MKl Ill I!! HlUr;i mi] 111 I!;!! till! HNH i^i iwiliiu! lilii ^-Pitcher Itfbocfiuord AUTHOR'S EDITION /? JUNE, 1902 R. Pitcher Woodward at his journey's end. ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK A Tempestuous Voyage of Four Thousand and Ninety-Six Miles Across the American Continent on a Burro, in 340 Days and 2 Hours STARTING WITHOUT A DOLLAR AND EARNING MY WAY BY R. PITCHER WOODWARD (PYTHAGORAS POD) AUTHOR OF "TRAINS THAT MET IN THE BLIZZARD" Containing Thirty-nine Pictures from Photographs Taken "en Voyage" . 1902 I. H. BLANCHARD Co., PUBLISHERS NEW YORK COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY R. PITCHER WOODWARD 9$ CONTENTS. PART I. I. Madison Square to Yonkers 1 1 II. Donkey's many ailments 19 III. Polishing shoes at Vassar 27 IV. An even trade no robbery 35 V. The donkey on skates 42 VI. Mac held for ransom 51 VII. I mop the hotel floor 60 VIII. Footpads fire upon us 68 IX. In a haymow below zero 74 X. An asinine snowball 83 XL One bore is enough 90 XII. At a country dance 98 XIII. A peculiar, cold day 105 XIV. I bargain for eggs in XV. Gypsy girl tells fortune 116 XVI. All the devils are here 123 XVII. Darkest hour before dawn 132 XVIII. Champagne avenue, Chicago 142 PART II. BY PYE POD AND MAC A'RoNY. XIX. Donk causes a sensation 153 XX. A donkey for Alderman 158 XXI. A donkey without a father 169 XXII. Rat trap and donkey's tail 173 XXIII. Mac crosses the Mississippi 178 XXIV. Pod hires a valet 183 3 CONTENTS XXV. Done by a horsetrader . . 190 XXVI. Pod under arrest 197 XXVII. Adventure in a sleeping bag 208 XXVII. Mayor rides Mac A'Rony 213 XXIX. Accross the Missouri in wheelbar- row 219 XXX. Pod in insane asylum 224 XXXI. Narrow escape in quicksand 237 XXXII. At Buffalo Bill's ranch 243 XXXIII. Fourth of July in the desert . . 250 XXXIV. Bitten by a rattler 253 XXXV. Havoc in a cyclone 260 XXXVI. Two pretty dairy maids 265 XXXVII. Donks climb Pike's Peak 273 XXXVIII. Sights in Cripple Creek 280 XXXIX. Baby girl named for Pod 287 XL. Treed by a silvertip bear 293 XLI. Nearly drowned in the Rockies .... 304 XLIL Donkey shoots the chutes 309 XLIII. Paint sign with donk's tail 319 XLI V. Swim two rivers in Utah 326 XLV. Initiated to Mormon faith 339 XLVI. Typewriting on a donkey 343 XLVII. Pod kissed by sweet sixteen 348 XLVIII. Last drop in the canteen 352 XLIX. How donkey pulls a tooth 364 L. Encounter with two desperadoes. . 369 LI. Donk, boy and dried apples 380 LII. Lost in Nevada desert 385 LIII. A frightful ghost dance 393 LIV. Across Sierras in deep snow 400 LV. All down a toboggan slide 409 LVI. 'Frisco at last, we win! 415 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. (Portrait) The traveler at the journey's end. "I bade my friends farewell." "We consumed a half hour in the gigantic task." "I found the captive drinking with other jackasses." "We tramped tired and footsore into the village." "Mac could draw my luggage instead of carrying it." "Mac's little legs would get stuck." "Mac supervised the work." "The only time I got ahead of him." "I scrutinized his hat inquisitively." "He accused me of attempting suicide." "We made slow headway to the Mississippi. "In this way I crossed that bridge of size." "And I saw the streak of daylight." "Mac was so slow that his shadow beat him to town." "Over the Platte bridge, after blindfolding them." "I killed my first rattlesnake." "That was the town of Korty." "Climbing Pike's Peak." "He had caught a nice mess of trout." "Trail through the timber." "Independence Pass; one of the loftiest of the Conti- nental Divide." "Trail to Florisant." 5 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "Two days of hard climbing to cross Western Pass." 'Through thickets, tangled roots and fallen trees." "To swim and float on Salt Lake." "Skull Valley desert, we stopped to feed and rest." "The last and only drop." "Just finished lunch when the posse arrived." "Coonskin and I took shelter behind our donkeys." "Through Devil's Gate, their panniers scraped the walls of the rocky gateway." "Fired their revolvers in the air." "Some Piute Indians who had camped close by." "Playing Solitaire on Damfino's broad back." "Began to plow snow toward Placerville. "The cattle passed us, after we donks had broken the trail." "Across on the exclusive Solano." "I pointed toward the goal." "The ferry approach in 'Frisco was choked with a rabble." PROLOGUE. This is as true a story of my "voyage" as I am capable of writing. Besides the newspaper accounts, two magazine articles, illustrated on this subject have been published, the only ones contributed by me, and they hardly outlined the trip. I have left out a hundred interesting incidents and culled and edited until I am tired, in order to condense this volume to convenient size. On the other hand, notable adventures only recalled by my photographs have been cheated of a mention, because the donkey ate my notes he ate everything in sight, and did not discrimin- ate between a comic circus poster and a tragic diary. Ever since completing the trip, I have promised this book "next month," but owing to the checkered career of the MS. with ninety-seven publishers (all of whom declared that the book should be brought out at once, but they lacked the nerve to publish it), I am only now able to fulfil my promises. This is no romance. When I did not walk with the donkey or carry him, he carried me the whole four thousand and ninety-six miles, which includes the distance traveled when he balked and backed. With my two cameras I secured six hundred pictures descrip- tive of the journey across eleven states, through the four sea- sons, during that long, long year; only by them and my diary am I brought to realize it is not a wild, weird dream. Now it is over, I sometimes smile over things recalled which, when they happened, found me as serious as the donk grave in the superla- tive degree and thoughtless people and those who never even crossed the plains by train may style my experience a mere outing or "picnic." General Fremont and other distinguished pioneers emphasize in their writings the pleasures of their over- land trips. They, as did the emigrants of the '405 and '505, set out in spring time from the Missouri or the Mississippi in com- panies, with money, wagons, cattle and supplies, and with one- third of the continent already behind them. The Indians and big PROLOGUE game of the prairies provided excitement that lent a charm to the undertaking; it is dull monotony that kills. I started four days before winter, practically without money, to support, from earnings only, myself and dumb partner from New York city to San Francisco. It required twelve weeks to traverse the Empire State, through a severe season when and where I suffered the most. The de- lightful part of the journey was while crossing the Rockies. In- stead of taking the shortest cut, I had to consider the towns where I might best make expenses, to look for the best roads and desert trails by springs. Three times when lost I traveled far out of my course, once twenty miles into a mountain forest. It is only five days across by rail. Have you traveled it in summer? How monotonous grew those seas of alkali, sand (rock waste), cacti and sage as the hours lengthened into days! Yet with comfortable beds, shade, meals served, cool drinks, and books to read, at times feeling yourself speeding through the air a mile to the minute, you wearied of the "voyage." Five days ! Multi- ply them into weeks, then into months, double and add five weeks forty-nine weeks ! Fancy yourself for such a period on a slow burro which walks half your natural pace, and so small that if you wear roller skates while in the saddle you may ease the ani- mal ; ride one mile astride ; when you feel about to split, ride the second mile side-ways ; when your back feels ready to break, ride the third mile Turkish fashion; by this time your legs are be- numbed and your feet asleep, so walk a mile and carry the jack- ass; you will thereby quiet your nerves, rest your bones, and make better time. If ever you are tempted to ride a donkey overland, refrain. Rather creep across backwards on your hands and knees, or cir- cumnavigate the globe in a washtub. If you still persist, why, ride a donkey twenty miles in a pouring rain, then follow your own judgment. If you wish my donkey's advice, I will introduce him. His head is longer than his ears, which was not the case when he set out with me. R. P. W. '/ bade my friends farewell. PART 1. On a Donkey's Hurricane Deck CHAPTER I. By this hand, thou think'st me as far in the devil's book as thou and Falstaff, for obduracy and persistency. Let the end try the man. Shakespeare. A noisy, curious, gaping multitude was crowded about the Bartholdi Hotel, New York. It was just after the noon hour on Friday, November 27, 1896, the day on which I was to start on my long and memorable journey across the continent on a donkey. The corridors were filled with interested guests, the reception room held about a hundred of my friends who had come to bid me God- speed, and less than a hundred thousand people choked Madison Square and the streets leading into it. I had agreed with a friend to forfeit to him five thousand dollars, in case I should fail to make a donkey trip from New York to San Francisco in three hundred and forty-one days, under the following conditions : Start from New York City, without a dollar in pocket and without begging, borrowing, or stealing, procure a donkey, and, riding or leading the beast, earn my way across the continent to San Francisco, and register at its leading hotel within the schedule time. I must cover the whole distance with a donkey by road or trail only; an- nounce in a prominent newspaper of New York my start, at least twenty-four hours in advance, and mention the hour, day, and starting point. Seated on a donkey, I must parade on portions of Broadway, Fourteenth and Twenty- ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK third Streets, Fifth, Madison, and West End Avenues; both the donkey and I must wear spectacles, and I a frock- coat and ''plug" hat, but, the latter to be discarded at pleasure when once across the Mississippi River, the coat to be worn to San Francisco. I slyly suggested the two most absurd conditions, be- lieving it would be easier to earn my way in the role of a comedian than in the garb of a serious-thinking, imposed- upon mortal. I reasoned that I should have to live on sensation and notoriety, and, perhaps, keep from starving by employing my wits. These reflections I kept to myself. My "friend" chuckled amusedly, doubtless picturing in his mind the circus I was about to provide. Without delay I began the preparations for the asinine journey. After much troublesome searching, I managed with the help of Hennessy, a stable-keeper, and Dr. Moore, a veterinary surgeon, to secure an option on a small donkey at James Flanagan's sale stables. Macaroni was the animal's name, and the price to be paid was $25. Then I got our coachman to go among his friends to see if he could get hold of a coat a Prince Albert and stove-pipe hat. He succeeded admirably, and when I had ordered spectacles for myself and the donkey, I was ready for the trip. I reached the hotel on the appointed day at one o'clock, borrowed the donkey for my official start, sent him back to the stables, then went to the Reception Room. Among my friends awaiting were my "friend," the land- lord of the hotel, a photographer who had taken a picture of me seated on the donkey a few days before, and had come to deliver the photos ; and my attorney, for the Chief of Police had refused me a permit to parade on the streets, and threatened my arrest if I proved to be a public nui- sance. I borrowed a pen and bottle of ink, and, after bowing a greeting to my friends assembled, set to work MADISON SQUARE TO YONKERS putting my autograph on the pictures, which I offered for sale at twenty-five cents. Bless my suspenders, and how they went ! I made up my mind that we "two donkeys" would many times have greater difficulty in obtaining quarters before I reached my destination. For an hour the fist of Pye Pod swung a powerful quill and inscribed on each photograph a name that would go into his-story. Silver jingled on the table ; the anxious hands of the crowding patrons got mixed in the shuffle, and some got two pictures and others got none; the ink flew about recklessly, and there were no blotters at hand ; my heart thumped, and I was so excited that I kissed by mistake an indignant girl friend in place of my sister; and finally stole my sister's lace handker- chief, instead of that of a sweetheart, but which, however, I failed to discover till six months afterward ; and still I lacked the requisite sum. I now had twenty-four dollars, but I needed at least forty-one. Although I had made a five-dollar payment to Flanagan, that money came from my private purse and must be redeemed and returned; besides, I must pay $12 to the photographer for the 200 photos delivered to me, and $4 more to the blacksmith's representative for shoeing the donkey. "I will lend you all the money you want," said the president of one of my clubs ; and my "friend's" ears and eyes were directed upon me. "I cannot beg, borrow, or accept gratuities," I ex- claimed, firmly; "I propose to fulfill the terms of my wager to the letter, and when I accomplish it, be able to make a sworn statement to that effect." Just then I heard a newsboy calling, "EXTRA ALL ABOUT THE GREAT DONKEY RIDE." At once I dispatched a friend with money to purchase 13 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK the papers, while I followed him to the hotel exit, where I stationed myself in full view of the crowd and drew from my pocket a blue lead pencil, ready for a new task. The papers secured and brought to me, I scribbled my name on them and offered them for a dime apiece. "I have no time to make change, so give me the amount you wish to pay," I said to the eager purchasers. In fif- teen minutes I had enough dimes and quarters and fifty- cent pieces to enable me to square my accounts and send for my donkey. In the course of a half hour, Macaroni was induced by sundry persuasions to invade the noisy precinct of Madi- son Square and come up to the hotel door; and, with a small surplus of cash in pocket, I bade my friends fare- well and got into the saddle. Amid a deafening "tiger" from the multitude, the "lion" of the hour majestically proceeded down Broad- way to Fourteenth Street ; and the most sensational parade New York had ever witnessed had begun. My lazy steed barely crawled ; he stopped every rod or two, and generally in front of a car or other vehicle. It was an event for the street gamins, and, had they not trailed close behind us through the city and given Mac occasional goads and twists of the tail, I doubt if I could have reached Harlem by midnight. It was a terrible ride, and I often have wondered since how I escaped with my neck. Passing down Fourteenth Street, we turned up Fifth Avenue, crossed Madison Square, paraded Madison Ave- nue to Thirty-third Street, turned to the left over to Fifth Avenue and passed the Waldorf-Astoria, followed Forty- second Street to the Boulevard, and up the avenue to Seventy-second Street, and then up West End Avenue, past my "friend's" residence. There I was stopped by a 14 MADISON SQUARE TO YONKERS member of the mounted police, and, to my surprise, was tendered a Loving-cup Reception by my "friend's" pretty daughter, who, with a number of our mutual friends, wel- comed me while her father was at