The Arizona sentinel., 1888-04-07
A STRANGE VISITOR,
And What He Had to Say to the Funny
 Editor.

 and What He Had to Say to the Funny
 Editor.
 A humorous editor sat in his easy chair with a thoughtful expression ca his face, when the door of his sanctum opened, and accompanying the gust of wind that entered was peculiar specimen of humanity. On his feet were pair of felt boots. into which his pants were snugly tucked, his hands were encased in pair of thick wooden mittens. long, faded over coat covered his lank .bo ly. and brown plush cap was pulled down over his ears. while a nine-foot scarf was wound around his neck five or six times. the ends of which crossed his chest and were tied behind his back.
 That he was in the right pew was evident, for, without word, he un- wound the scarf, pulled. off his cap and mittens, and, unbuttoning his coat, began to gaze about. The first thing that caught his eye was the marble wash-basin. and crossing over 70 this he carefully examined it. Sev- eral times the editor was upon the point of speaking. but the callers ac- lions surprised him, and he thought it best to wait and see what the man would do. That party was not long in discovering what the basin was for. and af.er turning on the water and watching it run for few moments he exclaimed: Wall. Iswan, if thet ain handyr' The next moment he had his sleeves rolled up and with the words. zen store soap. too, be gosh?' he began washing his face and hands in manner that showed that he, was no Anarchist. For five minutes he snorted and blowed, and then feeling around till he found the towel. he wiped his hands and face, dug away at his eyes and ears, till finally, after making sure that he was thoroughly dry, he again began to cast his eyes about the room.
 'Ahl there tis. I thought ye wud have suthin' to comb har with" and with this he went over to the mirror, and began to jag away desperately at his matted locks with the comb, keep ing time the while on the other side with the brush. By this time, the editor had made up his mind that the party before him represented more gall to the square inch than any man he had ever seen before during his eventful career but he was too astonished to say any thing. Fin ally tie man got his hair pretty well smoothed out, and was beginning 10 brush the ruching of whiskers that ran around under his jaw, when the editor found his tongue and spake:
 My modest and retiring friend. " said he. ''did it never occur to you, that your nerve is something fright ful? What brand ofnerve food are you using now?"
 At this the visitor laid the comb and brush down. brushed the hair and dandruff from his shoulders, and after taking a big mouthf ul of smoking to. bacco out of yellow package, said:
 'I s'pose thet' whut you city fellers wud call gall, eh?''
 "Well," ," replied the surprised editor, 'rhere is a striking resemblance some where, and if it isn't gall, it belongs to the same family.''
 Hum! So I calkilated; but yo' have no idee how needed thet wash. Ye sec, I live out here in Dodge County, an its been so all-fred cold there this winter that it's as much as a mans life is worth to wash. Why, gol-blast it. man. 1 started to wash one day last month. an the water frozo right to my face Then we had a schoolmarm come to board with us last fall, and of course politeness demanded that Jane an me should insist on her takin' the har brush an comb right to her room an usin' it for her own. That prin- cipally whut come into the city for to-day. to git new har brush an comb The curry comb thet I've been usin' don't git down to bed rock, an pull the snarls out like the old fashion black rubber comb, but thct ain whut brought me up here. You're the feller whut writes the funny articles. ain ye?"
 The editor blushed at this, and in. formed his strange visitor that the public held him responsible for some of them.
 Wall. ane an me has taken youl paper ever since it started, an unless you an me kin come to ome sort O an understandin', you'll have tel scratch my name offe' n your list. Jan' an me talked it over the other night an came to the conclusion that tn humor of to-day ain't whut it ustel be. Why. gosh all hemloch, m an, ye haven't had muel story in your pa per fer nigh on ter six year, an Jant is j,s' pinin' away waitin' ful you to write one. The time the Jane almost cholled ter deatl by partly swallerin' her false teetl was laughin' at story in your pape thet tod erbout government mue kickin' lung outen a man tha twisted its tail. Yes. sir true humo is on the wane. My great holt is ol motherin-law jokes. an storles el bou goats eatin' tin cans. but you haven lad enny thing in your paper erbou them things fur years. Of course kin git erlong if necessary withou them. but do try and say somethin!