Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1888-10-11
Dick JOhnson's Vengeance.

| Dick J0hDsOn's Vengeance.
They were the most contented family
in the world. The father was by turns
prospector, a trapper, or a rancher,
but he never succeeded in making a
good living in any way. He was a re-
markably handsome mOuntaineer, tall
and strong, and he looked on honest
labor as quite beneath him. His word
| was his bond; he contracted no debts
that he could not pay, yet he often cut
| up fat steer and divided the meat
| among his neighbors, who sent him
| vegetables and groceries in return,
and never asked where the fat steer
had come from. Perhaps they knew.
| When a herd passed along the dusty
high-road the women smiled at each
other and said: 81 guess Wen have
| some fresh meat tomorrow"
| Sometimes he would drive into town
| with a team of housekeeping, smooth
coated horses attached to his rusty old
blackboard. Then his friends crowded
about them, stroking the glossy Decks,
examining the white teeth, but no one
in this little Mormon settlement ever
thought of inquiring where he got
| them.
Dick johnson was the kindest of
men to his friends and family, yet he
| had his record. He would be lynched
promptly if he should ever return to
Montana; he had shot bridgekeeper
| who demanded toll of him, and, al
| together, the deaths of half-dozen
men were caused by the we'll known
| fact that "Ole Dick Wuz mighty lively
| with his pistols when he got huff whis-
| ky aboard"
His wife did not always have good
print dress to wear to town, the child
rem were seldom provided with shoes.
| but she always seemed contented and
lazily happy, and there was not a
merrier set of little ones. The mother
was a fair-haired, blue-eyed woman,
and the children all looked like her.
''The children mostly awl looks like
me- she would say, with an amiable
smile; ''awl of 'em 'cept Caddie. an !
| guess she looks more like her pa"
"You kin Jest bet | do, and I'm
| mighty glad l havn't no tow-head like
| these here young 'uns," Caddie would
| answer. She was a remarkably hand
some girl, and people who admired
her delicate, dark face, were always
| shocked when her coarse voice and
language were heard. Of course,
this energetic girl ruled the whole
family; the man, who, in spite of his
strength and ferocity, was as tender,
hearted and supplemented as child,
| the indolent amiable woman, and the
| swarm of tow-headed children.
| Caddie had dreams of something
| different from the vagrant life that
satisfied the rest of the family. Some
| times she saw herself busy wife and
| mother, moving about the two or three
| rooms of log farm house, with a few
| hardy flowers struggling for existence
in the small front garden, with currant
bushes, strawberry vines, and flourish
| ing vegetables surrounding the house,
and with waving fields of grain stretch
| ing away TO the dark mountains that
bound these Western valleys.
She confded these visions to her
mother once.
Il tell yer what, maw," she said,
"when I git married I hain't agoin' to
hev no sech ferlorn dolby shanty ez
this here. It'll hev to be a log house,
and derned well plastered an white
| washed inside an out. An there'll be
the purtiest rag-carpet on the front
room floor you ever see, an good
board floor in the kitchen, too. An
I'll hey likely colt to ride, an some
cows, SOS to hey lots of milk an but
ter, an yer bet yer life I'll be boss O
the hull golderned ranch"
"Yew've always he'd fine ideas in
yew're head, Caddie," drawled her
mother; IAN eff yew marries Bishop
Burns, like yew're pa wants yew tew,
maybe he'll Civ yew log house; but
yew knew well enuff that Dan Williams
CANT do no sech thing fer ye."
HUH observed Caddie; ''ef that
bull-headed ole Burns ever comes
a-shinnin' round me, hell get sech q
crack in is jaw IL make him see stars,
or else my name haint Caddie John
son.
"Wall, l guess he'd better not risk
it them" said the woman, with feeble
laugh; ''yew're pas a-hitchin' up the
bosses, Caddie, an I reckon yew'd
better pack tibet there bit o butter in a
box, an mebbe ole Burns ull give yew
some shoes fer it eff yew're real nice
tew him."
"An right" answered Caddie;
s'look-a-here, you Tom. I'll kick you
into the middle of next week if you
don't stop tryin' to lasso that there
pig. Come along here now, an git
yer face washed. We're goin' to the
+ Coop an mebbe you'll Git some
candy, eff you behave yourselves"
There was only one seat in the wagon,
and on it sat Dick johnson and his
wife, who held the baby in her arms
Caddie sat on the box in the back OF
the wagon, and the children rolled
around her in the hay that was always
taken along for the horses to eat while
the women were trading in the Co.
operative Store and the man was
drinking at the one saloon.
! The road ran along the bank Of a
river, whose cleaning breadths, seen
at intervals through the overhanging
willows, together with long sweep
of green and brown and gold bunch.
grass that bowed its tasseled heads as
the breeze passed over it, waving like
a many-colored sea away to the dark
mountains with their snowy tops,
formed q picture almost sublime in its
perfect loveliness.
i THAT there grass is cen Almost
ready to cut" remarked old Dick. 81
guess I'll borry the bishops hay-rick