Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1909-11-16
Ths Story Tellsr.
WOULDN'T STAY DOWN.
Story of Adversely Overcome,
Told In Smoking Car.

Told In Smoking Car.
Poor old Jackson!" sighed the
shoe drummer, with a sympathetic
shake Of his head; II guess he's down
and out this time"
Don't you belive it," said the hard
ware salesman. "Old Jackson's
down, but he amt out by long shot.
He's as game as they make 'em, and
before they can count ten on him,
he'll be up and goin' again"
Its been my experience" observed
the red-headed person in the corner,
that a good man is never down and
out until he is dead. Take that Mis-
souri, milliner for instance. He
81 thought you was talking about
men," put in the shoe drummer.
"I am" said the red-headed person.
This is, or was, a man milliner. The
only thing feminine about him was
the goods he sold. He was jobber
and he had big trade. But he fall
ed. People who didn't know how
much of man he was said of him, as
YOU have said of Jackson, that he'd
seen his finish. He disappeared for
time, but the other day he bobbed
I'D again in his home town with
good-sized fortune in cash In his
pocket, and he'd made every dollar
of it in gravel-just plain gravel. No,
sir; you can't keep a good man
down."
That's right" agreed the traveller
from Terre Haute. There's some
thing in that old story about the
catch-as-catch-can rassler who got
stronger every time he touched
ground. Now, I used to know a man
we'll, guess I might say I know
him yet, though I haven't seen him
for a long time-who went down fur
ther an climbed back up longer hill
than anybody that ever lived, l
imagine"
"Then he must have scratched
gravel, too," suggested the red
headed man.
mo, not exactly-and yet, come to
think Of 1t, he did, in way. I'll put
it up to the crowd If you don't mind"
Nobody seemed to mind, so the
traveller from Terre Haute bit off the
ragged end of his cigar stub and pro-
ceeded to put 1t up"
His names Jenkins" he began,
Lorenzo Dow Jenkins-named after
the time Methodist circuit rider,
YOU know. Father and mother was
so strait-laced they didn't smile on
Sundays. Everybody called him
Dow. He grew up about as long an
about as wide as fence rail, but he
was all ginger. One day drummer
asked one Of his customers: What
was that just went by?' Was 1t a
MANI says the customer. Don't
know, says the drummer, 1T was gone
before I could get my eyes focused
Then it must "a been Dow Jenkins,
saws the customer. That's the way
he went. He was so thin and travel
ed so fast 1t took a quick eye to catch
him when he was on the move. He
went into the real estate business an
made money hand over fist. But In
stead Of soakin' away some Of it, he
put every dollar he got into his busi-
ness. When the hard times come
along in the early '90s, he was tangled
up in a lot o. big deals that was
more'n he could carry, an like many
another good fellow, he went under.
Lost every cent he had.
20 top O. that, he took down sick
and laid in bed for months. When
he got up he wasn't any thinner, but
he was a whole lot slower. He was
all stiffened up with rheumatism and
had to go around with a cane. He
doctored an doctored, but it didn't do
no good. At last he makes up his
mind to go down into southwest Texas
or New Mexico. So he borrows a lit
tie stake and strikes out. At Kansas
City somebody sneaks into his room
an takes his pocket-book. Left him
fiat broke again. Didn't even leave
his ticket. But he'd started, an he
wasn't goin' to turn back. He was
about seven-eighths dead anyhow,
an he figured 1t wouldn't matter
much how or where he lost the other
eighth. So he started out to tramp
it.
"Well, the railroad men were kind
to him, givin' him lift now an then,
an he got along pretty we'll until one
night he crawled into box car down
at McAlester, in the Indian Territory
The head brakeman on that train was
murderous brute, and when he dis
covered Dow in the car an found he
didn't have any money, he grabbed
the poor devil by the back Of his coat
collar an threw him out.
| The train at the time was goin'
pretty fast, an was runnin' along a
high fill, the ground slopin' steep
from the track down about sixty feet
to the level of a little valley. Down
this slope Dow rolled over an over
until he landed kerplunk in shallow
creek that flowed along the base Of
the fll. That, 1 reckon, is when he
scratched gravel. He didn't know
anything for a while, but he wasn't
much hurt, an after a bit his brain
gets to workin' again in a hazy sort
O. way.
| 81 guess I'm dead this time for
certain was the first thought that
came to him.
| Then a mighty bad smell crept up
into his nose.
AN 1 must "a been dead a long
time, too says he to himself.
Pretty soon he began to realize
that he was cold, an that brought
another thought.
| Anyhow says his muddled brain,
1T amt hot, so 1 guess I've got to the
right place.
by an by he opened his eyes an
found that he was lynn stretched out
on his back in the bed o the creek,
the water singin' about his ears an