his office expecting a telegram that Pye Pod had given up his trip. All drank to the pilgrim's progress. Wines, flowers and ice cream, tears, and best wishes, all contributed to the happy function, while out of doors, an incident happened that caused me to rush to my donkey's side. It seems that, in looking through his green glasses, he mistook the iron picket screen that guarded a young and hopeful shade tree for some kind of verdant fodder, and destroyed a couple of teeth. The incident threw a damper on the reception, so I made my adieux, and resumed my fated journey with a heart still hopeful, yet heavier than it ever felt before. It was 7 P. M. when Mac and I stopped at the Minot Hotel, Harlem, and registered for the night. Among my several callers that evening was a Professor of a Riding Academy who claimed to have ridden horseback from ocean to ocean a few years previous and within several feet of his death after losing several horses ; and he de- scribed to me the perils of my prospective trip, the bound- less, waterless deserts and snow-covered mountains, the tornadoes and tarantulas, and the untamed Indians, and ferocious prairie dogs, and begged me to give up the journey. Dear old Professor, how often on that voyage on the hurricane deck of my donkey, did I indulge in grievous meditation on the wisdom of your advice ! I simply thanked the gentleman for his tender concern about my welfare, and sold him a chromo for a quarter. After a bath, I enjoyed a delicate sleep, and next day set out in a dripping rain for Yonkers, over twenty miles away, with less than a dollar in pocket. I had only sold enough pictures on the way to Harlem to defray my hotel ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK bill, as a stringent city ordinance prohibited it without a license, and I had difficulty in avoiding the vigilant police. But, although fortune and the weather frowned on me, I ground my teeth and headed for the Golden Gate. Trailing up Seventh Avenue, I gradually left the busy metropolis to my rear and entered a more open country. Some urchins of the suburbs tagged behind us meddle- somely, and finally a Dutch vixen hit Macaroni with a po- tato, almost causing me to leave the saddle. That para- dox of asininity chased the potato, and ate it. He, doubt- lessly, feared lest the missile might strike him again, and decided it best to put it out of the way. At 2 P. M. I had crossed McComb's Dam Bridge, and at five I crossed another of the same description. It was low and narrow, and Mac was so afraid of the water that I had to blindfold him to get him across. Shortly after occurred our first disaster. On nearing a little hamlet that had reached the horse- car stage of progress a counterfeit breeze sprang up which soon developed into a howling hurricane, as a huge beer wagon filled with dragons, or flagons of vile spirits wheeled down upon us. They wanted to scare the jack- ass, and they did. The wagon wheels got into the car tracks, and when the wagon turned out for us the wheels slid, and hit my partner in the vicinity of his tail, sprinkling us broadcast over a quarter acre of ground. I carried out a friend's prediction by traveling some distance on my face; I say this without vanity. When I sat upright, I saw Macaroni still turning headsprings. My repeating rifle stuck in the soft earth erect, dressed in my long-tail coat and plug hat, a veritable scarecrow, while the soil was well sown with rifle cartridges. It took us a half hour to get again under way. With a 16 MADISON SQUARE TO YONKERS degree of patience that would have overtaxed Job him- self, I collected my belongings, dragged my beast of bur- den to Yonkers, and anchored him in front of a hotel. It was only eight ; I had thought it nearly morning. The genial landlord received me kindly, but said I had arrived at a bad season. The town was financially dead, the factories had shut down, and a thousand stomachs were empty. I corrected him ; there were a thousand and one, and, ascertaining the shortest route to the dining- room, I gave him proof that I was right. After supper I felt in good spirits. I had sold sufficient chromos on the way from Harlem to land here with five dollars in pocket, and soon after my arrival, one man bought all the pictures I had left, seven of them, for which he paid two dollars. So, although weary in body, I re- tired that Saturday night with some sense of relief in knowing I possessed the funds to keep myself and part- ner over the Sabbath. A general inspection of my donkey next morning re- vealed the fact that he was badly "stove up," and the probability that I would be detained in consequence sev- eral days. If I ever had the blues, I had them then. A veterinary, Dr. Skitt, was summoned; he bandaged two legs, covered twenty square inches of donkey with court- plaster, and strapped a new boot on the animal's off fore leg. On returning to the hotel, I notified the landlord that I should be his guest very likely several days on account of my steed's crippled condition ; I said I proposed to give a lecture Tuesday evening to defray my extra expense, and asked him if I could have the dining room for the purpose. "Can you fill the hall ?" asked the proprietor. "Full as a kit of mackerel." 17 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK "But I have only a hundred chairs," he apologized. "Hire two hundred of an undertaker," I suggested, "and I will defray all other expenses of the funeral." It was a go. I then worded a handbill and hurried with it to a printer. 18 CHAPTER II. I sow all sorts of seeds, and get no great harvest from any of them. I'm cursed with susceptibility in every direction, and effective faculty in none. Mill on the Floss. A shower of paper flakes fell upon the amazed citizens of Yonkers like an unseasonable snow-storm, and every flake contained the announcement : TO-NIGHT! TO-NIGHT! TO-NIGHT! G- HOUSE DINING-HALL Only chance to hear The Greatest of Modern Travelers PYTHAGORAS POD Who left New York without a dollar, to eat his way to San Francisco, within one year, WILL RELATE 100 HAIR-BREADTH ESCAPES Lassoing elephants in India ; hunting chamois with sling-shots in the Alps ; perils of an ostrich ride through the great African great jaroo nop across Australia in/' HOP ON RECOJ desert; and a kangaroo hop across Australia THE BIGGEST ~ORD. Gleanings from the Press. "His stories will make a hyena laugh." New York Bombast. " Pye Pod is nothing more than a cake of sugar boiled down from the syrup of Lawrence Stearne, Dean Swift, Cervantes, Artemus Ward, and Josh Billings. Chicago Tornado. EVERY MAN AND WOMAN who has Thirty cents to throw away, should put one in a Yonkers Bank and Twenty-nine in the pocket of the donkey traveler. TICKETS, $0.29. TICKETS, TWENTY-NINE CENTS YONKBRS APPEAL POWER PRINT 19 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK Even Macaroni lent a hoof, and was led by a boy through the streets, bearing a pasteboard sandwich which reached from ears to tail. The residents of Mistletoe Avenue gazed at the ridiculous spectacle, indignantly at first ; but on the return trip they crowded in open door-ways and regarded the procession of beast and tagging boys, as much as to say, "We must go and hear the donkey lec- ture." Macaroni had quite recovered; his exercise did him good. My lecture promised to be a huge success. The Tuesday Morning Squib and the Evening Sunrise con- tained alluring advertisements of the event sure to punc- ture an epoch in my life. When the hour arrived, the populace, I was secretly informed, with twenty-nine cents in one hand and their lives in the other crowded about the hotel and called loudly for admittance. My hands trembled, my hair throbbed, and my heart leaped in the ecstacy that comes with one's first great tri- umph, while I stood in the butler's pantry waiting for a friend to introduce me to bid me enter the stage the first stage of lunacy. When I issued forth, I was so ex- cited I could not distinguish the audience from so many chairs. Having agreed to divide the receipts with my host for the use of his house, my visions of wealth got con- fused with my words, and I talked for an hour with all the eloquence and enthusiasm I could muster, though I should have said less to a smaller house, and with a sore throat retired to the refreshment room, followed by my press agent from Brooklyn. The "Doctor" handed me just twenty-nine cents. My audience had consisted of three persons : the landlord, the head-waiter, and the Dago printer whom I owed three dollars. Reverses are like children's diseases. If they come too 20 DONKEY'S MANY AILMENTS. late in life, they go hard with us ; and if too early, they may visit us again. I was not totally bankrupt. Not willing to begin a "three ball" business at the very outset, I resolved to rise at dawn and sell enough chromos to that unappreciative community to pay my bills, if I had to sell them at cost. I set to work. By one o'clock I had visited every shop, store and Chinese laundry, and was talking hoarsely to a corner grocer who, seated on a keg of mackerel, sampling lim- burger cheese, grinned with satisfaction at his fortified po- sition and swore like a skipper. I offered a picture for fifteen cents, but the reduction in price did not disturb his physical equilibrium. "I vant not a peakture at any price," he affirmed. "I lack fifteen cents of the amount of my hotel bill," I urged ; "I am in dire straits." His reply was weak, but the cheese was strong enough to help him out. My mental magazine had but a single charge left, and I fired it. "Isn't it worth fifteen cents to know a fool when you see one ?" "Ye-e-es, I dink it ess," answered Sweitzer Edam, "and eef you vill write it on the peakture I'll buy it." I made the sale. Then after calling on the Mayor, who received me cor- dially, swapped autographs, and asked to see my partner, I saddled my animal and led him to the hotel for my traps. "You aren't going before dinner?" the proprietor asked; "it's ready now." "I'm flat broke can't afford to eat," I returned sadly. "Then come in and have a meal on me," said he. "A man who has worked as you have to square with his land- lord shan't leave my hotel hungry." I yielded. My trip to Tarrytown was accomplished on my own 21 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK legs. Macaroni refused to budge unless somebody led him. The whole town turned out to see us ; it was an event for the hotel. That evening I was asked to McCarty's Show, at the Theatre, paying thirty-five cents admission ; I learned that the "Dutch treat" was in vogue when too late for my pride to let me decline the invitation. Next day, at noon, I set out for Sing Sing, now called Ossining, about seven miles away. My steed, that was really not half a steed, seemed to be gradually recovering from the doubt that an endless journey had been mapped out for him, and kept me watch- ing and prodding him constantly. On one occasion he drove through a gap in a fence; on another, he scraped through a hedge and relieved himself of my Winchester, coat and saddle-bags, for which he immediately expressed regret. At length, he balked ; and I sat down by the road- side a half hour before he showed readiness to go. While there meditating upon my trials, a pedestrian stopped and listened to my sixteen complaints. He seemed much amused, and suggested that if I would hang a penny before the donkey's nose he might follow the cent. A practical idea at once came to mind, and when, soon afterward, we reached a farm house, I put my idea to the test. I purchased some apples, and suspended one from a bough secured to the saddle and reaching over the donkey's head. The scheme worked admirably. Mac pursued the bobbing, swinging fruit at such a speed that he was nearly winded when we reached town, having manipulated his short legs to the velocity of two and one- third miles an hour. We reached town shortly after five. The village is nicely situated high on the banks of the Hudson, and some of its residents have a beautiful view of the river, while others see nothing more picturesque than a stone wall. 22 DONKEY'S MANY AILMENTS. Sing Sing, to use the more familiar name, is the seat of an extensive prison, patronized by sojourners from all parts of the world and heavily endowed, being backed by the wealth of the State. A local organization, the Sing Sing Steamer Company, invited me to its monthly dinner that evening, and, to my surprise and gratitude, purchased with a sealed envelope one of "our" pictures for the club rooms. I don't think it a good custom to buy a pig in a poke, but this time the pig was fat and healthy, and I found myself several dollars richer. Next morning I bought a revolver, for, as I had to em- ploy the larger part of the day in making sales and work- ing my wits in a multitude of ways to keep my ship from stranding and the crew from starving, I was often compelled to travel long into the night and required some more handy weapon than a rifle for defence against pirates. The newspapers generally heralded my coming, often greatly magnifying my successes, and I felt that the hard times, which the country at large was suffering, made such a thing as a hold-up not only possible but imminent any night. Having received an invitation to visit the State Prison, I set out in the forenoon to find it, and a policeman (a very proper person, by the way), guided me to that fa- mous hostelry. Macaroni also was invited, but the af- frighted animal declined to enter the prison gates. Whether he thought he saw a drove of zebras, or was re- pelled by a guilty conscience, I know not, but, falling back in a sitting posture, he threw his ears forward and brayed loudly. On entering the office, the secretary rose from his chair and seized me. "Professor," he said, "you are my pris- 23 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK oner for an hour.; come this way and I will present you to the warden." We left the room and walked over to that official's desk. "Mr. Warden," said the secretary, "Allow me to intro- duce Professor Pythagoras Pod, the illustrious donkey- traveler, who is eating his way across the continent." "Show the gentleman to the dining-room, and give him a plate of soup," said the warden hospitably ; then, squeez- ing my ringers, he waived me to the chief keeper of the prison. The warden noted my hesitancy in leaving, and asked if there was anything in particular he could do for me. "Will you allow me to sit in the electric chair?" I asked. "Ye-e-es," he replied politely, but apparently startled, "although I consider you are already having capital pun- ishment for your asinine undertaking;" and turning to the keeper, he said, "Give him fifty thousand volts ; noth- ing less will phase a man of his nerve." I thanked him. With faltering step I entered the solemncholy chamber. A colored prisoner was to follow me a day later. Little he knew that he would sit in the same chair Pod sat in the previous day. The keeper said everything was in readi- ness for turning on the current that has the power to drift a soul from this world to another in the twinkling of an eye. The battery had been thoroughly tested, and detested, too. In less than thirty seconds from the time an ordi- nary prisoner enters a door of this world he enters the door of another ; but, Pod, being a man of extraordinary nerve, walked out the door he entered. When I climbed into that terrible chair, I held my breath. The keeper said it re- quired only a certain number of volts to kill a man ; that fifty thousand, such as the warden had suggested for my pleasure, would not so much as singe a hair of my head. 24 DONKEY'S MANY AILMENTS. If I survived the first shock, I would have something to boast ; as it would be abusing a confidence to describe the sensations of electrocution, I must not do so. On returning to the office the warden congratulated me, and said I had earned my freedom. He even presented me a plaster of Paris ornament, made by a prisoner who had never seen Paris, and a package of prison-made tobacco, which I might chew, or eschew, as I liked. While I appreciated these gifts, how much more I should have valued a battery of electrical currents to administer to my donkey. Crowds assembled to view our exit from town at two o'clock. We reached Croton, some six miles beyond, about dusk. As we approached the bridge crossing of the Croton River, I saw a duck and thought I would test my marksmanship with a revolver. My drowsy steed had nearly reached the center of the bridge when I banged at the innocent hell-diver. A compound disaster followed the shot as the frightened jackass shied to the left and dashed through the iron frame-work, tail over ears into the river, scraping me out of the saddle, but dropping me, fortunately, on the bridge. I managed, however, to get the duck; the donk got the ducking. It was a marvel that he didn't drown ; from the way he brayed, I judged he was of the same opinion. Long after dark we arrived in Peekskill. Throughout the day the weather was threatening, and I tramped the last three miles in the rain. I had donned my mackintosh and slung my overcoat across the saddle, and was pacing ahead of Mac, with reins in hand, coaxing the stubborn beast on, when suddenly he jumped. I turned just in time to discover in the darkness two men, one of whom was suspiciously near to the donkey. I told them civilly to walk ahead, as they excited my animal. 