The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1901-08-14

the community IL WAS WlluOuJ ue-
nomination, but it served on Sunday as
a change from the awful dullness of
the six working days of the week, and
as the preacher was more than ordi-
narily pugnacious it was deemed wiser
to keep in his good favor than to pro-
woke a row. The people were so poor,
the land then so unfruitful, with money
almost unknown, that the spirit of the
settlers was broken. They became
as iron red and sun baked as the
buttes, and their weapons hung unused
in their shacks.
Every Sunday morning when they
met in the little church to confront
Parson Hempill they sang-sang an old
voice worn song:
Where, oh, where, is good old Moses2
Where, oh, where, is good old Moses2
Where, oh, where, is good old MosesP
Safe in the promised land.
Then a pause and then the answer,
meant to be triumphant, but quavering,
troubled
By and by we'll go and see him,
BY and by Wen go and see him,
By and by Wen go and see him,
Safe in the promised land
gentleman Ed," at that time repre-
senting the Mccormick Harvester COM
pany in the territory, rode down to
Shur one Sunday morning and caught
the droning wheezy tune on the suffc-
eating air. 1t irritated him and irritat-
ed the horse he rode. Gentleman Ed
at that time held himself to be the best
shot in the territory and the sole final
authority on every subject under the
sun. He brooked no questioning of his
opinion, and, while he was unknown
to Shur and its inhabitants he purpos-
ed at once to give it a modern hymn,
if any were to be sung, and to obliter-
ate forever the obnoxious one whose
grooming floated down even to the hot
river and it's almost stagnant waters.
Gentleman Ed" saw the church
door open, the people within, their
horses without. He gave his mare the
spur, and she nimbly cleared the en-
trance and cantered down the single
aisle. The song ended abruptly; the
pastor leaned far over his rude pulpit;
some men rose from their seats, but
sat down when they saw the shining
QUITS on which the riders hands rested.
I'm Gentleman Ed'" said he, land
I've just come down from Snake Creek
to see what you're doing here on the
sands. / don't like your tune. You're
grass singers, and you're afraid to hold
your heads up and snort. They've got
new tune up to Snake Creek, and it's
called Hold the Fort I'll give you
the steer on it, and when I'm in town
you sing it."
Not very badly, not wholly out of
tune, Gentleman Ed" sat his horse
there in the sanctuary and sang all he
knew of Hold the Fort" a flirt of
one Of his guns in the direction of the
pastor caused that worthy to try the
new song after him, and the congrega-
ton followed his example. They tried
it over and over again, much as it hurt
their Threats, for they were weapon
less. Then their instructor retired I'M
til the services were ended. Pastor
Hempill deemed it wise to close with
another trial of the Snake Creek song,
because he, too, was unarmed.
Any bad impression Gentleman Ed"
congregation in the morning was dis
PEELED In the afternoon when he freely
set up the drinks to the community and
announced that, while he did not ex-
pect to do any business in Shur, he
would rest himself and horse a few
days and deal faro for those who might
wish to pit themselves against his skill.
BY the following Sunday he owned all
there was to Shur, and it was a meek,
discouraged and Inundated gathering
that faced Parson Hempill when he
rose to open the regular religious serv-
ices.
AS before, Gentleman Ed" rode his
mare into the church and gave the sig
nal for trial of Hold the Fort" but
the song was never sung again in that
house of worship. The pastors pulpit
seemed suddenly to blaze with fire, and
an old time Winchester that he was
working literally blew the mare out of
existence. She fell in her tracks and
the invader with her. He came to his
feet unframed, but Parson Hempill
had him covered, and the congregation
by this time was back of the parson,
armed and waiting.
"We're not going to kill you" said
the parson rather gently, "but you'd
better start back for Snake Creek at
once-on foot. What you've cheated
this town out of during this unholy
week you'll leave here. Walk"
Three mild hammered men, armed, es-
corted Gentleman Ed" to Egg butte
and set him on the Snake Creek trail.
They waited while he strobe away,
wrath in his soul, but helpless. AS he
came to the last turn from which he
could see Shur the sound of voices sing
ing came across the waste land to him,
Bhrill voices shouting:
BY and by Wen go and see him,
Safe in the promised lands