The Arkansaw traveler., 1889-09-21

Commercial travellers are ever fond of telling about odd characters with which they meet on their various routes of travel while drumming u D trade. Often times the most skeptical listener to their highly -coored tales Is obliged to relax the rigidity of his incredulous expression and join heartily in the each nnAtions that echo and re-echo throughout the waiting room of some hotel where
 jobber's representative has been entertaining his brethern by drawing the long bow In the descrip- ton of some peculiar character and his eccentrici- ties.
 Not long ago, a large theatrical troupe filled the Franklin house, at Patterson, and crowded out commercial men, who were accustomed to enjoy the hospitality of that caravansary, aud also some Of the members of the company, including their manager. The Erie hotel was sought by the trav- elcrs and midnight found a jolly group of boys around the capacious dining table, the table being laden with drinking utensils, labelled "P. P. P.,s meaning pint-pot punch. Two gentlemen, who looked as though they could brew . punch like college dons and drink 1t like undergraduates sat by open grAte fire alternately pouring the con- tents of two two-galon jugs from one jug to the other The rest of the company sat around the board telling stories under penalty of being obliged to drink an entire pint of punch ct drAught should the narrator tell chestnut The varied style of tales told on that rainy night would make very enter taining book, many of the relators preferriug to tell moldy tale rather than be deprived of the privilege of imbibiDg the potent draught. At five o'clock in the morning the end man of the min strel troupe and the travelling correspondent Of newspaper alone remained, the rest of the company having retired succumbed to the influence of repeated penalties.
 After several stories had passed between them, told in very desultory sort of way, the minstrel asked of his ris ris:
 Excuse me, sir, but may ask what your calling is?"
 Certainly" responded the newspaper scribe i; Il am reporter"
 And your name, please?"
 "Well, my name don't count for much, although don't mind telling you. Its-7," returned the pencil-p -pusher.
 What! You don't say sol Eve seen your stuff often. Shake! Let's drink our night cap and get little sleep. can't stand you out any more than that opens up here Monday, and I can tell lies from one years end to another. It's my business"
 "I1l cry quits if you will tell me lie that is true. You are the best entertainer I've met in an age"
 It was no fiattery to the burnt-cork artist the words spoken by his brother story weaver, as the following sketch will show.
 Well, will tell you one more-one I wanted to tell earlier in the evening when the vein of our stories was largely upon eccentric characters Eve been twenty years in the show business and Eve met with many odd people, don't mean freaks l mean people in every-day life-but among the oddest was . man who employed me ss treasurer and manager for a snap- show. I was with him for whole sessoE-the first and last season he ever went barn. storming. His name was Luke Babson and he knew nothing whatever about the show biz He'd married . souDrette that he fell in love with while she was playing In the lumber districts of the northwest, and she had inveigled him into buying her piece to star in--got 1t of one of you newspaper chaps for the price of song. Twas too good piece to De attractive to the rough boys in the lumber circuit % got our property man, who was good play butcher,' to work in