25 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK "That's none of our business," one of them remarked ; "we'll walk where we d d please." "Not this time," I said, as I got the drop on them with my new shooting-iron; and I marched the ruffians into town. The sneaks probably wanted my overcoat. Before we were fairly in town I dismissed them, and advised them thereafter to cultivate civility toward travelers. It was Friday night. I called upon the Mayor, and en- gaged the Town Hall for a lecture, resolved to try my luck again in that line. Alas ! my second reverse ! This time it was a too impromptu affair. Sunday I rested, but Monday, when everything augured bright for the week, I was shocked to find Macaroni ill. At once I summoned a doctor, a dentist, and a veterinary surgeon for a consultation, and breathlessly awaited the verdict. "Your jackass has a complication of diseases," said the vet ; "among them influenza, bots, and hives." "He has the measles," pronounced the doctor. "He is teething," insisted the dentist. This was too much ; with a troubled brow and an empty stomach I went to breakfast, and left the doctors to fight it out. 26 CHAPTER III. Little drops of water, Little grains of dirt, Make the roads so muddy Donk won't take a spurt. Dogeared Doggerels Pod. Never before had I encountered such a disagreeable road. While I tramped over the highlands from Peeks- kill to Fishkill Landing, Macaroni barely crawled. He kept me constantly in the fear that he would lie down and roll, and finally he did so, selecting a mud puddle. I was told donkeys fairly dote on dust, and that a roll will in- vigorate them more than will a measure of grain. But mine was different to other donkeys. Before leaving Peekskill, Dr. Shook said Mac showed symptoms of mud fever, although the tendency lay strongly toward phlebitus, farcy, and poll-evil. He even warned me that I might expect epizootic to set in any day. To urge Mac on to Newburgh in one day necessitated my start, at day-break. We reached the Fishkill ferry at half-past eight, covering the twenty-mile journey in fif- teen hours. The highland road was rough where the mud had dried. Steep and rocky summits stood out, bold and barren, save where occasional bunches of young cedars huddled among the denuded trees. Finally I saw a small structure, through whose open windows could be heard a chorus of youthful voices in- toning. "The dog caught the pig by the yer." It was a school house. I remembered that song of my 27 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK boyhood; I thought it would be interesting to drop in, and forthwith rapped on the door. Meanwhile, Mac stuck his head in the window, causing a deafening chime of cries within. A painful silence followed. I waited pa- tiently for admittance; then I opened the door. The room was deserted, the exit at the opposite end wide open, I crossed the floor and looked out to discover the teacher and two dozen young ones scurrying up the mountain through the scant woods. I called to them, but they ran the faster. Wonder what they thought they saw ? With every mile's advance we penetrated more deeply the mountain wilderness. Before long Macaroni began to slow up. Again I had recourse to the scheme of sus- pending an apple over his head. The beast increased his speed at once, making a lunge at the unobtainable, and chasing it with rapid stride. He evidently had never read the story about the boy who pursued a rainbow, and un- like that boy, was stupid enough to be fooled twice. A few miles beyond I answered some inquiries of a woman out driving, and sold her a photo. I had no sooner stopped with the article in hand than I was startled with the sound of gagging behind, and turning, I beheld the donkey wrenching in the throes of strangulation. Hav- ing lowered the apple to the ground, he had swallowed it, together with the string and half the bough. I with- drew the "intrusions" with difficulty, and returned to the woman who had fainted. I had no restoratives ; but I had once resuscitated a Jew with a novel expedient, and de- termined to try the same plan in this case. "These pictures are fifteen cents each, although I some- times get twenty-five for one," I said somewhat forcibly ; "don't trouble yourself, madam, trust me with your pocket-book, I will ." At once the woman awoke, and counting out the lesser amount mentioned, pulled on the 28 POLISHING SHOES AT VASSAR. reins and drove away. Let me grasp the hand of that man who can beat a woman at a bargain ! When passing through Cold Spring, I was startled by the booming of cannon at West Point, just across the river. I had not expected such honors. So overawed was I by the salute that I forgot to count the guns, but presume there were twenty-one. Far above and behind the group of academic buildings still frowned old Fort Putnam, deploring its shameful neglect, and casting envious glances at the modern Observatory below and the newer buildings lower down. Every mile of the beautiful Hudson recalled to mind happy memories of my own school days, which made my present ordeal doubly dis- tressing. When night lowered her sombre shades, my thoughts took flight to more distant scenes. My heart and brain grew weary, and I forgot for a time that my bones were lame and my feet sore from walking, walking, walking on an endless journey, with no perceptible evidence of ap- proaching nearer to the goal. At length, the Albany night boat steamed past us, its myriad lights dancing on the ruffled waters, or revealing a jolly group of passen- gers on deck. The air was painfully quiet ; and when the song, "Oh, Where is My Wandering Boy To-night," floated over to me in answer to Macaroni's bray, I found consolation in the thought that perhaps some of the tour- ists recognized my outfit in the dark, and pitied me. I had by this time discovered mountain climbing to be a donkey's leading card. He may loiter on the flat, but he will make you hump when it comes to steep ascents. The night was mild for that season of the year, and be- coming considerably heated, I doffed my overcoat and spread it over the saddle on my mackintosh. When we were descending the hill on the other side, I dismounted 29 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK and led Mac with the bridle reins, but kept a good watch on the coats. After a while, however, I became so ab- sorbed in thought that I neglected my duty, and, finally, when I did turn to inspect them they were missing. It gave me the worst fright I had experienced since leaving New York. Staking Mac to a gooseberry bush, I immediately re- traced my steps a mile or more through an Egyptian dark- ness before I found the garments lying securely in the mud. On my return to the bush I was alarmed not to find the donkey. That "phenomenon" had eaten that prickly shrub to the roots and fled either down the road to Fishkill or through the woods. I started out for town on a run. Imagine my astonishment to find Mac patiently standing in front of the ferry. The boat had landed her passengers ; and had the donkey not taken the precaution to anticipate me, we should have had to remain on that side of the river for the night. As it was, the ferry waited for Mac's rider thanks to the considerate pilot. Newburgh ! I recognized her by her streets at an angle of 45 degrees. Mac took to the place hugely. I stopped at a small combination hotel and restaurant, where roast turkey and pumpkin pie decorated the windows, and made arrangements for the night. When about to leave, I was visited by a delegation from the local militia who, for a fair consideration, induced us both to remain over and referee a game of basket ball that evening at the armory. Mac did not accept very gracefully, and had to be coerced. What I knew about the game wouldn't tax a baby's mind, but that didn't mat- ter. It proved to be an event for the regiment, for Pod, and for Macaroni. Next day I found my donkey's maladies increasing. They had already tripled in number since leaving Peeks- 30 POLISHING SHOES AT VASSAR. kill; and, to think, I had arrived at Newburg just two days too late to secure a sound animal. I pushed on to Poughkeepsie. Upon arriving at that university city I was pleased to find the inhabitants not quite so slow as the appearance of the place would indicate. The city has of late years become the Henley of America. It is the seat of East- man's business college, as well as a very progressive col- lege for girls Vassar. The residents generally drop three letters in spelling the name of their proud city, and make it Po'keepsie. There were four good points I liked about the place, and that was one of them ; the other three were, the Mayor, the Vassar girls, and a newspaper re- porter who, for a consideration, engaged Mac and me to appear at the theatre in an amateur play. It was to be a new stage in our travels. The urchin who led the donkey about the streets proudly bore in one hand a standard inscribed: "KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE DONKEY ;" and those who obeyed saw printed on a canvas blanket gracefully draped over Mac's back the startling announcement : "WILL APPEAR TO-NIGHT IN HOGAN'S ALLEY, AT KIRCHNER'S HALL." I believe Mac paraded the city utterly oblivious of the interest he created. I had promised to have my donkey at the Hall at five sharp. There were two staircases for him to climb, and I had not contemplated the enormity of the task before me. We tugged on his halter ; we set three dogs barking at his heels ; but the only time he stirred was when he re- moved the dogs. He just braced himself well against the curb, and brayed until he had called the audience to the show two hours ahead of time. After a while two strong policemen took a hand with me in a three-handed game, and turned over a jack. Finally, four more men assisting, ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK the beast was carried upstairs and into the theatre, where he was forced to walk a plank on to the stage. Then I fed and watered him, and combing his fur the right way, left him to the melancholy contemplation of his position. When we returned an hour later, he was still as im- movable as a statue. The stage manager directed me to ride the donkey out from behind the scenery at a given signal ; so I began to practice with him. I cannot describe all that happened the next hour. By seven o'clock Mac was fairly broken, and everything looked promising. The house was crowded ; only a portion of the attend- ance of the fair held in connection with the play, down stairs, could find seats; and the performance was to be repeated. One part of the play, however, not on the pro- gram, could not be reproduced. Apparently no attempts had ever been made to convert Mac to religion, for when the Salvation Army entered the scene, banging drums and clashing cymbals, the terrified jack began to back toward the footlights. The stage manager, fearing lest the beast might back off the stage, dropped the curtain. But that didn't check Mac ; he backed against the curtain and un- der it, and dropped plumb into the audience, making five "laps" in a second, his best time to date. One fat man, over-burdened, crashed through his chair. Fortunately nobody was seriously injured, but several had spasms, and more than one girl crawled over the backs of the seats in terror. "Such doings," as a paper stated next day, "were never known before in this town in the annals of donkeys four-legged or two-legged either." As soon as the exqitement was over, Mac was assisted on to the stage, and the play was twice repeated, all three performances before crowded houses. While returning Mac to his stable I heard the bray of a donkey, and resolved next day to look him up. Then I 32 POLISHING SHOES AT VASSAR. sent a message to a young lady friend at Vassar, and wrote my weekly story for the papers. I frequently refer to my Vassar friends, but I doubt if they ever mention me. I had written one that I would polish two dozen pairs of Vassar shoes at the rate of fifty cents a pair, either on, or off. Allowing me two minutes for each pair and half a minute for making change, I be- lieved I could polish to the queen's taste some forty-eight pairs in two hours. My proposal was accepted. The hour set was 5 :oo A. M., while the teachers would be dreaming about the binomial formula, blue light, and turnips. And I was expected to polish the shoes on the foot. Accordingly, I was aroused from slumber at four, and practiced on the stove legs for a full half-hour, to get polishing down to a science. Then I took the trolley car to the hedge fence, stole in through the stately gate, and took the time of the huge clock above the entrance. Then I took my own time. I had four minutes to spare, and knew Vassar girls were anything but slow. "The days of chivalry are not gone," says George Eliot, "notwithstanding Burke's grand dirge over them; they live still in that far-off worship paid by many a youth and man to the woman of whom he never dreams that he shall touch so much as her little finger or the hem of her robe." I had no sooner placed my chair at the right marble staircase than I heard the rustle of skirts, imme- diately followed by a bevy of charming girls stealing down the steps on tip-toe, all a-giggle and a-smile, bal- ancing their supple forms with outstretched arms, and enlivening the early dawn with the mischief beaming from their eyes. "Good morning," they said, as each in turn shook hands with me. I was inspired to hug every one of them, but dared not show the lack of polish. 