Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1916-02-15

the cause Of art and glorify the name
Of friendship, for Lonny is one Of
them, a knight Of stirrup and chapar.
reras, as handy with the lariat and As
as he is with brush and palette.
On a March afternoon the lobby
dashed, with whoop. into town. The
cowpunchers had adjusted their garb
suitably from that prescribed for the
range to the more conventional require.
ments of town. They had conceded
their leather chaparreras and transfer
red their six shooters and belts from
their persons to the horns of their sad.
dies. Among them rode Lonny, youth
Of twenty-three, brown. solemn faced,
ingenious, bowlegged. redcent. be-
striding Hot Tamales, the most saga
cious cow pony west Of the Mississip-
pi. Senator Mullens had informed him
of the bright prospects Of the situa-
ton; had even mentioned-so great was
his confidence in the capable Kinney
the price that the state would, In all
likelihood, pay. It seemed to Lonny
that fame and fortune were In his
hands. Certainly a spark Of the d.
vine fire was in the little brown GEN.
taur's breast, for he was counting the
$1,000 as but means to future devel-
opment of his talent. Some day he
would paint a picture even greater
than this-one, say. II feet by 20. full
Of scope and atmosphere and action.
During the three days that yet inter.
vened before the coming Of the date
fixed for the Introduction Of the bill
the centaur lobby did valiant service
Coatless, spurred, weather tanned, full
Of enthusiasm expressed In bizarre
terms they loafed in front Of the paint
ing with tireless zeal. Reasoning not
unshrewdly, they estimated that their
comments upon its fidelity to nature
would be received as expert evidence.
Loudly they praised the skill Of the
painter whenever there were ears neal
to which such evidence might be profit
ably addressed Lem Perry, the lead.
er Of the claque, had a somewhat set
speech, being uninventive In the con-
struction Of new phrases.
'Look at the two-year-old now" he
would say, waving cinnamon brown
hand toward the salient point Of the
picture. "Why, dang my hide. the
critters alive. I can jest hear him,
1umpety-lump,' a-cuttin' away from
the herd, pretendin' he's skeered. He's
a mean scamp, that there steer. Look
at his eyes a-wallin' and his tail a-wav.
in. He's true and nat'ral to life. He's
Jest hankerin' fur cow pony to round
him up and send him scootin' back to
the bunch. Dang my hide! Jest look
at that tail Of his'n a-wavin'. Never
knowed a steer to wave his tail any
other way. dang my hide ef did,
Jud Shelby, while admitting the ex.
cellence of the steer, resolutely con-
fined himself to open admiration Of
the landscape. to the end that the en-.
tire picture received its need Of praise.
"That piece of range" he declared,
'.is q dead ringer for Dead Hoss valley.
Same grass. same lay Of the land, same
old Whipperwill creek skallyhootin' in
and out Of theru motifs Of timber. Them
buzzards on the left Is circlin' round
over Sam Kldrake's old paint boss
that killed hisself over drinkin' on q
hot day. You can't see the boss for
that mott Of ellums on the creek. but
he's thar. Anybody that was goin' to
look for Dead Hoss valley and come
across this picture, why, he'd jest light
oft'n his broncho and hunt place to
camp"
Skinny Rogers, welded to comedy,
conceived a complimentary little piece
of acting that never failed to make an
impression. Edging quite near to the
picture, he would suddenly at favora-
BILE moments emit piercing and
awful "Yi-yiw leap high and away,
coming down with great stamp of
heels and whirring Of rowels upon the
stone tagged floor.
"Jeeming Christopher!'-so ran bis
lines-"thought that rattler was GIN
u-ine one. Ding baste my skin If I
didn't! Seemed to me heard him rat
tie. Look at the blamed unconverted
insect a-layin' under that pear! Little