The Brandon news. (Brandon, Miss.) 1892-1961, 1905-09-28

you nave Ideals OF Blue Beard, c.
Robin Hood or the "Pied Pipe:
or some such mysterious PERSONA
each of which might bear some r.
semblance to that Equator. y To
say the least, he is quaint and
picturesque and wild-woodsy looking
enough to have scared-off even q
stauncher horseman than the "Arkan-
saw Traveller. y But there he sits,
rough and unshorn, with coon skin cap
on head and fiddle in hand, monarch
in truth of all he surveyed. In the
foreground are dogs and pots and pig
pens, all gathered together as boon
companions, while in the background
is the slough with it's ove1fows and
six-foot Of mud and it's constitutional
enmity to the would-be travellers of
that way. Then the hero-the Ar
kansaw Traveller himself, appears
upon the scene. Riding beautiful
white horse, handsome, manly,
broad shouldered, with q military
cloak gracefully thrown around him !;
face clear-cut, and an eye twinkling
with keen sense of humor and the
ridiculous-such is Col. Faulkner
the veritable f1esh-and- blood hero of
that far-famed fiddle tune. And there
follows the we'll known dialogue be-
tween the Traveller and the Squatter
with the old familiar air, only one
strain of which is known to the SQUAT
ter-interspersed without halt or
mercy, all the way through.
An Arkansaw traveller, who has be-
come lost, approaching the cabin of a
squatter, about seventy years ago, dis
covered the proprietor seated on an old
whisky barrel near the door, partly shelter
ed by the caves, playing fiddle, when
the following dialogue ensued, the squat
ter still continuing to play the same part
over and over:
Traveler-Helloo, stranger.
Squatter-Helloo, yourself.
Can get to stay all night with
you?
S.-You can git to go to hi.
I.-Have you any spirits here?
S.-Lots of 'em. Sail saw one last
night by that thar ole gum, and it nearly
skeered her to death.
I.-You mistake my meaning, have
you any liquor?
S.-Had some yesterday, but Old Bose
he got in and Tapped all NV it QUIT the pot
l.-4ou don't understand me, | don't
mean pot liquor. I'm wet and cold, and
want some whisky. Have you got any?
S.-Oh, yeS-I drank the last this
morning.
I'm hungry; haven't had thing
since morning; can't you give me some.
thing to eat?
S.-Hain't a id thing in the house.
Not mouthful of meat, or dust of meal
here.
We'll, can't you give my horse
something?
S.-Got nothin' to feed him on.
How far is it to the next house?
STRANGER, don't know. Pve never
been thar.
T-Well, do you know who lives here?
81 do.
T.-As I'm so bold, then, what might
your name be?
Sit might be Dick, and it might be
Tom, but it lacks id sight of it.
Sir, will you tell me where this road
goes tor
Sits never been any whar since I've
been here, it's always thar when git up
in the mornin'.
T.-Well, how far is it to where it
forks?
St don't fork at all, but it splits up
like the devil.
T.-As Pm not likely to get to any
other house tonight, can't you let me
sleep in yours, and I'll tie nv horse to a
tree, and do without anything to eat or
drink.
S.-My house leaks. Thar's only one
dry spot in it, and me and Sail sleeps on
it. And that thar tree is the old woman s
perslmmon; you can't tie to it, case she
make beer out'n UNI.
T.--Why don't you finish covering
your house, and stop the leaks?
SITS been raining all day.
T.-Well, why don't you do it in dry
weather?
Sit don't leak then.
T.-As there seem to be nothing alive
about your place but children, how do you
do here, anyhow?
S.--Putty well, thank you; how do
you do yourself?
Tt mean what do you do for a living
here?
S.-Keep tavern and sell whisky.
T.-Well. | told you | wanted some
whisky.
S.-Stranger! bought bar'I MORN a
week ago. You see, ME and Sail went