33 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK Raising my hat, I said softly, "Shine," and number one mounted the throne, soon to be "daubed" a queen. Bless me ! wasn't she pretty ! As she gaily lifted her skirts to give my brushes a free swing, a perfect pair of ankles burst into view, daintily imprisoned in black silk hose, and well, I naturally was excited. Blacking flew like the mud did when the beer wagon bumped against Mac, and a brush flopped out of my hand through a colored window, letting in more light, for it was still quite dusky. It seemed to be impossible for the young lady to keep her feet in place on the block, and not until she suggested I should hold her boot in place did I begin to polish to my credit. After that no girl could keep her feet stationary unless I held her foot with one hand and polished with the other. "Next," and another winsome creature took the chair, and poured fifty pennies into my hand. I took it for granted that she was some copper king's daughter. I worked so hard that I was soon perspiring. After finishing a dozen pair, when about to polish the second shoe on number thirteen, someone claimed she heard a professor reading Volapuk. At once there was a scurry, and a rustle of skirts. Number thirteen kicked over the blacking accidental, and fled with one shoe unpolished ; but that odd shoe did just as good service as any of the rest. The whole bevy of girls vanished before I had time to collect my senses, my chair, and my brushes, and chase myself away. When once started, I ran to beat the cars, and reached the hotel in time for breakfast, the richer by six dollars and a lace handkerchief. Come to think of it, what an extr'ordinary adventure that was for a modest and dignified traveler with a donkey! I wondered, as I sipped my coffee, what the Principal said when she discovered so many neat-looking shoes. 34 CHAPTER IV. Shame on the world ! said I to myself. Did we but love each other as this poor soul loved his ass, 'twould be something. Sentimental Journey Stearne. An empty heart is like an empty barrel conveniently located ; nobody will dare to gamble on the first thing to be thrown into it : and a full heart, like a barrel of fruit, must be sorted frequently, lest a bit of blemish corrupt the whole. My heart was as full of Macaroni from New York to Po'keepsie as my stomach once had been from Milan to Naples. I first fancied my donkey, next admired him, suddenly became conscious of a growing contempt for him, and finally pity, now that the time for parting with him had come. Having depended entirely upon the stupid beast for companionship, he really had become a pet. Often he had offended and vexed me beyond seeming pardon ; on the other hand, he had afforded me amusement during my lonesome hours, often causing me to laugh out- right at his antics. But, in order to complete my journey on time, I felt I must avail myself of the first opportun- ity to exchange him for a livelier steed. It was my Vassar friend who told me about Dr. Jackson and his precocious donkey ; she claimed the animal often displayed human intelligence. With some difficulty I found the doctor's residence; when, introducing myself and acquainting him with my errand, he put on his hat and took me to the barn. Be- 35 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK hold ! the cutest little donkey I ever saw. He was a sleek, slender creature of blush color, with an intelligent but roguish countenance, and with cropped ears which gave him a semblance to a deer. The doctor said the animal was hardly three years old. His hoofs were very small, so tiny that he might have stepped into an after-dinner cup and not damaged more than your appetite for coffee. "What do you call the little fellow?" I asked. "Mac A'Rony," said the doctor. The coincidence made me smile. "That, too, is my donkey's name," I declared, somewhat to his astonish- ment. He then spelled his animal's name, showing that there was as much difference between the names as be- tween the donkeys, between patrician and plebeian. He said that Mac A'Rony was the lineal descendant of an ancient and honorable family of Irish asses; whereas, I believed Macaroni could boast of no more distinguished heritage than that of Italian peasantry. The doctor even harbored, the suspicion that his donkey must be a descend- ant of Balaam's famous ass. "His bluish coat is a reflection of the blue blood in his veins," observed the doctor; and I was made to feel of the same opinion. I coveted that donkey, but had little hope of securing it, as my means were so limited. Imagine my astonishment" when the doctor proposed that we make an even ex- change of animals. "If your overland journey continues to be as notable as it is thus far," said he, "I should like to possess the first donkey you used." I dared not believe my ears. "But you have not seen my donkey," I reminded him. "I will accept your representation of the animal," he replied. The bargain made, we parted. An hour later 36 AN EVEN TRADE NO ROBBERY Macaroni was in the doctor's barn, and Mac A'Rony in the livery stable. The greatest objection I had to my new companion was his youth. The fastidious appetite of this Irish gentleman demanded bread, and other table fare ; he actually stuck up his nose at oats and hay. What would he do should we get stranded! I might live a whole day on three milk punches which I could pay for with photos, but experience had taught me it required many punches to keep a donkey moving. When about to depart, I was disconcerted to discover the doctor's boy riding his new possession down the street toward the hotel. Macaroni seemed to realize we were to part forever. There was a sad, depressed look in his eyes ; his brows knitted, and his nose wept, as he brayed "When shall we three meet again." I felt a pang in my heart, and turning my eyes from him, headed Mac A'Rony for the West. Shortly afterward, I was stopped by a blacksmith who recognized Mac and asked to shoe him, saying he would do it for a picture, seeing it was I. Of course, I was de- lighted, and leaving the donkey in his custody, dropped in a restaurant and lunched; after which I bought Mac a loaf of graham bread. The kind-hearted blacksmith had several horses wait- ing to be shod, and it was nearly night when Mac A'Rony ceased to be a "bare-foot boy." I remained in Po'keepsie over night, and early next day, Friday, set out for Kings- ton. But that quadruped traveled so fast that he tired out after going a few miles, and I had to put up at a little inn at Staatsburg for the night. Had it not been that I sold next day a number of photos at princely villas on the way, I should have had trouble to keep from starving. No re- mittance had come from the papers as yet, and lecturing was out of the question at that time. I had written to 37 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK several soap, sarsaparilla, tobacco and pill companies for a contract to advertise their stuffs by distributing cir- culars, or samples, or displaying a sign from my donkey's back, but thus far had received no favorable replies. At length the blue summits of the Catskills loomed against an azure sky in the west, and I caught occasional glimpses of Kingston and Rondout, the twin cities, nest- ling in the foothills by the Hudson. At three o'clock we crossed the ferry, and soon after- ward arrived at the Mansion House, Kingston. The landlord received us with gracious hospitality, but I, hav- ing lost so much time by accident and other misfortune, only tarried for the night, and hastened on up the valley. The days were perceptibly shorter while we traveled in the shadow of the Catskills. The roads were so heavy, and the recent cold I had contracted so stiff and uncom- fortable, that I decided at seven o'clock to spend the night at a German road-house. Landlord Schoentag gave us soft beds, in spite of his hard name, and his spouse was kind enough to make me a hot brandy and a foot bath. I drank the one; Mac cheated me of the other. I retired early under a pile of bedding as thick as it was short, and soon found myself in a terrible sweat. This was not due alone to the comfortables, but to a party of convivial young people, who thrummed on a discordant piano, and sang, and danced till daylight, their hilarity causing Mac in the stable sundry vocal selections, such as should have disturbed the spirit of Rip Van Winkle, eight miles away. Monday we pushed on toward Saugerties. But for a delay at Soaper's Creek Bridge, we should have reached Catskill before dark. MacA'Rony stopped stock still at the bridge approach, and neither the eloquence of gad nor gab moved him an inch. I petted him and patted him; 38 AN EVEN TRADE NO ROBBERY I stroked his ears and I rubbed his nose ; and then I asked him point blank what ailed him. "You big fool, can't you see that sign up there?" he retorted, as he eyed me squarely. It was fully sixty sec- onds before I realized that the animal had actually spoken ; then I looked up and read the sign hanging from the iron girder overhead, "Ten dollars fine for riding or driving over this bridge faster than a walk." I must say I greatly appreciated Mac's consideration for my pocket-book, but his obduracy struck me as being not a little absurd, since he had not yet demonstrated to me that he could go faster than a walk, even on a level and unimpeded road. All I could do was to sit down on a stone and, like Macawber, wait for something to turn up. It seemed ages before a farmer came along with a ton of hay ; he was kind enough to slide off the load and assist me to carry the donkey across the bridge. The night was spent in Catskill. Smith's Hotel was swarming with busy grangers, generally good-hearted, garrulous characters, whose society lightened the tedium of two days, while I nursed my cold and weaned Mac. We reached Athens, a village eight miles to the north, Wednesday noon, but being somewhat rusty in Greek, I ferried the river to Hudson. A light snow had fallen ; the wind was sharp shod, and traveled forty miles an hour. A small German hotel opened its doors to us, and I per- suaded Mac to ascend the low stoop and venture half his length indoors; the landlord aided me at the helm and we managed to anchor my "craft" out of range of the storm, though we couldn't get it across the bar. Mac lay down in a heap, and I called for port, to find none in stock. Suddenly, a man in shirt sleeves hastily entered with a pitcher in hand, and before he could check himself, went sprawling over the frightened beast, smashing the pitcher 39 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK and setting Mac, to braying. The man hurriedly collected himself, glanced at the strange-looking quadruped, and not stopping for beer, fled in dismay. When the storm had abated somewhat, we started for Kinderhook. Late in the afternoon we trailed into a thrifty little town where I found stock port in Stockport. Here the cheery aspect of the Brookside Hotel tempted me to re- main over night, and doctor the severe cold in my chest. This tavern, the pride of the village, was said to be the oldest on the old "post road" from New York to Albany. So comfortable was the hotel that I hesitated long before accepting a cordial invitation, extended to me through his coachman, to be the guest of the wealthiest resident of the town. I was driven over to the home of Mr. Van , and the affable gentleman introduced me to his family, before driving me to his father's residence. The old gentleman was enthusiastic in his reception of the donkey traveler, and after doping me with some delicious cider, reluctantly allowed his son to keep me for the night. After a month of "roughing it," my happy affiliation with those refined and cultured people acted like a healing balm to my wearied heart. Many and many a time there- after on the tiresome, lonesome trail did my memory re- call that pleasant evening. The daughters entertained me with music and song, the parents brought out refresh- ments, and, at last, with a hot foot-bath, and a hotter mus- tard leaf on my chest, I retired. Next morning, Georgie, the little son, rushed into my chamber calling, "Get up, you people, the pancakes are getting cold!" "All right," I answered meekly. "Oh !" the little fellow gasped with astonishment, as he beheld Pod tucked neck-deep in eider-down. "I I I thought you was the girls." 40 "We consumed a half hour in the gigantic task." "I found the captive drinking with other jackasses.' AN EVEN TRADE NO ROBBERY The boy had retired early the evening before, quite ig- norant of the fact that the eccentric traveler was delegated to snooze in his sisters' bedroom. Through the happy agency of conversation Mr. Van and I discovered a mutual friendship. The family, somewhat to my embarrassment, insisted upon purchasing pictures galore, and after breakfast and a little music in the glow of a blazing fireplace, I donned my overcoat and made my adieux. How chill and heartless that December morning was! The wind blew my plug hat off to begin with, and, as I was driven to the Brookside Inn, had the courage to try to freeze my face. A half hour later Mac and Pod were marching to Kinderhook. CHAPTER V. Of all conceivable journeys, this promised to be the most tedious. I tried to tell myself it was a lovely day; I tried to charm my foreboding spirit with to- bacco; but I had a vision ever present to me of the long, long roads, up hill and down dale, and a pair of figures ever infinitesimally moving, foot by foot, a yard to the minute, and, like things enchanted in a nightmare, approaching no nearer to the goal. Travels with a Donkey R. L. Stevenson. Kinderhook ! I promised myself to visit the seminary, so popular in the early '6o's, and commune with the spir- its of those charming old-fashioned girls of whom mother had often spoken. After dining at the Kinderhook Hotel, I looked it up, and found it to be then the village academy. The cold in my chest pained more than ever ; I began to fear pneumonia. The landlord's wife said she would be a mother to me. Whew ! If she made it as warm for her "old man" as she did for me, I pity and congratulate him in one breath. She prepared a mustard sitz-bath (my feet had suffered two already) powerful enough, she declared, to force cold-blisters on my hair; she slapped mustard leaves on my chest and back ; she gave me spirits of cam- phor for my lips, witch-hazel for my eyes, a pork bandage for my neck, and liberal doses of aconite, quinine, whis- key and rum. Then she innocently asked if I could think of any other place my cold, when fairly on the run, would be likely to settle. Being unable to answer, I called on a physician. 