The Coconino sun., 1920-03-19

K, very pleasant unpleasant afternoon in June. The suns rays came pouring down on the underneath, scorching helpless earth like it had come from the hot place. The air was still by jerks and by jerks it wasn't still. In the latter hysterical spells, it stirred up, rolled up, doubled up and pounded up in your face and through your arti- fcial protection the ten million year sifted, shifted, gulberiZed, formerly consolidated earth dust in a manner that would make any sensible, irration- al man think of home and mother and as did the poet scribble, "There's a land that beats this all to smash" etc.
 A thunder gust was raging and roaring along the western rocky-peak- ed points of the horizon extension and its gleamings, and it's rumblings and its grumblings distinctly said plainer than big words to the valley rats, You aint in it," and thought so, too, for though there is plenty of evi- dence that at some time in the long ago there was water and to spare throughout the now anything but Eden of man, it is also evident indeed that even in the long ago another con dition set in till it is now so dry that the inhabitants wish to drink other liquids than water.
 As gaZed around and fell head over heels, face foremost from the de- pot platform into last years mud puddle, the dusky inhabitants gather ed around me to see what ex-presi- dent had come to town. How many there were of them l will never tell because they were all so greasy that l did not desire to count them. Later took a good square look at the Holy City of Faith--Santa Fe-and was not a little surprised. to look upon a city of stiff-mud, called adobe. was still more surprised to observe that in this . Santa Fe there was, if my recollection serves me right, only one two story building complete in the entire city and this building is the main entrance to the penitentiary. As l stood and looked with wonder on this second sur prise, my thoughts came back to me: If this is a representation of the Eter- nal City of Faith, O, my! where will the whang- doodle preachers go?
 On the following day l took trip out into those delightful, exquisite, picturesque, bald-headed sand hills that are the eighteenth wonder of the world, especially when the wind blows at the rate of so miles per hour. After travelling for some hours or more, met a long-haired, black-eyed, blank eted man whom my natural instinct told me was an Indian. He halted me and said something about "buenos das." He might as we'll have said Zip bum za," for all me. Then after staring at me for a full minute, he said: "Domo chupa."
 Then we scrutinized each other in blank cartridge silence. He then laughed, as he showed his white teeth and said: "Savvy?" This word almost came home to me, because it seemed that had heard it up in the north ern part of nowhere, where nothing grows but trees. Therefore, in re- sponse I said: "No, sir"
 His next remark, in as good Eng fish as any English-speaking parrot could say, was: "Please give me some tobacco"
 In answer, l told him l did not use it, and furthermore, did not believe it was fit to use except to fatten to- bacco worms. Whereupon he cut in a short phrase which sounded like, "Tu no buenos," and it is probably lucky thing l did not know what he said or would have broke in his upper story and there would have been one white man less and probably two second- class funerals more.
 A few days later l went to board at a place where there was two grass widows and mule, and having de- sire to learn the Mexican half-tongue, I hired the younger widow to teach it to me. After taking a few lessons, found that the Spanish is a very pe- culiar language and that they use the same word to express many things. For instance, the little word "si" in English is if, whether, since, indeed, oneself, yourself, themselves, etc., etc, etc., to only one step this side of ad minimum. In few weeks l also be- gan to learn that was studying other things that suited me better than Spanish, and almost before l knew it, I found that was dead in love with the cross-eyed girls sister.
 What to say to her I did not know in her laguage, if l did in my own. However, being a Yankee from Arkan- sas, was not be beaten in that way. eot thC pafiloIl ulSIiOualy and sought with the greatest diligence the words l wanted to say. On the following evening, however, when 1 tried to convey my intentions to my sweet honeysuckle, my heart and my gizard failed me as did my recollec- ton. soon fairly realized that was making smash instead of mash" There sat for an hour Git seemed to me an eteinity) and stared and stared. I believe would have been staring yet if my fair instructor had not said (being bored): Que tones tu?" (What ails you?) This brought me to my senses and having broken the spells back, l said my little piece.
 After hearing my short but earnest declination she looked upon me in dead silence, till my heart fell within me and I wished that milestone would fall from the pinnacle of fame and blot out my troubled existence. See ing my disturbed condition, she said something in Spanish, which, al- Al