Greene County herald. (Leakesville, Miss.) 1898-current, 1906-01-05

The telegram addressed to the Pun
was dated from the overland No. 4
train westbound. and due to stop at
barstow at three o'clock that after
noon. 1t read this way.
Shall arrive at Barstow with Az
mes and Mildred, on way to Los An
geles, at 3 o'clock this afternoon.
Meet train and accompany us part of
way.
MOTHER
The telegram had been directed ia
the Pup at the ranch, but the operator.
knowing that the Pup was along with
the S-Triangle-z outfit in Barstow. of
course. didn't hike the pony boy out
there with 1t.
:" 1t appearin',' said Tim Mallon,
after each of us had read the tele.
gram. that this :yere Pups NAV, an.
like as not, his two sisters-th' same
bein' tn young ladies mentioned in
this message-are due t. slope long
this-a-way in something less'n six
hours from now, I'm advisin' that this
yere present drunk be switched. side
tracked, an Temporarily passed up on
til these we're lady relatives o. tn Pup's
gifts in an out O. Barstow agin. an
furthermore, I'm recommendin' that
all hands immejitly git sure-'enough
busy In helpin' t sober tn Pup I'D.
SO that wen these we're kins-ladies O.
his'n hike along they'll find him fit t.
be seen an heard an honor t. old
3-Triangle-Z. How bout it?'
Tins suggestion went with a whoop.
and all hands turned their tin cups
down as sign and token that they
were stringing along with Tim in his
sentiments.
THE Pup was so sound asleep on top
of the drug store roof that Tim Mallon
and Joe Tanner had to pound on the
soles of his boots with their gun butts
for ten minutes before he opened his
eyes. And when he did open them
and mumbied something 1t was right
clear that the Pups twenty straight
hours of kittenfshness had submerged
him a plenty.
He's some loco, all right remark
ed Tim as he and Joe Tanner picked
the Pup up from the roof and handed
him down to some of us below, but
EFF he hain't a-lookin' peart and purity
wen No. 4 climbs long this-a-way at
3 o'clock it won't be because his
bunk-mates haint done no work over
him. and then, four of us packing
(carrying) the all-in Pup, and the rest
falling in behind, we made for the back
room of Lew Patterns place.
First, the Pup was stripped and
tenderly stretched out on poncho on
the floor of Lewis back room. Then
we formed bucket brigade and passed
along ice-cold water from deep spring
about hundred yards from Lewis.
while Tim Mallon doused the Pup with
it.
After Tim had thrown about a doz-
en- buckets of spring water upon him
the Pup began to wriggle on the pom
cho and sat up. AS he sat up Tim
skunk around behind him. and put a
bottle Of hartshorn beneath his nose.
The Pup gave a Navajo whoop and
stood up straight but swaying like a
Colorado aspen in cyclone. -
Then from behind three or four of
us with buckets full of water threw
them on the Harv Pup all at once. and
he gradually became clear enough to
be able to see out of his eyes and to
get heap rubby around the neckband.
This pleased Tim and Joe so much
that each of them picked up a long
barrel stave and began to give the
Pup a Mexican massage-you could
have heard those slap-sticks a-working
half mile away.
THE Pup started to cuss thickly and
more or less unintelligibly, but he was
improving right along, and he was able
to stand up straighter every minute.
Then Tim back-heeled him, threw him
on the poncho, pried his teeth open
and poured into him powerful dose
OF spirits of ammonia In water that
one of us had got at the drug store on
the advice of the druggist.
Then Joe Tanner sat on the Pup,
while Tim tickled the bottoms of the
Harvard boys feet with a straw for
about ten minutes That appeared to
be about the best stunt of the lot, for
from the beginning of 1t the Pup
started in to cuss connectedly and in
sequence. Then the external water
cure, barrel-stave massage, ammonia
cocktail and all the rest of 1t were
gone over two or three times more,
the Pup bucking, side-wheeIing and
tossing his name uselessly about all
the while. SO that a little after the
hour of noon, when the outfit let up
on him, the boy was looking out of
eyes that were quite middling sensible.
But, imagining that he was the VIC
tim of a hazing at the hands of his
bunkmates, he was dead sore all the
way through, and game enough, at
that, to give his soreness a tongue.
You're bunch Of tin-horn cur
murgeons. be told US as he sat SILVER
ing without any clothes on on a stool
In corner D / Low Patterns back room.
and then 4I1a painting little after
his two he4Fs of hard exsrtion.
stepped forward
"'son 1s|d TIn n kindly tone
fmanl Hi tAIA yere 1tout whut's got
airy thtAE as'In you all-you ought t
know tAat Wen we don't keer none