42 THE DONKEY ON SKATES "The landlady has fixed you up admirably," said he; "I cannot benefit you further, unless I advise you to shave off your hair when the blisters have settled on it, to pre- vent the cold's return." I expressed my gratitude for his kind assurances, and to my surprise, though he had an electric battery in his room, he refused to charge me. Without loss of time, I set out and walked two miles to the old homestead of President Martin Van Buren, that stood back from the road behind a group of ancient pines which sighed dolefully as I passed. The family living there received me kindly, and showed me the library, parlors and hall ; the old Dutch wall-paper, picturing ancient hunts, watch-towers, and pastoral scenes, recalled a pleasant sojourn in Holland. A Wag- oner family living in the next house asked me to dinner, and I "et" with them. "I once knew a Van Wagoner," I said ; "they were fine people." "Our family were originally of that name," Mr. Wag- oner replied. "They dropped the Van some time ago." Mac A'Rony said he had never heard of Vans being dropped from Wagoners, but had often seen wagoners dropped from vans. I next crossed the bridge spanning the creek just out of town, where, it is said, Washington Irving conceived the story of the headless horseman. President Van Buren gave a ball to some statesmen, and Irving was invited. Some wag among the guests rigged up a dummy on a horse, and let the animal loose to give the author a scare. Wash never lost an opportunity to make a good story, and he made use of the idea. Mary Ann and Lucretia Van Buren, two aged spinsters, were all who remained of the illustrious family. I called 43 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK on Mary Ann when Lucretia was absent, and won her favor so quickly that she presented me with a little oil painting which had been in the family over a hundred years. Close by stood the old brick house, formerly a fort, built with brick brought from Holland. One brick was carved "1623." I saw the house where General Burgoyne is said to have dined, after which I visited Van Buren's grave. We slept that night in North Chatham, traveling out of the direct route to give the weak-kneed donkey as level a road as possible. We had now been boon companions one week ; it seemed a month. Next day, we passed a rickety barn in which two horses were engaged at a huge tread- wheel, with the dual object of threshing corn-stalks and of keeping their ears warm. My ears were almost frozen; whereas Mac claimed his were as warm as toast. My comrade had the advantage over me in being able, as he expressed it, to wiggle his ears and keep the blood circulating. I stopped at a shanty near, and asked leave to warm myself, and begged a newspaper to put in my breast. A poverty-stricken but hospitable man welcomed me, and politely took my hat and stuck it on a pitcher of milk. The humble habitation contained two rooms, one store room, the other the living room. The latter was furnished with a square table, now set for the mid-day meal, two beds, a stove which was exerting every effort to boil some ancient pork and frozen cabbage to a state of "doneness," four chairs, and a wash-tub. The housewife was washing clothes while her "old man" acted as cook. A dog re- clined on the store-room floor watching a saw-horse. There was not such bric-a-brac visible; a five-year-old calendar and two or three unframed chromos hung on the 44 THE DONKEY ON SKATES walls, and when I arose to go I discovered behind me a cracked mirror and a comb that needed dentistry. I was surprised when the woman handed me the desired paper ; I should not have accused any of them of being able to read. "Wall, yer kin see haow all classes of folks lives eny haow," the matron observed, as she screwed her face out of shape in her anxiety to wring the last drop of suds out of a twisted garment. "Yes," I returned, rising and reaching for my hat, "but how my donkey and I can manage to live to reach 'Frisco interests me more." And politely declining a hunk of pork rind and black bread offered me for a pocket lunch, much to the gratification of the house cat, I sallied forth into the biting blast, knocked several icicles from Mac A'Rony's whiskers, and headed for the state capital. Further on we tarried a few moments to exchange a word or two with an inquisitive hayseed, who planted him- self in the road before us, and stretched forth a brawny hand for both of us to shake. "Yer th' feller what's goin' to Fran Sanfrisco, hain't yer ?" the old man questioned, bracing himself against the boisterous gale. "Yep," I replied laconically. And at once Mac, yield- ing to a mighty gust of wind, dashed past the animate ob- struction, dragging his master with him. "Whar be th' biggest crops this year?" he called after us; and Mac, assuming the question was put to him, shouted, "In ostriches. Some of them weigh several stone." As I looked back from the hill, I saw the statu- esque figure still gaping at us behind a long, frost-colored beard. The roads to fame and to the capitol are hilly. Fame seemed to be more easily reached in slippery weather than 45 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK the capitol in dry. Albany had just experienced a heavy rain, and the roads had frozen. We set out Monday morn- ing to pay our respects to the Governor, the Mayor and other shining lights. When half way up the ascent to the capitol, Mac A'Rony slipped off his feet and slid to the bottom of the hill. Of course, I stayed with him ; in a mo- ment we had won fame. The excited populace thronged about us, and the reporters hauled out their paper and pencils. One toboggan slide satisfied Mac, and I was compelled to return him to the stable and go alone. The Governor was in his chair of state when I arrived at the Executive Chamber. The rumor that the odd trav- eler, Pye Pod, was in the ante-chamber brought a smile to his lips, which he still wore when he rose to grasp my hand, relishing the humor which I had failed to taste. "Don't you find it pretty cold traveling these days ?" the Governor inquired, as he sat down to write in my auto- graph album. "Rather," said I. The Governor chuckled, wished me good luck on my journey and commended me for my pluck. Then I was ushered through the magnificent capitol. After lunching with an aunt, I visited the Mayor. He, like other notable men, received me graciously and wished me joy, prosperity and health. Tuesday I hustled early and late to earn a dollar above the expenses of my sojourn in the up-hill city. Wednesday morning I received a small check, the first remittance from the papers. It was only two days before Christmas. The Holiday season seemed to have absorbed all the money in circulation. The snow now lay six inches deep on the level ; it had snowed all night and was snowing still. I greatly needed a pair of felt boots with rubber overshoes, but couldn't afford the outlay. So I wrapped strips of 4 6 THE DONKEY ON SKATES gunnysacks round my shoes and trouser legs, bought a pair of earlaps, and saddling my donkey, started for Schenectady, seventeen miles away. People had cautioned me that donkeys were afraid of snow. I was most agreeably surprised to find Mac A'Rony an exception to the rule; but in another respect, he puzzled me very much. For five days he had not been known to drink, and I concluded that, like an orchid, he slaked his thirst by sucking the juice out of the atmos- phere. When I ushered him into the snow, he rubbed his nose in it, and tasted it to satisfy himself that it wasn't sugar, and then majestically waded through, as if it were so much dust. And so, with less than two dollars in pocket and some fifty photos in my saddle-bags, I urged my donkey through the blinding gale to a road-house, four miles out of Albany, where tethering him to a huge icicle under a low-roofed shed, I went into the tavern to toast my hands and feet, and to warm my inner self. A few moments later found us fighting the elements again. And though we stopped at fully a dozen houses on that day's journey, we reached Schenectady soon after dark, with my face black and blue from the snowballs Mac rolled with his hoofs and slung at me (he claimed, unin- tentionally). Both of us were in prime condition to ap- preciate a hot supper and a soft, warm bed. After seeing my comrade safely sheltered in the hotel barn and leaving instructions -with the stable-keeper to lock the door, I spent a pleasant hour with the other hotel guests, who gathered about to hear my story, and to give me all kinds of valuable and worthless advice on traveling with a donkey. What happened that night may be better understood by reading the following page from my diary : "It is midnight, halfway between Christmas eve and 47 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK Christmas morning. For the last three hours I have been looking all over town for Mac. I went to the stable at nine o'clock to fill his stockings, and lo ! he was missing. Where he can possibly be and how he got there is beyond my power of conception. I found the lock in the barn door unbroken, but scratched about the keyhole, as if it had been picked. The landlord and the stableman are of the opinion that Union College boys have stolen the donkey and hidden him, just for mischief. In my rambles I failed to detect a sign of any student. A squad of vol- unteers from among the hotel guests, armed to the teeth and carrying lanterns, were kind enough to go with me donkey hunting, but nothing more than a few ominous traces of Mac's stubborn resistance did we discover. A tuft of donkey hair and a gory human tooth were picked off the barn floor, and also, just outside, a section of the seat of a man's trousers, all of which indicates that the donkey is the unwilling prisoner of a band of wags. "Going down Fifth Street to Union, we detected Mac's little foot-prints and a college society pin. Just beyond, I found another lock of hair, this time human, indicating some football fiend had parted with a portion of his mane. A torn cravat, a finger of a kid glove, and a piece of hu- man flesh resembling part of a nose, were noted by differ- ent members of the posse. Thence on, we traced with much difficulty my donkey's hoof-marks a mile or more into the suburbs, where we lost them. It was then 1 1 130 P. M. A concensus of opinion resulted in the verdict that at that point the animal had been put in a sleigh and drawn to some hiding place and that further search that night was useless. I am now going to retire, and trust to luck for Mac A'Rony's safe return to-morrow." When I went to breakfast Christmas morning, I amused myself while my order was being filled by perusing the 4 8 THE DONKEY ON SKATES Schenectady "Daily Tantrims." You may imagine my astonishment upon reading the following: GRAND OPENING Of the Canal Skating Rink. Greatest Social Function of the Season. COLLEGE BOYS AND SOCIETY THERE. A Donkey on Skates. "Those who were not 'let in' to the private ball given at the new Canal Ice Rink on Christmas Eve by the Union boys who remained here over night to enjoy the Holi- days, missed a rare and novel entertainment. It proved to be a side-splitting as well as an ice-breaking affair. Carefully laid plans were successfully carried out, and the diminutive donkey belonging to the quixotic traveler, Prof. Pythagoras Pod, became the guest of honor at the first rink party of the season. The jackass seemed to rel- ish the sport immensely. Two pairs of skates were se- curely buckled on his feet and, declining the proffered as- sistance, at once the precocious tyro struck out in four several directions at once, coming down on the not over thick ice kothump! on his Antartic pole, deluging four propositions of Euclid, seven principles of unnatural phi- losophy, and three dozen young men and women. All would have gone well had the jack not been so con- ceited. He, just like an ass, thought he knew it all. If he ever cut any ice in his life he did it them. Being of a generous disposition, he made ample accommodations for a crowd who, like his asinine self, came out for a skate and were hardly prepared for a baptism. Pandemonium reigned. There were several narrow es- capes from drowning ; even Mac A'Rony barely averted a sublime decease, and bellowed like a freight engine. 49 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK However, as he was the only donkey of the whole party that piloted himself to terra firma without assistance, he deserves much more praise than the fools that were so un- warrantably thoughtless as to imperil a hundred precious lives in their selfishness to have a good time at the ex- pense of an humble beast. As soon as the panic had subsided, a new rink was cleared further down the canal, where the Christmas fete was prolonged to a late hour. The terrified animal was here supported on two parallel bars held by strong men ; and he promised to remain upright henceforth. To say the least, his frantic efforts to do the "pigeon wing" on the star-spangled firmament nearly capsized his pall-bear- ers. Guards had been posted at various points to apprise the practical jokers, if the donkey's master should come uninvited on the scene, but it seems that, by crafty, foxy methods, the Professor had been led by false scent to the suburbs. So the fun continued. After the ball was over, Mac A'Rony was returned in safety to his stall. The little fellow appeared to be the nimbler from his cold-water plunge, and was so elated over his extraordinary exploits that he brayed all the way to his quarters." As soon as I heard Mac I rushed out to the barn bare- headed, and threw my arms round his neck. I found the little fellow joyously rummaging in four huge stock- ings filled with corn bread, molasses cake, mince pie, car- rots, and apple-sauce. "I had a h 1 of a time last night," was all he said. CHAPTER VI. Christmas day is a merry day For all good lads and lassies, But dull and lorn for th' fellow born To ride or drive jackasses. Old Song. Yuletide afforded me few pleasures. How I was to bridge the gulf of penury and want of the Holiday season caused me much concern. Lacking the funds to pay my hotel and stable bills, I canvassed the town and sold a few pictures before church time. I wished to attend Christ- mas service, but lacked the nerve. My grotesque attire might have inspired the preacher. I had worn holes in all my socks, and not having the price of a new pair, retired to my room to darn them. It was the first darning of that sort I ever did ; when I had finished, I darned my luck, the hard times, and many things not down on the calendar. I pictured to my mind's eye the pleasures of Christmastide, of which I had cheated myself; but it was no time to brood over might-have- beens. I would start for the next town that morning. I felt a constant anxiety for Mac A'Rony's safety, and shouldn't feel easy until we were out of the college dis- trict. We reached Amsterdam in time for Christmas dinner. I will not give the bill of fare ; it wouldn't whet your ap- petite. The following day was almost as dull as Christ- mas. In the morning I was fortunate enough to receive in advance two dollars for distributing calendars to the 51 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK farmers on my way to the next town, and employed the afternoon repairing saddle-bags. The snow lay deep, the weather was windy and chill, and my donkey slower than axle grease ; so I tarried over night and heard Sabbath bells. Sunday evening saw us comfortably quartered in the little village of Fonda, a few miles' journey. While sup- ping I learned that a German newspaper reporter, who claimed to be walking across the continent on a $750 wager, was a guest at another hotel. He came into town shortly after dark, and, unable to pay for a bed, was per- mitted to sleep on a bench, where my informant saw him. By the terms of his bet, the fellow was not allowed to beg, but could accept the earth, if offered him. My sympathies were aroused, and I called on him after supper. He told his story, showed me papers, and a book signed by the railroad station agents on his route for he had "hit the ties" all the way and expressed much anx- iety about covering the remaining 184 miles to New York in six days. The young man looked emaciated, his shoes were liter- ally worn out. His one meal that day had been a cup of coffee and a roll. He hadn't slept in a bed since leaving Detroit, where he earned his last money, five dollars. Pod's tender heart was touched. Although the more af- fluent donkey traveler possessed but a dollar and sixty cents, he gave his brother globe-trotter a dollar, a hot