The citizen. (Frederick City, Md.) 1895-1923, 1908-08-14

til slep' astraddle of my horse; I've
rode night runs when I'd "a sold my
chance O. comm through for a wore-
out rope an throwed bride in; I've
rode the trail an seen the cattle piled
up dead at poison springs, which amt
no joyful vision by no means, but
when think Of the time the Jack
Hall outfit night-herded Loco Jones
till he seen light, pass; that sure
was terrible" He blew ring of
fragrant smoke and peered out
through 1t as If his eyes reached out
to his beloved mountains and their
canopy Of turquoise sky. "Jones, :"
he said, "wuz poor devil that'd gone
loco tendin' sheep, which amt no
ways uncommonly the end O. SIGH a
life. Bein' alone does it, under the
stars that wink an wink at you with
out no sound. An days an weeks
an months without no human face;
the rustic of the sheep when they
lays down an smell o. wool, by the
'Tarnal, 1t must be awful to live that
Away.
ZONES must a. came from Arizona
or New Mexico becuz he sure kin spit
the Spanish like a native-born, but
no one never heard him tell Just
where his trail had led. His brain
wuz kind O. like crazy quilt, all
full o. patches, no two alike. l kind
O. think sometimes, he'd made mis-
cue back in the past an drifted off to
hide, but II he did we never knowed.
He stood plum six foot three, straight
In his socks an must a. been a won
der of man before the loco ct him
down to skin an bone. His face wuz
tan, but kind o. ashy underneath,
an crow feathers amt no blacker
than his hair, only his hair wuz dull
an hung in strings as if the roots
wuz dead. He first come to the Jack
Hall outfit when Cook wuz holdin'
fort alone, the boys bein' off roundin'
up Poncha pasture, an when I rode
in at night he'd settled down to bein'
plum at home.
Bill, Cook says. introducin of
him, I has new-found neighbor, an
] hopes friend, which lives some
place on Poncha, close to Cottonwood.
I'd wish to have you meet him, as
near as kin make it out his name is
Jones'
My name, the stranger says, lis
RELY Norval, becuz I tends my ia
theirs focks, but Jones'll do. A rose
by any other named smell as sweet,
as Shakespeare says, so Jones'll do.
The world is runnin' over with the
name of Smith, an so l takes the
name O. Jones to help the Joneses
out looks at Cook, which points
his finger at his head an winks,
which sets me straight, an then old
Bull which'd been snoozin' some place
in the sun comes up. odds boddi-
kins.' says Jones, a very devil of a
dog. Here, knave, come here an
dern my pictures If Bull don't walk
straight up to him an lick his hand,
which sure wuz plub unnatural, him
bein' backward dog by nature an
slow in hookin up with strangers.
Plum locoed, says Cook, speakin'
Kind O. absent-minded, but noways
misstatin' of the truth.
That's right says Jones. The
whole world locoed, all but me-
That amt noways lie,' says
Cook, to square the bread he'd made.
It's the eternal truth says
Jones. as this here doggie knows,
which he tells me with his eyes. |
sees the real heart O. things, the good
an true an beautiful, only my head
is full O. prickly little aches that
never dies.
Il seen his case wuz hopeless from
the start, sheep herdin' serves white
men hathaway sometimes, but he
turned out to be handy man to have
around an buckled up to Cook an
Bull like they wuz long-lost brothers
an helped around the shack an, did
odd chores an acted as if he wuz
a-tryin' to show that. he wuz white.
He'd built hisself shack, but mostly
days he hung around with Cook an
Bull, an no time amt passed till he
wuz pretty near as much fixture of
the Jack Hall outfit as Bull hisself.
which sure is sayin' lots. Sometimes
he's middlin' sensible, which times is
mostly when the weather's dry, but
when it's muggy an the air is thick
an wet the pain gets awful ~
head an his eyes has the sam
look you see a locoed steer ha
ne lays down to die. Them
Jones walks by hisself, an seems 10
kind O. lose his eyesight an steps
high, for all the world like a locoed
steer that jumps over pieces O. straw
an SHES at things that amt noways
unusual, an he spouts out poetry an
waves his arms an uses words that
none of us kin get no sense from,
bein' some foreign language, Greek
or French. amt a-sayin' which. but
mostly he's only harmless as IL his
body had plain an simple outgrowed
his mind.
In stormy weather, when the cat
tied get restless an. the boys'd be
out night-ridin' them, once IN while
they'd get sight o. Jones, barehead-
ed an wet strings hangin' every