The age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1897-1902, 1897-08-29

Ing temperance"
fright you be. This yere whisky drin-
kim" continued the old gentleman, as he
topped with his empty glass, " is mighty
curious play. I knows gents as can tam
per with their little old forty drops fire.
quent an regular. As far as hurtin' of
'en is concerned. it don't come to throw
in' wal er on drowned rat. Then, agin,
I've cut gents trails as drinkin' whisky
Is like playin' harp with hammer.
Which we-alls amt all upholstered alike;
chats whatever. We don't all show the
same brands and y'earmar1s nohow.
What's medicine for one is p'fsen for
s'other; an thar you be.
''Bein' reg lar, reliable drunkard that
away comes mighty near bein' disease.
1t amt no question of nerve, neither.
Some dead-game gents I knows-and
who's that obstinate they wouldn't move
camp for a prairie fire-couldn't poster
little bit with whisky.
"Thar's my friend, Mace Bowman.
Mace is clean strain clar through, an
yet l don't reckon he ever gets to a
showdown with whisky once which he
amt outheld. But for grim nerve ASH
never shiver, this yere Bowman is at par
every time.
Bowman dies prey to his ambition.
He stap.s in once to drink all the whisky
in Wofville. By his particlar request
most of the white male people of the
county stands in on the deal, a-baclSin'
his play for to make Wolfvlle a dry
camp. At the close of them two lurid
weeks Mace lasts, good jedges, like En-
right an Doc Poets, allows he's shorely
made it scarce some.
But Wolfville's too big for him. Any
other gent but Mace would have .roped
at a smaller outfit But that wouldn't be
Mace nohow. If thar's a bigger camp
than Wolfville anywhere about that's
where he'd been. He's mighty high
searted an ambitious that away, an it's
kill a bull or nuthin' when he lines out
for buffalo.
But the thirteenth day he strikes in
on the big trail, where you never meet
no outfits comm back, an that settles it.
The boys, not havin' no leader, with
Mace petered, gives up the game, an the
big raid on nose paint in Wolfville is only
hist'ry now.
when knows Bowman first he's sher-
iff over in northeast New Mexico. A
good sheriff Mace is too. Thar amt
mothin' gets run off while he's sheriff,
you bet. When he allows anythin's his
diooty, he lays fer 1t permiscus He's a
plumb sincere offishul that away"
Zone time I recalls as how wagon
train with households of folks into 1t
camps two three days where Mace is
sheriff. These yere peoples headin' for
some'ers down on the Rio Grande amin
n 10 ,bAI1 IxNt
mornin' along of sun-up when they
strings out on the trail, an we-alls don't
think no more OF em. It's gettin' about
third drink time, when back rides gent,
sort o. fretful like, an allows he's done
shy a boy.
when do you-all see this yere infant
nast?' says Mace.
Why, says the gent, shorely has
him yesterday, 'cause my old woman
done rounds 'em up an counts
What time is that yesterday
Bout first drink time says the be-
reavSd party.
"'How many of these yere offsprings,
corral count, do yov-all lay claim to any
way?' asks Mace
Which I've got my brand onto 'even
of EN- says the pore parent, beginnin' to
young-one gettin' strayed this away
leaves me short one. 1t makes it a
mighty rough crossin', stranger, after
bringin' that boy so far The old woman,
she boys right down when she knows, an
I don't reckon she'll be the same hep
meet to me unless finds him ag'in.'
oh, WE'LL says Mace, trying to cheer
this bereft person up, we lose kyards in
the shuttle which the same turns up all
right in the deal; an I reckon we-alls
walks down this yearfin' of yours agin,
too. What for brands or y'earmarks does
he show. so I'll know him?'
LAS to brands an y'earmarks.' says
the party, a-wipin' of bis eye, he's shy a
couple Of teeth, befn milk teeth as he's
shed, an there's mark on his for'ard
where his mother swipes him with Dip
per, that away, bringin' him up proper.
That's all remember quick
Mace tells the party to take cinch on
his feeln's an stampedes over to the
Mexican pant of camp. which is called
Ch&EH. on o scout for the boy. What
ever do you-all reckon's become of him,
son? I'm wolf if Mexican amt some
how cut him ou- of tine herd an stole
him. Takes him in, same as you MAYER
icks a calf. Why in the name of boss
stealth ne ever yearns for that young
one is alters too many for me.
''Nhen the abdurd.or hears how Mace is
on his trail, which he does from other
Mexfcans. he swings on no his broncbo an
begins p'ihtin' out, takin' boy an all.
But Mace has got too far up on him, an
stops him mighty handy with rifle.
Mace could work Winchester like you'd
whiri a rope, an the way he gets a bull
1et under that blanket an-tan's left wing
don't worry him little bit. The bullet
tears a hole through his lungs an The
same bein' TO further use for him to
breathe with. he comes tumblin' like a
shot pigeon, bringin' the party's offspring
with him.
(which this yere is almighty flatterin
to Mace as a shot, am it plumb tlcll1es
the boys Sire Tile allows he's lived in