The Anderson intelligencer. [volume] (Anderson Court House, S.C.) 1860-1914, 1894-10-24
AN AMERICAN IN LONDON.
He Is Like a Bit Of Sunshine
Through the Fog and Rain.
A London "scrIbbler" Writes of Visit
from Capt. Jack Crawford, the Well
Known Western Poet and Scout
"A RemInisccnce.

We are all in the nethermost hell
Of despair over our awful weather,
and we are longing for the sunshine,
writes George R. Sims in the Lon
don Referee. But there are people
who in some parts OF the world
grumble at Sunshine above" and
long for the fog and the rain OF Old
England. AS I was thinking OF
these things there strodc into my
room, out of the mist and the rain
of the park. Capt. Jack Crawford,
the famous Poet Scout OF America,
the ideal frontiersman, with long
hair hanging over his shoulders
tall, 1.-the and sunburnt, with eagle
eyes and shading brows; and he sat
himself down in my study, and,
shaking the rain from his leonine
locks, exclaimed: II like this-it
does me good" ''Like what2" I
asked. "The weather." he replied;
and then he told me how for five
long years in New Mexico they had
not o drop OF rain, only the eternal
scorching, binding sunshine, and
how seventy-fve per cent. OF the
cattle died, and the fish lay in the
dry bed OF the river and famed
themselves with their tails. and the
snakes era wled about with their
skins blistered and cracking; and
he called the ceaseless downpour OF
Thursday ''just Dream" and
wished he could take q stock of our
special summer weather back to
New Mexico with him.
1 told the genial frontierman that
Iwould pay him visit in his land
of sunshine as soon as I could settle
nv affairs in this sun-forsaken land
of mud and mildew, and asked him
i'll should have to go about with six
shooters all over me. Then be
laughed.
.'There aren't any six-shooters
now except in the boys tales, ne
said: s'The real men Of the west are
quiet, peaceable, good fellows.
But in the old days of the SIX
shooter the Poet Scout often had q
rough time. One night in o lawless
town he had to meet Wild Will
James B.. Hiscock-one OF the
greatest scouts America ever knew,
q man who once killed seven men IN
five minutes. They were guerrillas
during the war, and belonged to
John McC Candlas' gang, and they got
round Wild Will to murder him, and
1t was their lives or his life, and be
accounted for seven on his own. On
THE occasion when Capt. Jack and
Wild Will were in the bar, q frontier
rough came in all over six-shooters,
and yelled: "I'm q wolf, you thar,
and I'm on the howl tonight. Or
to the bar with you, and red liquor
for the lotl''
The company obliged, and the red
LIQUOR = otherwise {" taranteller
pizen," otherwise whisky : was
served. But Wild Will and Capt.
Jack sat still. ''Here," said the
stranger, 'saren't you goin' tc
drink?" NO." replied Capt. Jack,
sT've never had q drink in my life.
'Then, by thunder, you'll begin
now" VERY well, then; I'll take 9
lemonade" lemonade be hanged
. Red liquor, and down with it, or
And he drew his revolver. And then
WILD VIII rose. and with one blow o.
his huge. fist stretched the frontier
rough on the floor. And as he rose
and put his hand to his six-shooter
q man came and exclaimed "Wilt
Will, by heavensl" And the hant
dropped, and the Wolf exclaimed
my Godl I thought there was only
one man with q fist like that" AND
when Capt. Jack lifted his glass o
lemonade the Wolf gave him sicklJ
smile, and when the captain said
tYou've not ordered your own drinl
yet," he answered, hesitatingly
'sNo-I-I think I'll take lemon
ade, too"
It was five o'clock in the Afternoon
when be came into my study just t.
bring me a message from my friend
Robert p. Porter, OF census fame
and I shouldn't like to tell you wha
time it was when l let him out OF m,
front door into the night, with hi
long hair waving in the breeze, ant
then went up to bed reviling the fat
which had made me melanchol.
London scribbler instead OF q poe
scout, with ranch in New Mexico
"a /. ,to,,;o,,e rooord IF oo11a nt 6and