The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1890-05-12
He SHARES TENDERFEET
An Old Timer In Butte Who Works Suck
ers, But Docs No Other Work.
A Rounder Whose Stories OF
Olden Times and Crumblings
Against the Present Keep
Him In Whiskey.

BUTTE, May ll.-Notwithstandin the
snow that fell In large sticky flakes and
forced its way down the back OF his coat,
he stood, or rather leaned, silently and
sadly against the corner of the Union Pa
cific building. A PARKWAY look was in
his eyes and something like n sigh occa-
sionally escaped him. He appeared TO
notice nobody and nobody noticed him.
The lark hair. generously besprinkled
with gray. his furrowed and bronzed fea-
lures and STOPPING form denoted years of
generous contact with the rough sides Of
life. His garb portrayed the prospcctor
and mountaineer.
How long he would have thus remained
motionless and silent no one a tell, had
he not been awakened from his r~everies
by u STANDARD reporter, who thought
an item, or at least a story.
Gently tapping him on the shoulder the
reporter ~intcrrogatively said: "A rather
stormy day for this time of year,
With "a start the old man looked up and
replied, "Yes, pard, tits kind o. winterish
like" and then resumed his meditations,
hut for n moment only. Shaking himself,
the silent man looked about him as
though trying to recognize some familiar
object, and then querulously remarked:
$50 this is Butte. is il? Well, declare.
how things 10 change in a few years. i
WIS JUST ~ ttllkiH Vi tut llst tiI1s Il WtS
yere and il don't seem 81 long ago luther.
But say, young Teller, let's get under some
kiver, somewhat, so'es we kin talk" The
reporter was willing, and leading
the way the two were soon seated
at a small table In a saloon near by, with
n couple of glasses containing a little in-
vigorant standing between them.
After emptying his glass the old man
resumed. "As ! said afore, ! was yer
when there was no Butte, at least no town
by that ERE name, only the big butte over
yonder; that was all. Quite a while ago,
lers with yer bold-faced shirts thought o.
comm yere. There was only a few Of us
yere then an we didn't stay very long.
eau why? Well il wasn't n likely place
to stay by. The Injuns wern't any too
friendly, besides, thar warn't any
thing ter keep us yere. We wus
the country to sec what was goin' on.
But say, pard. how things do change an
what queer notions people have got now
adays! When you broke in on me was
just a wonderin' at them yere cable cars;
l believe that's what yer call 'em. When
/ left ther states-I came from Missouri.
ther were no SIGH things. People jest
naturally hoofed whar ever thay wanted
ter go or else rid a horseback. Then,
too, ther war no lectricik lights, no fancy
fixin's of any kind, but things jest
as God left 'em. arruv i'm
town last night after knocking about the
mountains for years, and l was fairly
killed when | see all ther changes that
had TUX place. l kim by the kars, got on
at Garrison, the first kars, too, that l had
seen for years. When We got TO the depot
l got onto some smaller kars and rid up
town an put up at n hotel-one o. them
high toned places-an'I didn't know what
to do with myself. High toned cullered
fellers waited OH me, and one o. them
handed me n piece n paper and
asked me what l wanted ter eat.
threw the thing down an told
him to GIN me some ranch aiggs an ba-
con, and yer ought TO have seen that fel.
Ter look! He brought me n little fowl an
a lot % other fixins that might do for you
high-falutin' ducks, but / didn't want any
i'm mine. / ate tn bacon an aiggs, bu,
passed on the other things.
This mornin,i u was the same thing
over, an l got sick OF II an paid my bill
IN just naturally quit tn house. ]
couldn't stand the style, an I'm goin' tel
quit tn town, too, and go back to tn
mountains. TIL idea o. gettin' fowl.
when wi,s o eat drinking T n;is,
shirts an all that, is too much fer me
I'm gettin' too old for such f~oolishness
an besides | ont like yere. Thar's too
much noise and racket ter suit me. Tn
goin' away tonight. but gosh, IL anybod,
nau tOlu Inc mat buttc wer tncr pace !
is, I'd called him n liar. sure.
"This country amt what il used ter be
Thar's too many tenderfeet i'm il now +,
ever make il to much. Why
say, j hain' seen "A Teller will
a gun on since I've been yere
People is gettin' too man,
queer idees to suit me an I'm goin' bacl
whar ] kin ackt natural like and Joy my
self"
With this the old man sadly arose an,
walked away. just as he was passing on
of the door some one i'm the room aske,
the reporter IL he knew the man witt
whom he had been talking. The reporte
answered that he did not, but that he wa
an old mountaineer who had Just come I.
town. "Mountaineer h-lL,'' was tn
rather irreverent response. That's al
old bum who has been hanging aroun,
here for years. He came here from Chi
cago and does nothing but work sucker
for drinks. How many did he get out q
you?" More firmly convinced han eye
that IL is foolish TO judge a horses spte'
by the color of the sulky, the reporter ais
walked forth into the snow-laden atmos