Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-03-08

| Delaney found himself the owner of a
trifing matter of 80, 900 acres of rich grazing
lands, over which roamed the finest and
largest herd of shorthorns in Wyoming Ter
ritory. Above and beyond all this, Jack
Delaney was the most popular young man
in the eastern part of the Territory, both
among his neighbors-who were not very
numerous-and with his cowboys who
were decidedly numerous. To them all,
after the Western style, he was Jack De-
lancey-no more and no less. But although
this energetic scion of the House of
st. Marylebone had discarded the Hon.
orable' and the Wentworth and the
'Richelieu,' and had transformed John
into Jack he was still Delaney. He
might have called himself Moses Smith-he
might have even adopted Yankee drawl
and seasoned the same with powerful
Western slang, but he would still have re-
mained Delaney.
For, notwithstanding that the young man
affected big untanned boots, buckskin
breeches, a red shirt, and sombrero hat;
though he dined at II o'clock with the
bows and excused without murmur such
luxuries as table linen, cut glass, and silver
ware; though he slept in hammock,
rolled up in rather coarse blankets, and
took his morning plunge in the little creek
which furnished bathing facilities for all
his men-he was still Jack Delaney, and
it needed not the courtesy title accorded
him in Burke's 'Peerage' to proclaim this
fine specimen of sturdy Briton as the
Honorable Jack Delaney. So, although
all the stockmen and farmers and cowboys
within 80 miles of the Delaney ranch
freely addressed the wealthy, young Eng,
lishman as Jack they cheeriully yielded
him such marked Difference as was never
paid to any other man in the Territory, and
such as Jack Delaney himself had never
dreamed Of demanding.
1t was at the first big roundup after
Jacks arrival in the West, and the boys
were dining after hard mornings work
branding the Young cattle.
That thar Delaney o. yourn is bloodedl'
said a gaunt Kentuckian from a neighbor-
ing ranch. He's got the generwine liquid
in his veins, you kin bet! He's squar',
boys, an he's fair, so he is
BE me faith, he is that samep responded
a son of Erin. He's lad after st. Patrick's
own heart. Shure he's aiqual to none-ar-
rah, thin, be jabers, name he's second to
noneP
1T wur told up to the station, when wur
over last month, as he wur dook or Lord
Mayor or sumthin' when he wur on the old
L III
palmin' off incogniter. Looks kinder slip
perry, as if feller wur 'shamed of his own
name an previous record
This last speaker was Calvin Larned, a
ranchman of small means and smaller en-
deavor, who made practice of throwing
mud at his neighbors, and who was really
only tolerated for the sake of his daughter
Meta.
That's right, Call Wouldn't be you if
you didn't shoot your dirty mud, retorted
one of the men. Jack Delancey's got grit
and sand, anyhow, which is more than can
be said of you
And tell you one thing, boys said
strapping young fellow, as the men mounted
their ponies to resume their work; Jack
Delaney has got something beside pluck
he's got a great kind heart and clean hands.
1t doesn't make any difference whether he
was Lord Mayor or Lord Chancellor
over yonder-he was gentleman, and he's
that yet. Now, boys, whoop 'em upl Stir
up those critters livelyp
This last champion of the individual un-
der discussion was Jack Delancey's fore