supper and bed, and would have paid for a stimulating drink had not the hotel-keeper been inspired to treat the two. Next morning some commercial travelers, having learned of Pod's generosity, purchased a pair of shoes for the pedestrian. The delighted fellow departed at an early 52 MAC HELD FOR RANSOM hour, expressing his sanguine belief that he would win his wager. I had to hustle that morning to settle accounts, and it was eleven o'clock before Mac and I departed. I had only a nickel in pocket. That day we both went without lunch. It was long after dark and past supper time when we arrived in Fort Plain, and a half hour later before we reached the hotel. The town was illuminated with elec- tric arc lights, which always throw vivid shadows, and Mac A'Rony had a desperate encounter with another donkey in the snow. He reared, and pitched, and cavorted, and bolted ; he wound me up in the reins, and then bunked into me I was in his way all the time and finally rushed down a side street, dragging me after him. I had to lead the rampant animal through several un- lighted streets round the village to get him to the stable. It was the first time I had presented myself at a strange hotel without my asinine credentials. When I registered, the incredulous proprietor went to the barn for Mac's own statement before believing me the famous man I claimed to be. That evening a committee from the Bohemian Club in- vited me to a concert given under the auspices of the Fort Plain Band. I went, and enjoyed it. At its conclu- sion, I was asked to talk to a phonograph, the invention of the president of the Club. Having once addressed an audience of chairs, I could not object to talk to a funnel. I addressed the emptiness thereof with all the eloquence I could muster, then listened while the phonograph tried to repeat my words. It was simply awful. Had the ma- chine been togged out in night shirt, mask and lighted candle, and shot off such a lingo in a dark alley, I should have thought it my own spook and fled in terror. When I reached Little Falls my stock of photos was 53 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK exhausted, and, but for a stroke of good luck, I fear I could not have paid my bills. Mac A'Rony agreed to carry a sign extolling the virtues of a one-price clothier, and that brought us a few dollars, which we divided. It was late when we started for Herkimer, a town twelve miles away. The mud greatly impeded our prog- ress and, suddenly, just before dark, when five miles to town, we came to a long, covered, wooden bridge. Then there was trouble. Mac obstinately refused to enter the dark tunnel. I coaxed him with an apple to follow me ; I prodded him ; I turned him about and tried to back him through; but he would not budge. I went behind and pushed him ; and vexed beyond reason, I finally whipped him; all without avail. What could I do? I sat down and thought. No sound of an approaching vehicle greet- ed my ear, but I saw a house down the road. I decided to hitch my obdurate beast to the fence and seek assist- ance. As I approached the house the seductive aroma of frying steak told me it was supper hour. In response to my knock a rural-looking man came out and eyed me curiously, while chewing vigorously. Indoors I could hear somebody drinking out of a saucer. "Excuse me for interrupting," I said politely ; "but my jackass " "Yer what?" "My jackass! I am bound for California with one, and am stuck out there by the bridge. I came to ask your assistance." The man swallowed. "In a hole, eh? Wall, I reckon you've come ter th' right place fer help." "No, I'm not in a hole exactly that's just the trouble. My animal abhors holes ; he refuses to enter the covered bridge." 54 MAC HELD FOR RANSOM "Wall, I swan! can't yer lick him through?" the far- mer asked. "As impossible," said I, "as to lick a camel through the eye of a needle." "I want ter know. Come in," he said ; and turning to the hired man, added, "John, let's give th' feller a lift." The men donned wraps and boots, and, with an old wheelbarrow, followed me down the slushy road to the beastly eye-sore of my existence. To describe our efforts to get that donkey through the bridge would tire you as much as those efforts tired me. Mac squirmed and kicked and bit ; he would not be car- ried by hand; so the wheelbarrow was employed. He was too large for the vehicle, and lapped over the edges. We consumed a half hour in the gigantic task of wheeling Mac across that bridge. "By gum, young feller !" exclaimed the exhausted far- mer, as he dropped the heavy live weight. "Do yer haster go through this kind of business every bridge yer come ter?" I explained that I usually met with difficulties at bridges, but had never encountered a covered one before. Then I thanked the good Samaritans for their kindness, and prodded Mac to town. We arrived in Herkimer late. Directly after supper I canvassed the stores, and worked till ten o'clock selling pictures. We seemed to create quite a sensation. When about to retire, I learned that my donkey was stolen; I was told local bandits held him for ransom. I was greatly pro- voked, and rushed about the streets, making inquiries un- til, at length, a street loafer whispered that he would tell me where my animal was, if I "would blow him to a drink." I agreed. Then the man "in the know" piloted me to a bar-room several blocks away, where I 'was aston- 55 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK ished to find the captive drinking with several other jack- asses. He was the only one not disconcerted by my ap- pearance, and even had the audacity to stick his nose up at the bar-keeper and bray. I engaged men to assist me convey the inebriate to the stable as quickly as possible, and ordered an extra pad- lock to be snapped on the door. Next morning I found my partner in a surprisingly sober condition. Resuming my pilgrimage, I made brief stops at Ilion and Frankfort, and arrived in Utica shortly after dark on the last day of the leap year. The hotel corridors swarmed with inquisitive guests who had been apprised of my coming. The jovial proprietor gave us a hearty welcome, and, ordering several porters to lead Mac into the office, called loudly, to the amusement of all, "Front ! Give the donkeys the best double room in the house." "Slow traveling for a leap year," I remarked to the clerk. "Oh, that reminds me, Mr. Pod," said he; "here's a letter for you just came a few minutes ago." I settled my weary frame in a rocker and read it. It was actually an invitation to a Leap Year Ball, given un- der the auspices of the society girls of Manicure Hall. The card was printed, but on its margin were inscribed in a purely feminine hand a few choice words urging me to come in my traveling habit. It struck me that it might be my only chance to get engaged for eight long years, so I washed and brushed and polished, and turned up at the ball-room at a late but nevertheless fashionable hour. The ball was the most brilliant function it had been my pleasure to attend since the days of my freedom. Caesar ! what charming girls ! Were they really charming ! or was it because I had been a recluse so long that most any- body wearing dresses fascinated my starved optics ? Be- 56 MAC HELD FOR RANSOM fore advancing a rod into the hall, I received a proposal ; within an hour I had a dozen. The dance, the supper, the defective lights, and the kisses in the dark, the midnight alarm, and the New Year's bells, all fulfilled their offices delightfully in turn all, except the leave-taking of the old year, which groaned over the effects of bad salad, and gave up the ghost. I devoted the afternoon to a delightful nap ; I was worn out. Saturday I called upon the genial Mayor, who paid me liberally for a photo and subscribed to my donkey book. Sunday I set out with Mac for Rome. I was told all the roads were in bad condition, and was advised to take the tow-path of the Erie Canal. After two hours of tramping and groping in the darkness, we came to a suburban street ; soon after I was directed to a tavern, and quartered myself for the night. A number of commercial men had prophesied I would not make my expenses in Rome, but I did. It was an all- day job, however, and another night was fairly upon me before I started for Oneida, sixteen miles away. We had not gone far, when we came to an old-fashioned toll-gate, where I expected to be made to contribute to the county's good-road fund. I felt loath to do so, for nowhere else on my journey had we found the highway in such a disreputable condition. I told Mac to keep his mouth shut, and we stealthily walked through the gate, hoping not to be observed ; but no sooner done than the keeper issued from his shanty and welcomed me back. He wished to talk with me, he said. His boy had pre- ceded me from town and given his father glowing ac- counts of the donkey traveler. So interested were the toll-gate keeper and his family in the welfare of Pod and Mac that they not only waived the toll, but gave us a press- ing invitation to remain with them over night. The gener- 57 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK osity of that man's big, honest heart stood out in such happy contrast with the miserly county administration and my own penury that I gratified the man's desire, in a meas- ure, and hitching Mac A'Rony, followed my host into his dwelling, where I allowed myself to share his frugal board. It was certainly such a home where either a Don Quixote or a Pythagoras Pod might feel himself a dis- tinguished guest. The wife brewed tea, and spread the table with black bread and doubtfully wholesome cakes, while the children climbed on my knees and heard with rapture my tales of adventure. When it was time to go the keeper, having learned from his son that I sold the pictures "to live on," begged me with tears to accept a quarter for the one I gave him, say- ing that he had a fair-sized garden besides the pittance he received for performing the duties of his humble office, whereas I had to depend on Providence for the keeping of myself and comrade on our long trip "round the world." So Mac and I, thanking the good people for their kind- nesses for Mac's ever-acute appetite had not been over- looked by the thoughtful hostess strode on in mud and darkness, slipping, spattering, and mumbling unintel- ligible and impolite words, and hoping against hope soon to arrive at some comfortable haven of rest. A mile beyond we were greeted with loud applause is- suing from a huge building to our left, which I took to be a girl's seminary, but which Mac insisted was a slaughter house. To be distinguished in the dark and tendered such an ovation quite tickled my vanity ; but my less-conceited partner only brayed and trembled in the fear of being chased by a mad pig with its throat cut. When we had passed to a safe distance, I met a farmer in a wagon, and asked him the name of the illuminated building. "The Rome State Insane Asylum," said the man. 58 MAC HELD FOR RANSOM At length, a dense mist gathered; then it began to sprinkle. I could scarcely distinguish Mac in the dark- ness. The road was tortuous, one vast river bed of mud, as untenable as quicksand. We first ran against a barbed- wire fence on one side, and a rail fence on the other, and finally, I plunged over boot-tops in a sluice, and might have drowned had I not held the reins and been pulled out by my unintentionally heroic comrade. My boots were new and didn't leak, and the mud and water remained in them. If ever there was a moment on that overland "voyage" when I felt in prime condition to give it up, it was there and then. Still we struggled onward, and a few hundred yards ahead I discovered the faint light of a farm house, where I stopped to ask the distance to the next place we could secure shelter. " 'Bout four mile, I should jedge," said the farmer. I guessed as much, but it gave me a chance to sigh. "Mercy! None nearer?" Just then Mac coughed, and approached. "Nope. But wait! Be you the gentleman bound fer 'Frisco with a mule ?" "Verily so," I returned, while my partner brayed in- dignantly at being called a mule. "Wall, what's it wuth to take you both in fer the night and feed ye?" the man asked, avariciously. "Oh, about seventy-five cents." "Come back," said he ; "I just walked from the railroad station a mile and a half in the mud, and lost my over- shoes, and kin sympathize with ye." My donkey was comfortably stabled, watered and fed, and I ushered into a cozy room, where my host brought me dry garments and slippers, and gave me a hot supper. Truly, I thought, the darkest hour is just before dawn. 59 CHAPTER VII. I pass like night from land to land, I have strange power of speech ; So soon as e'er his face I see, I know the man that must hear me, To him my tale I teach. Rime of the Ancient Mariner. Having the funds to tide over a couple of days, I set out early next morning for Syracuse. At 1 1 :oo P. M. we tramped tired and foot-sore into the village of Fayetteville, having traveled twenty miles, the longest day's journey yet made. My donkey was fagged out. The stable men could hardly get him into his stall ; but Mac had great recupera- tive power, and was so frisky in the morning that we re- sumed the march to the Salt City. It was still some dis- tance to the city when an incident happened to mar the pleasure of our peaceful walk. In passing a large dairy farm, Mac's grotesque figure excited either the ad- miration or the contempt of an ugly-looking bull, which left a small bunch of cattle in the field and trotted along the dilapidated fence. His actions were frightfully men- acing, and I urged Mac to a faster gait. Suddenly the bull broke through the fence, bellowing, and made for us, head down. My first thought was to save Mac's life. The leather- rimmed goggles he wore placed him at a disadvantage, aside from the fact that the road was icy and denied us a secure footing. Then, too, Mac carried seventy-five 60 I MOP THE HOTEL FLOOR pounds burden, including my grip, the saddle and rifle. I was wholly unprepared for the bull ; my revolver was un- loaded, I having made it a rule to withdraw the cart- ridges every morning. As the brute lunged at my donkey, I struck Mac with my whip and wheeled him about with the reins in time to dodge the enemy. Recovering him- self, the enraged bull made another lunge at my spry partner, and still another, the third time scraping off a tuft of hair with one of his horns. I could only assist Mac with the reins while striking the bull over the face with the cutting rawhide. I yelled for help. A quarter mile away stood a farm house, and in front of it two men gawking at our "circus," indifferent to our peril. I never was more active than during those awful mo- ments; Mac afterward said he never was so busy in all his life. So rapidly did we three pirouette, the bull after Mac, the donkey after me, and I after the bull, that the two human statues in the distance must have taxed their optics to distinguish which was which. So dizzy did I become that I wheeled Mac round and started in the op- posite direction, the enemy bellowing, I calling, and the donkey braying to beat a fire-boat whistle. Finally, I heard the glad sound of approaching wheels from up the road, and at a glance saw a horse and buggy. As it came nearer, I distinguished a woman driving, and my heart sank. Surely she would not have the courage to venture into our very midst; she must soon turn round. A man might drive to our aid. Still we three kept busy, until the rig wheeled down upon us, the prancing horse so distracting the bull that he shied to the opposite side, and, forgetting us, set out on a trot after the receding vehicle, lowing vexatiously. I held my breath. Soon we collected our senses and hustled on until the enemy was lost to view. There are many 61 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK who would call our rescue a marvel ; Mac said it was just our "luck ;" but I thought it miraculous. A prominent hotel in Syracuse welcomed me as its hon- ored guest, and crowds cheered us to the door. I had consumed six weeks traveling from New York, a distance of 340 miles, although by rail the mileage shrinks to 303. It was Friday, January 8. I was tendered a private box at the theatre that evening, and the following day Mac and I appeared on the stage between acts, at both the matinee and evening performances, I receiving five dollars for each appearance. 