The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1901-11-07
| HANK SIMMONS
By BENNETT F. HARRIS
Copyright, 1901, by Authors Syndicate.)

I1ANK SIMMONS was never reck-
| oned a particularly sociable in
diyidual, even when he was in Goods
Country" where sociability was pos
sible to some extent. The gro-
Gerry at "the Corners" which
was the intersection of the Vim
ton, Crosbytown and Blockley roads,
IN Saline county, Mo-, Gods country"
aforesaid, never had any great attrac-
ton for Hank, and the habitues of
that popular resort generally lowed
that Hank was right smart of good
company-fer hisself. He certainly
seemed to prefer spending his even
ings on the paternal eighty, mending
harness, reading the weekly paper, or
even "jess a-settin'" gazing blankly
into the fire of hickory logs, to the
charms of converse with the sages Of
the soap box. Equally he stunned
"singin' school," and the strawberry
and ice cream festivals allured him not.
Not he said, "by derned sight"
Therefore, he might have been con-
sidered eminently fitted for the soli-
tary life of sheep herder in the slopes
Of the Jarillas, whittier he had drifted
tn course of time, but he had to con-
fess at last that he found it "sort o
lonesome" and that meant great deal
Tor him. An ordinarily gregarious
man would probably have gone stark
staring mad in from six months to q
year, but Hank had now followed the
hooks for three years, far from human
habitation and the sound of human
voices, and he was still reasonably
sane.
Once in two or three months the sup
ply wagon came around, and then the
driver. Bill Williams, usually stayed
With him a day or two and helped him
70 move camp to pastures new. Occa-
0onally Mexican prospector or a
party OF Indians on hunt came into
MS range, but the rest of the time
tnere was no sound but the ceaseless
Oieatlng OF his sheep and the quick
crunch OF their teeth on the grass; no
sight but the same old everlasting hills,
WIN their scanty clothing of grease
wood and cactus and stunted pine; no
oecupatlon but to slouch along after
nus lmbecile charges, or lounge in the
Aaade OF rock and tree, no companion
snip. but that of the misnamed Dial
me half-bred sheep dog. It was no
wonder that he felt it "sort of lone
some"
u was not so much the solitude, he
SAD afterwards, as the eternal bleat-
aug oleating, bleating. Or, at least,
suas IN some way acted upon his nerves
sno intensified the feeling of loneli.
asss' 1t sometimes happens that a
aefaer who is not Mexican suddenly
saaps the cord of his endurance and
.uns amuck through the flock, with
s"iui slaughter. After this happens
4 le usually kills himself, for the sur.
asors continue to bleat. This is just
= Wen, for he would be an awkward
lum. w = ~ ~'S "s'
but this is beside the story, except
~expiain that Hank was so anxious
!" nave Bill Williams stay with him for
,"nlle longer on the occasion of his
,ss' visit, and why Bill was so genuine.
sorry that he could not.
- nke to the best kind, Hank" said
ae uriVer. IF Long wasn't short OF
sauek an waitin' fer me on Madre Chi.
sue,a' we, I'd do it, but I've got to hit the
sa. Ian shore. It's a sinche that you've
ss; sss.ef come in, though, an I'll shore
nan s some hombre to spell you ther
- sA trip. Can you stick it out til,
snI, a' II You can't, get in the Wagon
n.na ausnow an let the sheep go to hell. 4
aan worth more'n a herd of snotty.
losed sheep"
81. IN, reckon 1 kin stand it till then, >
sos suea Hank; ''but it's shore lone.
ae saa And so the long whip cracked
s sua the brake ground on the wheels
~, ~ 'ne wagon slid after the trottipo
naies down the trail.
"A two days Hank was sorry tbat,e
.a0 not climbed into the wagon ani
s01sldesed whether he would not d. d.