Daily inter mountain. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1881-1901, 1899-12-04
WANTED TO SLEEP

MY determination to max myself
comfortable under all circumstances has
been Il matter of regret oftener than l
| can tell you." is the way to which an
easy-going southerner began, in an up
town club, What turned into an interest
ing story. says the New York Sun. Il
have always. or nearly always, insisted
on having my sleep when / felt so in
clined. A good many years ago l was
in the far west. where stage coaches
| We're considered a luxury. / took my
place in one from the door of a miners
, tavern in a mountain town, the name OF
which ! long ago forgot. 1t was dark
when the driver started the horses. l
was the sole occupant of the old rattle
trap, and drawing my buffalo robe about
me l turned in for sleep. Somewhere.
never knew where, l awoke to find the
stage at a standstill. The driver and
some one afoot were engaged in con-
versation. l could hear only the sound
of the voice OF the man in the road, but
/ distinctly heard the driver say that 1t
was darned strange-perhaps the Ian
guage was stronger-that a man should
want to get into a stage at such a place.
Then he said to the applicant:
"'Well, crawl in Their and don't git gay
with that other passenger. If l hear any
aii'AS ~ VI Nou 1 u ~ SOo ooNh ~ ~
coyote camp and you won't know you
was ever living
The stranger got in and was my VISA
Wis. l concluded to return to my sleep.
The stranger concluded he would like to
be companionable. He began by saying
he didn't blame the driver. Picking up Il
passenger in the dead OF night in such a
bowling wilderness was not safe. l said
no. and shut up. The stranger said it
was n Mrnnnirv full Of adventures and
that he had witnessed a lot of them. I
made no reply. but he proceeded. The
last I heard him say at that time was
something about a mountain storm in
which he had an experience he would
never forget. | determined not to hear
ii and l didn't. When / awoke the driver
was at one of the doors of the coach.
What the conversation was about, Or Why
the driver concluded to get off his box
ard look in ! never knew. ! heard him
growl at the stranger:
You shut up and keep quiet. or you
get out. You was the last in, and t'Other
passenger was fust in, and eff he don't
want to CAB, you hush up \.
Prom the strangers reply / at once
concluded that he was a gentleman, and
that he had done nothing to excite the
driver. However. ! had not finished my
sleep, and rolled over to begin again. The
stranger laughed good-naturedly and be-
gan another story. ! was determined l
would not listen. and | didn't. went to
sleep. Along about daylight the stage
stopped before another mountain tavern.
The snow was blowing in every direc-
ton. A blizzard was on. The stranger
left me at that place. He wished me a
very pleasant journey and said in a sort
OF CHEEKY way that he hoped the driver
would be more agreeable: at the same
time he said that drivers We're not to be
feared, that as a class they were the soul
of honor. Then he handed me his card.
1t seemed odd in that godforsaken coun-
try, in a stage coach. too, for a stranger
to be so courteous. People seldom do that
in a railroad train. l showed the card in
my pocket. l was still drowsy. | fear
l may have appeared gruff. | slept until
] reached my destination. Later in the
day | unloaded my pocket and the card
turned up. Then l knew | had, in my
determination to he comfortable, lost the
opportunity of hearing some good stories
from a man who became one of the fore
most writer's of his time. Tho name on
the card was Bret Harte."