El Paso herald. (El Paso, Tex.) 1901-1931, 1910-10-26


Portland, though he did not always
sympathize with unions; had 'growed
UP" in Oregon and had never been east
of Spokane, but no - - -
could say he could whip him.
A little short fellow wearing a hig
pearl AK on his coat lapel and big
cud of tobacco in his jaw, meanders IN
and declares he is a 'neighbor, which
means a lodge brother, and that he 5
ready to help Ira. Ira, big and tall
and built like an OK, but with the thin
neck that gives proof of what he has
said about tubercular affliction, smiles
as he towers over the table and pauses
to let his words soak in on the other
card players and story tellers, who
have ceased 10 talk and are watching
The partner at the card table,
short, rather stout man with a derbT,
sits still; he is calm. He looks Up,
smiles, declares he never insulted a
sick man and never will, and says he
IS sorry. Ira pats him approvingly on
the back, declares Il believe you are a
real man, partner" and then pulls orr
a quart bottle half full of whisky that
he has in his big overcoat pocket
is cold in the cabin as the boiler evil
IDENTIFY needs all the steam, so over
coats have not been removed. Ira says
more when it's gone. Ira hasn't yet
learned of the danger of tuberculosis
and Ira's friends are as ignorant, for
Ira takes a nip at the bottle and then
passes it around. The little short fell
low with the pearl ak on his lapel, re-
moves his tobacco long enough TO
drink second, resumes his chewing and
the bottle goes around. Nobody re-
fuses. There are other tables and other
groups and other arguments and other
bottles 1t is a 12-hour trip and, many
incidents occur on 12-hour trip
among such men as these. At every
stop some get off and some get or:
faces change, but the crowd is the
same
The Little Mother.
Back in the rear cabin is Ira's aged
mother with her little companion
full of cookies. A companion" IS about
a fortieth cousin to the handbag of to-
day, is generally made of brown Oil
cloth, almost square in shape, though
q little oblong, and has a bright, shiny
tin design on one side. Thirty years
ago backwoods country women and
sometimes others not so backwoodsy,
used these; up here among the rural
people and the fishermen's families
they are still in vogue. Ira's mother
nibbIes her cookies, wipes a tear from
her wrinkled face, and relates to an
other woman her own age, with big,
gawky, 2Oyearold pimpfe faced daugn-
ter, how Ira is going to the SANTA
rum.
She Came From Texas.
A little yellow-brown headed womsn
with snaggle teeth, in a cheap tailored
suit opens up a big old fashioned va
lise. of black oilcloth and spreads out
an assortment of celluloid combs n
coIors, shell covered boxes, needle
packets celluloid buttonhole orna-
ments," shell jewelry ornamented with
brass wire and other articles as nu-
merous as worthless, and is soon the
center of a dozen women of all ages,
mostly with faded flower hats and
plain clothes, and she soon sells
enough stuff, probably, to pay the
freight on the wagon and team and
three dogs down on the first deck,
while the husband is playing cards at
a table in the front end of the boat.
where Ira and his friends are again
passing the bottle. The husband wears
sideburns and has a little compass for
a scarf pin The wife confides to her
customers that they have come from
Texas, through Arizona, New Mexico,
Nevada and Idaho, and that she has
traded her wares" for chickens and
eggs and butter, which she has sold
in the larger towns. She is now head
ing for a region where she ought TO
make harvest.
GLASS and Democracy.
The tourists engage staterooms on
the steamer-very plain little rooms
with hunks and clean, though rough
linen, and escape the natives by keep
ing to themselves except at meal time,
when everybody with half a dollar is
on an equal footing and the women
from the rear cabin clean off the fruit
and cakes by dropping them into their
companions" for future use when the
curly headed walters back is turned.
The Scenery.
The wonderful beauty of the Colurn-
bia river scenery repays for all the
of the voyage and the
tourist after II hours of it, lands at
The DaIles satisfied, but glad it is
over. You pass famous old Mount
Hood with its snow-covered peak and
sides glistening in the sun, as far I'D
as you can see for the cloudS-when
it is clear day, the entire peak tow
ers above you in majestic splendor The
cliffs on the Oregon side and the won
derful valleys and mountains on rhe
side of the famous salmon
stream form a kaleidoscope picture
that is unequaled for beauty. In places
the bluffs and crags rise several hun
dred feet above the water; cataracts
tumble over the sides of these, glisten-
ing at distance like silver threads,
pouring their sparkling, foaming coll
tents into the great stream and flow
Ing on to the Pacific Here and there
a little village in the mountains,
cannery on the bank or a sawmin or
rock quarry call for a boat stop and
the natives all come down to see and
be seen. Frequently a fisherman's