'Saturday I devoted to business; and was invited to the Elks' entertainment in the evening. At noon on Monday we headed for Auburn. A heavy snow accompanied a fall of the mercury. Great drifts had formed during the night, reaching any- where from inches to feet, and from yard to yard. My spirits were low. The first eight miles to Camillus were covered in four hours. After a good rest and poor fod- der, we strode on over the white and solitary road seven more miles to Elbridge, where, at eight o'clock, I regis- tered at a cozy hostelry, and ordered that Mac be cared for and my supper at once be prepared. Then I hastened to canvass the stores, disposing of three photos at fifteen cents apiece. My over-night expenses would be a dollar and a half ; I lacked forty-five cents of the amount. But that did not disconcert me. The hotel was composed of bricks, and its proprietor was one of them : a jovial Grand Army man who wore a big soft hat, and a blue coat with brass buttons. His cranium was chock full of entertain- ing reminiscence, too. At that time, men were engaged with mule-teams haul- ing stone for repairing the canal, and the hotel was filled with an incongruous lot of teamsters and laborers. Judg- ing by their roguish remarks, it would be wise of me to 62 I MOP THE HOTEL FLOOR place my donkey under lock and key; but when I hinted it to my host, he assured me my fears were unwarranted. I was assigned a large chamber on the main floor, next to the dining room. There was no lock to the door; I complained about it. "Nobody will molest you," said my host. I soon fell to sleep. Long before daylight I was awakened by the juggling of plates and cutlery, and the racking of a stove. It was impossible to sleep during such a hubub, so I proposed to smoke. Rising from bed and groping in darkness, I hunted for the electric light button hanging from the ceiling, but had proceeded only a few steps when, suddenly, I fell headlong over a huge, hairy substance, which moved and yawned. Hamlet's ghost! Was this really midwinter's night dream ? I sat on the floor for a moment to set my dislo- cated big toe on the off foot, then staggered timorously to my feet, found the cord, and turned on the light. Could I believe my eyes? There lay Mac A'Rony. He gazed at me in mute bewilderment and blinked like an owl, then presently rose to the occasion, brayed, and charged at the donkey in the mirror. It was enough to awaken the whole village when the excited animal rushed around the room with the mirror frame for a collar, vaulting chairs, bed, and table, and exerting his best efforts to kick holes in the walls and ceiling. "What in damnation is the racket !" yelled the proprie- tor, as he came running to my room. I thought to. disarm him by being the first to complain, for I expected some harsh invectives to be hurled my way. "You said I should not be molested !" I said indignant- ly, standing on a mantle shelf in my night shirt. "Well! It's the first time my house was ever turned into a stable," retorted the erstwhile jovial Grand Army man. 63 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK "And it's the first time I ever was made to room with a jackass," I returned, in a rage. By this time Mac had stuck a foot in the frame-collar in trying to clear the stove, and had fallen. I quickly leaped from my perch, and my now more conciliating host helped to disengage the beast from his wooden harness, and give him a forcible exit. Then we dressed, and set to work clearing the room. Of course, the cook rushed in to have her say ; otherwise, that hotel was suspiciously quiet, considering what had happened. When I went to breakfast the landlord met me with a smile ; it surprised and pleased me. I concluded that the practical jokers had settled everything to his satisfaction. My table mates were unusually uncommunicative; their conversation hung mournfully on the weather. My break- fast finished, I went to my host and informed him of the state of my finances. "Two mule-drivers were discharged last night," he ob- served. "I could have got you a job if you had told me in time." Right here an aged townsman came in, stamping the snow off his boots, unwound a great tippet from his neck, and regarding the clay-besmeared floor, delivered his opinion to the landlord. "Gol blast me ! If I run a house a lookin' like this, I'd close up and go out of the business," the granger re- marked, with a critical eye to the floor and a wink at me. "I agree with you," said I ; "Price ought to pay a quar- ter to have the floor cleaned. "It would be worth twice that sum to me to see you clean it," he returned, humorously. "It's a bargain !" so saying, I pulled off my coat, and called for a mop and a pail of hot water. The landlord seemed to regard the incident as a good 64 I MOP THE HOTEL FLOOR joke; so did Pye Pod. Rolling up my trousers and shirt sleeves, I fell to work. The old man fled to spread the news, as soon as he saw I was in earnest. My first sweep with the old mop shattered it; the landlord lost no time procuring a new one. Then I went at it as though it were my special line of trade, and so deeply absorbed was I in the novel undertaking that less than half of the population of the village filed into the room without my comment. There were men and women, young and old and middling, and children bound for school; all around, backing against the walls and windows, commenting, laughing, and joking; while I just mopped, and with new jokes helped make merry, for I felt that was an experience of a lifetime for all of us. A pretty girl snapped a kodak at me; she took fifteen orders for pictures within a minute. I was gratified to see all enjoy themselves. Still I kept mopping, and watched the clock to see how much time was left before school. My time was coming ; I wanted everybody to hear my story. They didn't know a thing about me or Mac A'Rony, except through newspaper reports, which are not always reliable. Finally, I dropped my mop and straight- ened up to rest my lame back. "Does that suit you ?" I asked the landlord. "A handsomer job was never done this floor," said he ; "you have earned your money." Every one evidently wished to see me paid. As I re- ceived the cash, I whispered to my host to hand me the key to the door, expressing my purpose with a sly wink, which he hardly interpreted. The silver jingled with the brass in my hands, and I went to the door and locked it. Then walking to the desk, I turned, faced my audience without a blush, bowed low, and said : "Ladies and gentlemen, and children of Elbridge;" 65 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK then gave a brief account of my travels from New York. My words pleased, and were greeted with laughter. But they had not heard my peroration. "We rarely appreciate anything that costs us nothing," I began my conclusion. "In New York, a show such as I have just provided would cost at least a dollar and a half for orchestra chairs and fifty cents for the family circle; this seems to be the family circle. Now, to save the bother of printing tickets and posters, we admitted you to the show without delaying you at the door in the frosty air, and one and all, old and young, must pay me five cents before you leave this room. The door is locked, and I hold the key. Those of you ladies who left your purses on the piano can borrow of your gentlemen friends, who, doubtless, will be ready to help you out of your dilemma. Some of you may demur, and complain of hard times, but said excuses will not hold with me ; I carry hard times with me whither I go on my long journey, whereas you have yours only in one place. As soon as all have paid me, the door will be unlocked, and not until. I thank you for your unsolicited audience, and trust that the next time we meet the circumstances will be as happy for us all as they have been this January morning." My speech must have been forceful, for the nickels poured into my hat. As each individual paid I motioned him or her to the opposite side of the room, to guard against humbugging. The landlord had to come to the financial relief of a few, but the door was opened in time for school, and everybody departed with evident good feeling. My host was the most astonished of all, and, with a hearty grip of the hand, predicted that I would reach my destination. Without delay I settled my account with 66 I MOP THE HOTEL FLOOR him, saddled Mac A'Rony, and with $2.80 to the good started for Auburn. The last denizen of the village to bid me God-speed was the philanthropist who unwittingly procured me my "bill" for the hotel show, and then filled my purse for me. 67 CHAPTER VIII. An attempted assassination! I cried in excited tones. One of the boldest ever heard of, and right here, too, in the shadow of this palace devoted to commerce and peace. A Soldier of Manhattan. Soon after reaching Auburn, I received a theatre man- ager who called to engage Mac and me to appear at the Opera House. We signed with him, and the first evening we made such a decided hit that we were engaged for a re-appearance; I received ten dollars for both perform- ances and the privilege to sell photos at the door, which netted me a considerable sum. Auburn is the seat of a State Prison and a Theological Seminary. Avoiding the former, I set out to visit the seminary. The students were cordial, and showed me about the buildings, among them being Willard Chapel, which they called the handsomest in America. I was unable to leave until just before noon. Tramping without dinner went against the donkey's grain even more literally than it did mine. About 2 o'clock I was passing through Aurelius, when a farmer invited me to take lunch with him. I accepted, and enjoyed the repast and the visit with the hospitable agriculturist and his wife. He gave me a card to a California friend, and hoped I would visit him and present his regards. This pleasant delay upset my calculations ; I did not reach Cayuga until dusk. The lake was frozen, but the sun had somewhat melted the ice during the past two days. I was cautioned not to venture across with the donkey, for, if he should slip, 68 FOOTPADS FIRE UPON US both of us would go through the ice. This was a great disappointment, for it compelled me to follow the tow- path some five miles round the edge of the lake through the dreaded Montezuma Swamp, in order to reach Seneca Falls. It was long after dark when we left the swamp and entered the shadow of a rocky ridge. A half mile further, I discerned the distant electric lights of the town. To our left was the canal, and to the right, the rocky barrier, while ahead, beside the tow-path, shone an arc light suspended from one of several poles which extended in a line to town. I was tramping along at Mac's head when, suddenly, a man stepped from behind the pole and ordered me to throw up my hands. Although excited, I still had the presence of mind to jump behind my donkey. Instantly the highwayman fired at me. Then I fired to show I was armed and ready to defend myself; and at once a shot came from the rocks, a little to my rear. Turning my head, I saw what appeared to be a cave, where presumably the second man was hiding. But just as I turned my head, a second shot from the man in front knocked off my plug hat; and then came a shot from the rocks. Now, fully realizing my peril between two fires, I aimed my re- volver at the man in the road some thirty feet away, and fired to cripple him. I apparently succeeded, for the fel- low cried, "God! I'm hit!" and fell in the snow-covered road, resting on one elbow, and pressing his hand to his right breast. Not sure, however, that the man was not feigning, I shot into the cave, from which at once issued the other footpad, who ran down the tow-path. Then I picked up my hat and passed by the prostrate man, keeping my re- volver trained upon him, and hurried on toward Seneca Falls. 69 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK A quarter of a mile beyond I came to Lock House No. 6. My story greatly excited the quiet household. Hib- bard, the keeper, with a lantern helped me examine Mac to see if he was wounded; then we were generously cared for. After drinking a cup of tea and toasting my feet awhile at the fire, I made my departure. On reaching Seneca Falls, I called on the chief of po- lice ; he being absent, I saw the Mayor, who told me that I did only my duty by shooting in self-defense. Then I went back to the hotel where, in the crowd of excited peo- ple anxious to hear my story, were reporters eager to gather the facts of the affair. Next day Hibbard reported that at 2 o'clock in the morning he had heard a buggy pass his house toward the scene of the shooting, and, although he laid awake until daylight, did not hear it return. He said it was the first vehicle in years to traverse the tow-path at such a late hour, and believed the injured footpad had been rescued by his confederate and driven away. After lunch I left for Waterloo, where I found its main thoroughfare so choked with people to see me that I could not get Mac through. They hailed me as a hero, and shouted my name and Mac's until they were hoarse, and purchased all my photographs at twice the regular price. Finally, we resumed our journey, and arrived in Geneva long after dark. Geneva is the seat of Hobart College. One of the so- cieties invited me to a spread at its fraternity house; and, while I was there, Mac was stolen from the stable, of which I was not informed until evening. In view of the fact that a cow had recently been lodged in the college li- brary, I shouldered my Winchester and set out on the war- path after breakfast, accompanied by the Chief of the Fire Department. 70 FOOTPADS FIRE UPON US We had searched the dormitories and cellars of the col- lege buildings and were going to the gymnasium, when I discovered Mac standing in the snow, eating thistles. It had been a cold and stormy night ; he was covered with snow, and icicles hung from his under jaw. Yet the donkey uttered no complaint, merely saying, "The boys didn't do a thing to me last night." I learned from a pro- fessor that Mac had been found in a recitation room de- scribing impossible theorems and eating chalk, and that the janitor and two professors had their hands full carry- ing the donkey down two staircases and out of doors. Although it was biting cold and the mercury had fallen to the zero point, I could not afford to tarry longer. Af- ter lunch we set out in a blinding snow-storm and tramped on to Phelps, where we stopped for supper and an hour's rest. At first Mac had shown no ill-effects of his recent exposure, but now he coughed. Having made but eight miles that day, I resolved to brave the storm four miles further, and reached Clifton Springs at ten o'clock. There I obtained comfortable lodgings for myself and partner. Next day the venerable director of the Sanitarium in- vited me to be his guest, and kindly permitted me to lec- ture to the patients of his fashionable hostelry for a silver offering. Of course, I accepted. My "heart to heart" talk seemed to tickle the large audience, but when the porter brought back my hat with only two dollars in it I was disappointed. I had expected a contribution commensu- rate with the encores. When I paid the porter 25 cents for his services, I dropped my spectacles and broke the glasses. A new pair would cost me $1.75. That made accounts even. "Reminds me of the colored preacher," observed the director with good humor; "somebody passed his hat to ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK the congregation and returned it empty. 