The Olneyville times. (Olneyville [Providence, R.I.]) 1887-1917, 1907-09-06


SHIPPED of our boyhood.
That heroic region OF the golden
West whose life appealed to US so
wildly from the pages paper-bound
novels dear TO the heart OF the
A. ID. T." and every other hesh-and-
blood boy who began life with the
proper American ambition to end IL
in a career OF ruthless outlawry. is a
delusion-an imposture.
The pistols, gambling, rough
riders, sombreros, and deeds Of dar-
ing and villainly have all passed as
completely as Indians from the place
where they made the treaty with
William Penn up in Kensington.
That man who remembers the best
joys of his youth, and who would
cherish the Texas which was the
promised land of his dream days, will
do well to keep without the borders
of the Lone Star State.
We ourselves have tasted no pleas
ures as satisfying as those we gained
while lodging maternal reproof in
the garret, the while to reveal in the
heroism of Cowboy Bill, King of the
Texas Rangers.
We have thrilled when our turbu-
lent hero on the high road enacted
his favorite role of primitive So
cialist, who robbed the rich that he
might aid the poor. We adored his
picturesque appearance as he sat on
his mustang. like king on a throne,
his lariat across his high saddle, a
brace of pistols and bowie knife at
his belt, a sombrero with a flaring
front upturned, so that all might see
his raven hair, the fearless eye and
frowning face, SCARED and scanned
from bullet and knife wounds.
Our hearts were with him when
he rescued the maiden in distress,
and at such times we would rather
have been his humblest retainer than
have gone into the White House.
We hoped during the trip to the
Southwest early this spring we would
find some survival of this life in
Texas, II only an occasional outlaw
who would recall to us the kind os
ruffian we once aspired to be when
planning to infect some terrible ven-
geance on a school teacher who had
dealth hardly with us.
We counted the hours till we
should reach Texas. The Indian
Territory had been rather disappoint-
ing. Not a single Indian rewarded
a days search from the observation
car.
But Texas would make good for it
all. We couldn't doubt that. Some
thing would certainly be there to give
reality TO pictures formed in youth.
Across the Red River. In the
promised land at last. From the
window we strained fondly for a
glance at the soil of the cowboy hero,
but We had not gone five minutes
into the State before the awakening
was under way.
In the front of the Pullman, Topsy
Hartsel. Shreck, Murphy, Monte
Cross and a couple of others were
playing a harmless little game Of
poker, with the stakes sadly limited
by the fact that ball players salary
doesn't start till the championship
season is under way.
The conductor, who during the
transit Of Missouri, Kansas and In
dian Territory had watched the game
with sympathetic and expert eye,
stepped into the car, his face fixed
with the purpose of a stern resolve.
Gentlemen" he said, I'm sorry,
but you'll have TO stop that game"
why" came a surprised chorus.
well, you're in Texas. where
poker is a misdemeanor The laws
of this State absolutely forbid the
playing Of cards in public places,
even where there are no stakes. II
you continue you are liable to be
taken from the train at the next sta
tion and thown into jail"
Shades Of the master genius who
invented poker. and of the writer's
who have found it a fecund theme!
What of a thousand stories Of stern
faced gamblers, pistols at hand, play
ing for huge stakes and taking the
first sign of crookedness as signal
for shooting? No poker in Texas ?