Western Kansas world. [volume] (WaKeeney, Kan.) 1885-current, 1909-09-25
Looking For The Kansas
Freak
By New England Puritan)

the inhabitants of other states:
that the endless vista of the
landscape, the coppery glare on
the sky, the storms of ice and
terrible cyclones. with their at
tendant failures of crops had
made of him a being, wild eyed,
morose and diScontented, seek
ing an outlet for his failures in
insane political theories unheard
of among other people. And so
when my friend and [, eastern
visitors from the rock-ribbed
hills of New England, with her
social ideas as fixed as her eter-
nal piles of granite, started on
trip across the continent, it was
with the expectation that we
would see this strange people.
this home of wild west" aggre-
cation and freaks of the border.
Now with our own eyes were
we to see these things SO strange
and out of touch with New Eng
land people. We were to see
the broad expanse of Bison
range the home of the prairie
dog. the owl and the rattlesnake
but above all the freak people
and the queer holes in the
ground in which they made their
abode.
AS we crawled into our berthS
at ST. Louis to sleep as we were
whirled toward our destination,
our minds settled into dreams
of the strange country through
ioh TO
heard the coyotes cry of the
night and saw the strange and
haggard faces that had given the
Kansas man the name of freak.
We awakened in Kansas City,
to hear the roar of many trains,
the movement of commerce and
the noise that answers the call of
a great city. They told US it
was city of two or three hun
dred thousand people. What
did it mean, city like this
jammed up against Kansas
the wild and wooley.
Now again the train pulled up
the world toward the west. A
a hundred miles further Surely
we were in the native haunts of
at the fields and farm houses and
watched the people at the sta
ton, but the cities were fair, the
valleys beautiful and the faces
peering at the on-rushing train
seemed happy and contented.
We pass on. The afterooon
sun comes in at the car windows,
but the great rolling plain
stretches away mile after mile.
dotted with fine farm houses and
surrounded by trees and shrub
berry. Think of it handsome
houses and trees. What were
they doing here, in the desert,
the home of the coyote and the
freak? Hundreds of wheat
stacks were spread over the
landscape too, and the black coal
smoke of the steam thresher
curled upward over miles of
country which had been vast
fields of wheat, but now a golden
stream passing out over the iron
rails.
Here we are at a small station
with two big elevators beside the
track A long string of wagons
loaded with wheat is waiting at
each for their turn to be relieved
of their burden. We look eager
ly into the faces of the men
about the station to catch a CLEAN
of the crouch in their souls, but
alas their faces are wreathed in
smiles and there is a kindly
greeting for all. And what are
those fine autos doing out yon-
der by the village store? They
tell US they are owned by farm
ers who live ten or twelve miles
in the country. Not one, but
half a dozen swing into line and
clatter away over the road that
is like the city pavement. Sure
ly this is not Kansas with her
freaks, failures and discomfort.
We have been dreaming and
missed our way The shades of
night draw near and the engine
whistles and the conductor calls,
Ellis. All day long for over
three hundred miles we had
been riding in the land of freaks
I and dug-outs, but our eyes had
favored with the sight of neither.
We saw hundreds of people get
on and off the train during the
day but they were not the wild
eyed, long haired freaks whom