The river press. [volume] (Fort Benton, Mont.) 1880-current, 1909-05-26

l can't git used to desc newfangled
nOshuns. Seems like de world had
| gone on and left me behind. Seems
like l had been laid up on de shelf wild
old fashioned things to dry out and
become dust.
1T makes me powerful sorry to note
dat de GUILD people am cuttin' away
from de simple life far mo- dan de
white folks. Fo'ty years ago arter my
days work was dun I sot down by
my cabin doah and played de banjo
and was mighty glad to know dat dere
was taters and con meal in de house
fur breakfast. Nine o'clock was my
bedtime, and l was up at 6 in de
mawnin'. If a white man come along
while I was workin' in de garden it
wasn't any strain on me to talk wild
him. l didn't have to rack my brain
fur big words. Sometimes l had hard
cider to drink. but most of de time it
was only water. If fried oysters and
lobster salad had been invented in
dose days l had not heard Of 'em. If
l had gone to de barber shop fur a
hair cut Mrs. Gardner would have
thought de Judgment had come. If I
had come in and found her manicurin'
her nails my knees would have wab-
bled.
"In dose good old days we ate off Of
tin plates. If company drapped in Of
an evenin' buttermilk was thought
good huff to pass around fur refresh
ments. We all talked. but nobody
lugged in Shakespeare and de diction-
airy. Nobody axed hisself to git up
and sing or recite. De women talked
about caliker dresses instead Of de
opera. and de men didn't have any
patent leather shoes to shove into
view. And when de company had de-
parted Mrs. Gardner and me didn't
sit up de rest of de night pitchin' into
'em and tryin' to make out dat dey
was on de way to de poo'house.
A Good Life.
1T was a simple life, but a good life.
You could leave your spade and hoe
i'll de garden Overnight and dey were
right dar in de mawnin'. You could
leave de doah Of your hencoop un-
locked and de hens would be dar next
day. If we traded nevis we p'inted
out de- spavins, and we neber come
home at night and found dat de ole
woman had skipped out wild some cd
der We didn't know muffin about
politics and we keered less. When we
met up wild a strange man we didn't
wonder how much Doodle he had got
away wild. but took him as al honest
pusson and gin him a show.
I'm dose ole days when Sunday come
l took Mrs. Gardner on my arm and
walked a mile or mo- to de meetin'
house. We all sot down on hard
benches. We all fined in de singin'.
De preacher didn't squint and peek
around befo' beginnin' his sermon to
see how many rich sinners was pres
ent, but he jest went right at it slam
bang and hit right and left. He didn't
say dat de sinner with a millyon dol
lars stood a purity good show of goin'
to heaven, while de sinner wild only a
dollar in his pocket was gwine straight
to de roastin' place, but he put us all
IN de same pen. 1t was j1ne de church
or sulphur and brimstun fur rich and
poo alike.
Oar was newspapers in dose days,
and once in awhile l got hold Of one
and spelled de words out. Dey spoke
respectfully Of de government; dey
wasn't full of pictures for de babies;
you might read a dozen and not find
a society scandal. Husbands and wives
'peared to be satisfied wild each other.
and dere wasn't any talk bout mem.
bers Of de legislature sellin' DER votes.
II de papers differed wild a mans poll.
tics dey didn't call him a liar and q
boss thief to show dat dey were right.
'"My frens, when you realize what
was and what Is kin you blame an ole
man fur lamentin' dat de day has
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