The representative. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1893-1901, 1899-12-14
CHECKED BRET HARTE.S Walk
Sleepy Passenger in n stage Coach
.. Discovers His Mistake.

>1v liz n StHAS NOdcN
-. .- Discovers His Mistake.
My determination to make myself COM
Portable under all circumstances has been a
matter of regret oftener than I can tell you,'
Is the way in which an easy going South
erner began. in a Chicago club, what turned
into an interesting story. Il have always,
or nearly always, insisted on having my
sleep when l felt SO inclined. A good many
years ago l was in the far West, where
stage coaches were considered a luxury. l
took my place in one from the door of a
miners tavern in a mountain town, the
name of which 1 long ago forgot. 1t was
dark when the driver started the horses. |
was the sole occupant of the old rattletrap,
and drawing my buffalo robe about me, I
turned in for sleep. Somewhere, I never
knew where, / awoke to find the stage at a
were engaged in conversation. l could
hear only the sound of the voice of the man
in the road, but l distinctly heard the
driver say that 1t was darned strange-per-
haps the language 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 thar, and don't git gay
with the other passenger. If 1 hear anything
out of you I'll put you down in a coyote
camp and you won't know you was ever
Twin
"The stranger got in and was my VISA
We l COACluucu " IctuTu u my Slccp. ms
stranger concluded he would like to be
companionable. He began by saying he
didn't blame the driver. Picking UP a
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
a country full of adventures, and that he
had witnessed q lot of them. I made no
reply, but he proceeded. The last 1 heard
him say at that time was something about
a mountain storm In which he had an ex-
perience he would never forget. I deter
mined not to hear it, and / didn't. l went
to sleep. don't know how long I slept.
When l awoke the driver was at one of the
doors of the coach. What the conversation
was about or why the driver concluded to
get of his box and look in 1 never knew. 1
heard him growl at the stranger.
You shut up and keep quiet, or you get
out. You, was the last in. and t'other pas
senger was fust in. and eff he don't want
to CAB, you shut up
From the strangers reply I at once
concluded that he was a gentleman, and
that he had done nothing to excite the
driver. However, l had not finished my
sleep and rolled over to begin again. The
stranger laughed good naturally and began
another story. l was determined l would
not listen, and l didn't. I went to sleep.
Along about daylight the stage stopped be-
fore another mountain tavern. The snow
was blowing in every direction. 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
that driver would be more agreeable; at the
same time he said that drivers were 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 country.
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. l fear l may
have appeared gruff. l slept until l reached
my destination. Later in the day l unloaded
pocket and the card turned up. Then
knew l had, in my determination to be COM
fertable, lost the opportunity of hearing
good stories from a man who became |
one of the foremost writers of his time.
name on the card was Bret Harte."