The Ketchum keystone. [volume] (Ketchum, Idaho) 1885-1899, 1893-10-07
sToaY Of COLONEL ylsscnEa.
The Tacoma Poet Played . sharp
Game for the Drink.

ticisn. depicts IN incident In the jolly
eeptlemanS life before he availed himself
of the liquor cure
Capt. Jack Crawford, the poet scout;
Col. Will visscher, . poet without being
. scout and Wild Bill, scout without
being poet, were playing cards in .
Black Hills saloon when swashbucking
bully from the plains entered the place.
He had just broke faro bank and va
therefore wealthy, writes Opie Read in
Fetter's Southern Magazine. He had just
shot out mans eye, and was therefore
gleeful. When he entered the place be
struck the bar with his hat and swore
that every man must take drink. Wild
Bill said that he did not mind taking
something, and Visscher made no objec-
ton whatever, but Crawford remarked
thst he did not drink. "But," said he,
"to be sociable, will take cigar with
you"
The swashbuckler looked at him scorn.
fully and said: mo, you'll not take
cigar"
well, then, III take lemonade"
"Youll not do that; you'll take whis-
Ky"
But" Crawford protested, II never
took drink of whisky in my life"
swell, then, it's time to take one. Come
on here" and he laid rude hands on Jacks
garments. Then Wild Bill mildly pro-
tested. At this the terror of the plains
few into a fit of fury. "Do you want
TO take it up1" he howled. 1t was evident
that he was not personally acquainted
with Bill.
"Well, yes, as l haven't anything else
on hand at present, believe feel lit
tie like taking it up" and with that he
Knocked the fellow down. And now the
swashbuckler, though on tho floor, was
in his glory-he had an excuse to In
dulge his sentimental yearning for slaugh-
ter and be reached for his pistol. But
with q movement lash-like in its quick
ness Bill had him covered with an iron
that had killed twenty men. At this mo-
meut man who had just entered the "a.
loon quietly remarked:
"Hello! Wild Bills got another
sucker"
Hold ont" the terror howled, "Are
you Wild Bill2"
"That's what they call me-"
"Well, now, I want to say that your
friend may take wa-what he plesses.
And to show you that I'm sorter socially
inclined, I'll take lemonade myself"
This incident appealed to the quick in
stincts of Visschsr. He was tenderfoot,
and was therefore impressionable. A few
days later he was in mining camp
broke. He had nothing save honor and
appetite. Honor could take care Of itself
but appetite must be humored. The truth
is, he wanted great deal of "liker," and
wanted it at once. He went to several
saloons but no one asked him to drink,
and he was too proud to hint that be
ought to be invited. That was where
honor was the enemy of appetite.
A thought struck him; an idea nimbly
tripped across his poetic fancy. He re
called the Wild Bill incident and he
would turn it to account. He went into
q saloon and sat down near table; he
threw himself back and began to talk
''Fine lot Of people out here" he de-
clarcd.
"Gallant and determined lot of men. I
saw rough just now force poor fellow
to take drink Of whisky. I'd like to
see man try that game on me; catch
me pouring whisky down my throat just
to satisfy the within of q fool. There's
nobody in this town that can make me
take drink. I've come here to foster
the Murphy movement"
A lank cowboy turned from the bar
and gave Visscher searching look. MY
friend,' said be, faint you putty bolda"
"You bet I'm bold2"
'And you won't take drink"
mo, won't"
"Do you want to know what you'll do2
You'll just take six right now" He drew
his revolver. Visscher began to stammer.
MY friend" he said, in the hope that
the fellow would make it ~, ~ never
took drink in my life."
"1hat so2 Well, you'll take six right
now. Barkeeper, put six drinks on the
bar, just = foot apart" And when the
barkeeper had done this, the cowboy
added: ''Now, Mr.. Pinkfoot, you begin
at that end and drink your way down
here"
Visscher mumbled that he had left bis
pistol ut the hotel.
II don't care anything for your pistol {;
drink your way down here"
Visscher made the journey, with but a
breath between each glass, and the cow
boys roared with laughter; but chill
fell upon their mirth when Visscher re-
marked:
''Gentlenen, if you'll have these glasses
filled sgain, I'll drink my way back"
Made Of Human Hair.