Shepherdstown register. [volume] (Shepherdstown, Va. [W. Va.]) 1849-1955, 1891-08-28
THE SlEEPLESS KID.


If thar is one thing said the old
cattleman with a strain Of affection
and respect in his tone, (which en-
dears this yere Jack Booth to me
speshul, it is the cain, uncompromisin'
way he lines up on what he deems is
his dooty.
But where Jack shines exceedin' is
when you opens new game onto him
1t is just beautiful, as mere example
to men, to see the confidence with
which that Jack gets a stack Of chips
an sets in agin it, One hot afternoon
Enright an Doc Peets is away about
some cattle or something, but the rest
Of US is holdin' down the camp-we're
sorter hangin' an revolvin' round tn,
postoflics, a-waitin' for Old Monte an
the stage. Here she comes, final
a-rattlin' an a-crackin', that old
drunkard Monte a-creakin' of his
whip, the six hosses on the canter, an
the whole business putin on more
dog than Mexican:officer of revenoo.
When the stage drors up, Old Monte
throws off the mail bags, gets down
an opens the door, but nobody gets
out
We'll, I'm coyote : says Monte,
heap disgusted, 'wharever is the fe
male?
Then we all peers into the stage
an thar's jest a baby, with maybe a
ten-months' start down this vale Of
tears inside, an no mother nor nuth-
in along. Jack Booth, jest as | says
when | begins, reaches in an gets him.
The baby amt sayin' nuthin' an sort
er takes it out in smilin' on Jack.
"'He knows me, for hundred dol
lars, says Jack, mighty ecstatic. I'm
an Apache, if he amt allowin' he
knows me. Wharever did you get
him, Monte'
Give me drink, says Monte,
trackin along into the Early Bird;
this ysre makes me sick After he
gets about four fingers of carnation
under his belt he turns in an explains
as how the mother starts along in the
stage all right enuff from Tucson.
The last time he sees her, he says, is
at the last station back some twenty
miles in the hills, at dinner, an he
s'poses all the time she's inside along
OF her progeny until jest now.
L don't reckon says Old Monte,
lookin' gloomy like, as how that wo-
mern is aimin' to saw this yere infant
onto the stage company noneT
Don't addle your whiskey frettin'
about the company, said Booth, a-set-
tin Of the kid on the bar while we all
crowds in for a look at him; the
camp'll play this hand for the infant
an the company amt goin' to be in it
little bit
Il wish Enright and Peets was
yere, says Cherokee Hall, to be heard
hereon, cause | shore deems this
grave occasion. Yere we finds our
selves possessed OF an unexpected in
FAINT Of tender years, an the ques ton
nacheral enuff now is, whatever'll II we
do with it?'
Lets maverick it, says Dan
Boggs, who is a mighty good sort Of
a man, but onthinkful.
No, says Cherokee, its mother'll
come hoppin' along to-morry a-yellin',
you see! This yere is sabed all easy
enuff. This old sot Monte has jest
done drove off an left her planted
some'rs up the trail an she'll come
along shore in time.
Meantime says Booth, the in
fant's got 10 be took care Of, TO which
dooty | volunteers Thar's a tender
foot a-sleepin' in the room back Of the
Red Light, an he's that Terminate an
effete he's got a sure-nuf bed an
some goose-ha'r pliers; which the
same l do yereby cOnfscate to public
use to take care Of this yearlin'. Is
the sentiment pleasin'?'
Jacks scheme is right, says
Boggs, an for that matter he's alters
right. Let the shorthorn go sleep un-
der a mesquite bush; it'll do him good
a whole lot; for sech is life in the far
West
I'm some dobersome OF this play,
says Cherokee. Small infants is very
mysterious people, an thar amt no
livin' man was ever onto their game
an able to foresee their needs yet. Do
you allow you can take care OF this
young one, Jackt Be you equal toitr
Take care OF a small baby like
this, says Jack, plenty scornful, as
amt weighin twenty pounds averdu-
poiss Well, it'll be some fun now if l
can't, | could take care Of him If he's