'Well,' said the parson, Tm thankful to de Lawd to get my hat back." The story was apt, but it did not console me. While at the Sanitarium I sold many photographs, and judging the patients to be affluent, doubled the regular price. Before our departure, Mac showed symptoms of rheumatism. A doctor suggested that an electri-thermal bath would make a new animal of him. "It won't cost you a cent," said he. I arranged for the treatment at once. It required several attendants to get the fellow in the elec- tric chair, where they secured him with straps ; and then the doctor administered the electricity. While the electric wand was rubbed over his legs and body, the frightened donkey brayed and twisted and squirmed, and threatened to upset the chair, causing much merriment. Well, Mac's professional treatment made him a new donkey. He traveled more quickly than ever before, and almost out-tramped his master. Near the Springs is a farm-house where resided, at that time, a sister of Stephen A. Douglas. I called to see her, and was cordially received. She was 86 years of age, her left arm paralyzed, and her eyesight very dim. Tramping on, we came to Shortsville, where we stopped for dinner. Supper was eaten at Victor, and at eight, Mac and I set out for Pittsford, the wind and snow blowing furiously in our faces. The night was intensely dark. Somewhere past ten, I passed two tramps on the highway, but only they and the passing trains broke the monotony of the journey. It must have been eleven when the road joined another at right angles ; I was puzzled then whether to turn to the left or to the right. I stamped my half frozen feet, as we halted in the biting wind until, presently, through the fall- ing snow, I saw a distant light, and hurried for it. Far- 72 FOOTPADS FIRE UPON US mers usually retired early; but on arriving at the cozy house, I found a party of young people dancing, playing cards, and eating refreshments. A kind-faced woman greeted me at the door, and asked me in. When I intro- duced myself, and inquired my way, the astonishment of the whole party told me plainly I was considered an hon- ored guest, transient indeed though I was. "Well, I declare, we've read about you lots;" said the hostess. "Won't you sit down and have some ice cream and cake ?" "I smell coffee," I remarked, frankly; "if I may be treated to a little of that, I shall be grateful ; but as for ice cream, I feel it a little unseasonable this evening. And as I rubbed my ears vigorously, the girls laughed and said, Ain't he plucky !" It was hard, indeed, to break away from this jolly party ; I don't know how long I should have tarried if Mac had not called to me. His bray was the signal for a stampede to the porch; all forgot refreshments and dancing in their eagerness to see the famous donkey. They simply lionized him. The girls carried cake and pie and ice cream to him, and one offered him a fried egg, which he declined. When we said our adieux the shiver- ing group gave us a hearty cheer and God-speed, then rushed indoors, leaving the dejected pilgrims to the cold consolation of the snow, wind and darkness of a winter's night. 73 CHAPTER IX. In the first lighted house there was a woman who would not open to me. . . . Modestine was led away by a layman to the stables, and I and my pack were received into our Lady of the Snows. Travels with a Donkey. Having been directed on the road to Pittsford, a town seven miles beyond, we tramped wearily on, battling with the elements as best we could until midnight, when al- most numb with cold, I resolved to seek refuge in a small hamlet we were nearing, called Bush- nell Basin. I was told it contained a tavern which would accommodate us, in an emergency. But it was so dark when we reached Bushnell that I could not see the Basin. Its dozen dusky-looking shanties seemed to be deserted, and when I saw a boy crossing the road I was too surprised to hail him. Mac brayed, and the lad stopped. I asked him where the hotel was. He directed me toward a dim light, and disappeared. We pushed on, but the light was extinguished before we could reach the house. I called loudly to the landlord to let me in ; I rapped on the door desperately, and repeated my yells. A dog in the house barked savagely; then Mac began to bray, and I wondered that nobody entered a pro- test against such a disturbance. At length, a squeaky fe- male voice called from an upstairs window : "Who be ye?" "A man/' I answered, civilly. "What kind of a man?" 74 IN A HAYMOW BELOW ZERO "A gentleman/' I said, with emphasis. "What's that thing yer got with ye?" I was afraid she'd catch cold in the opened window, if she was in her nightdress, but I replied in a voice of a siren, "A jackass." "Can't let ye in no room for shows here next town," fell the frozen words on my benumbed ears. Then the woman sneezed, and closed the window. Mac A'Rony seemed to comprehend the situation, but offered no remedy. I would have covered the three miles to Pitts- ford, but the donkey was fagged out, and could barely drag his legs. Where were we to find shelter at such a time and place ? Retracing our steps a short distance, I caught the sound of pounding, as of a hammer. Soon I heard the sawing of a board, and the saw's enraged voice when it struck a knot. Saved! I thought, as I walked in the direction whence the sound emanated. The snow lay ten inches deep ; old Boreas shook the trees, and whistled round the quivering hovels ; and I was so chilled and vexed that, if another person had dared to ask me what kind of a man I was, I would have measured somebody for a coffin. Finally, I came to the house, through whose window I discerned a lighted candle in a back room. I rapped on the door. The sawing continued ; so did my rapping. Then the sawing ceased, and the door was opened by a swarthy, heavy bearded man who extended me a kindly "Good evenin'." I introduced myself, and pleaded my case. "Come in where it's warm," he said ; and following him to the stove, I explained my situation. "We ain't got much accommodation for ye," he apolo- gized, "but I can't leave ye and yer pet out in the cold. This is my wife," and the man introduced me. Then he 75 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK censured the landlady of the tavern for not admitting me, saying she ought to have her license revoked. "If you'd been a loafing vagabond and drunkard, she'd taken ye in quick enough," said my sympathetic host ; "but as ye was a gentleman she was embarrassed to know how to treat ye." From which I gathered that he did know how, and would prove it. He explained that the front part of the building was a store ; the rear portion was divided into two small rooms, a kitchen and a sleeping room. The second floor was utilized as a hay-loft, wherein was stored Hungarian hay for his horse, which he said he kept "in a shed 'cross the road yonder." "Now, if ye'll lend me a hand," he suggested, "we'll make room for yer mule in the shed, and my wife'll get ye something to eat. Then we'll see where we kin tuck ye comfortable till mornin'." I pulled on my mittens and followed the man into the biting wind with a warmer and cheerier heart, and, ac- quainting Mac with the good news, proceeded to assist my host to transfer a huge woodpile in order to obtain the side of a hen roost lying underneath it, with which to construct a partition in the shed to preserve peace between horse and donkey. By one o'clock Mac was stabled and I in prime condi- tion to enjoy any kind of a meal. The good wife had fried me three eggs, and brewed me a pot of tea, and sawed off several slices of home-made bread, for which I blessed her in my heart and paid her a compliment by eating it all. The repast over, I chatted a while with my friends and smoked; then said if they were ready to retire, I was. A roughly made staircase reached from the kitchen floor over the cook-stove to a trap-door in the ceiling, and up those stairs I followed my host, he with candle in hand, I with a quilt which I feared the kind people had robbed 76 IN A HAYMOW BELOW ZERO from their own bed. Great gaps yawned in the roof and sides of the loft, through which the wind whistled coldly. The hay was covered with snow in places and the ther- mometer must have been far below zero. But I stuck my legs in the hay, and pulled a woolen nightshirt over my traveling clothes, and tucked the quilt round my body, and put on my hat and earlaps, and soon was as snug as a bug in a' rug, and slept soundly. I arose early with the family, joined them at breakfast, paid my host liberally, and started with Mac for Pittsford. There we were welcomed by a party of young men who had expected to give us a fitting reception the evening be- fore. They claimed that, had they known where we were, they would have rescued us with a bob-sleigh. I did not tarry with them, but tramped on to Rochester, and arrived there at 3 130 P. M., having covered thirty-five miles since the previous morning. We spent two days in the Flour City. An old business acquaintance arranged for Mac A'Rony to pose in the show window of a clothing store, for which I received five dollars. Although it was dreadfully cold and the wind blew a gale, Mac attracted every pedestrian on the street. I called on "Rattlesnake Pete," the proprietor of a well- known curiosity shop, who wanted to buy my bullet- riddled hat, but I declined to part with it at any reason- able price; then I called on the Mayor. He received me cordially, laughed when I related my adventures, and sub- scribed to my book. Rochester is the seat of a Theological Seminary, and several breweries. Near by is the celebrated Genesee Falls, where Sam Patch leaped to his death. Many old friends called on me during my sojourn, among them a physician, who gave me a neat little case of medicines, such as he believed would be most needed in emergency 77 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK on such a journey ; and while being entertained at a club, I was presented with a fine sombrero. In spite of the frigid gale which had been raging three days, and of the dire predictions of the Western Union bulletins, I started with Mac for Spencerport at 12:30, right after lunch. The village lay twelve miles distant. The biting wind swept across the level meadows, laden with icy dust from the frozen crust of the snow, and cut into our faces. Five times were Mac and I welcomed into houses to warm, but we reached the village an hour and a half after dark with only my ears frost-bitten, and soon were comfortably quartered for the night. Next morning we started for Brockport, eight miles further on, by the tow-path, which we followed. The wind was blowing forty miles an hour, and the mercury fell below zero. Every now and then we had to turn our backs to the gale to catch our breath. Mac's face was literally encased in ice ; I rubbed my ears and cheeks constantly to prevent their freezing. Only two or three sleighs were out, and the drivers of these were wrapped so thoroughly in robes and mufflers that I could not distin- guish male from female. Still determined not to. retreat to town, I urged my little thoroughbred on, and soon we were called into a house and permitted to thaw out. On this occasion Mac, to his own astonishment, as well as that of the kind lady of the house, stuck his frosted snoot into a pot of boiling beans on the stove, for which unprecedented behavior I duly apologized. Eight more times both of us were taken into hospitable homes and inns to warm before reaching Brockport at eight in the evening, more dead than alive. My nose and ears were now frost-bitten. The towns-people, hearing of our arrival, flocked into the hotel to chat with me, or went to the stable to see Mac A'Rony. 78 IN A HAYMOW BELOW ZERO Wednesday I resumed the journey, resolved that noth- ing save physical incapacity should deter me; now was the time to harden myself to exposure, and prepare me for greater trials later oh. But before leaving, I purchased a small hand-sled, and improvised rope-traces by which Mac could draw my luggage instead of carrying it. Be- sides, this novel sort of vehicle would attract attention; I realized that we must depend for a living more upon sensation than upon our virtues. The next thing essential was a collar for the donkey, and I had to make it. But to make the stubborn beast understand I wished him to draw the sled, that he wasn't hitched to stand, was the greatest difficulty I had. Finally, he caught on, and marched along through the streets quite respectably. Beyond the town we met with some deep snowdrifts lying across the road, and Mac's little legs would get stuck, or he would pretend they were, and I would have to dig the fellow out with my rifle. Again, while leading the stubborn animal in order to make better time in the opposing wind, I would suddenly hear a grating, scrap- ing sound to the rear, and looking around would find the sled overturned with its burden. After several such up- sets, I cut a bough from a tree, whittled a toothpick point to it, and prodded Mac to proper speed, while I walked behind and with a string steadied the top-heavy load of freight. Then, this difficulty remedied, Mac, with seem- ing rascality, would cross and recross the ridge of ice and snow in the center of the road, as if he couldn't make up his mind which of the beaten tracks to follow, or disliked the monotony of a single trail, every time upsetting the sled. During that long and frigid day's tramp but one human being passed me, and he was in a sleigh. He rec- ognized my outfit, for he called to me encouragingly, "Stick to it, Pod ; you'll win yet !" 79 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK - Late in the afternoon a man hailed me from the door of a farm-house, "Come in and warm, and have a drink of cider." Now, if there was one thing in the world that tickled my palate, it was sweet cider, and I accepted a glass. "Wouldn't your pard have a drink?" asked the gener- ous man. "Presume he would, if you offered it," I replied. "I never knew him to refuse any kind of a beverage, though this cider is pretty hard." The farmer brought out a milk-pan; and that donkey drained the pan. "Shall I give him some more?" asked the big-hearted soul. Mac stuck out his nose in mute response, so I said yes, provided he would not be robbing himself; it would probably put new vigor in the fatigued animal, and super- induce more speed. "Got barrels of it, friend, barrels of it," said the Good Samaritan, who refilled the pan which Mac again drained. Then thanking the farmer, I steered my donkey on over the ice-bound highway. We had not proceeded a mile when I observed that Mac did not walk as firmly as he had ; his course was decidedly zig-zag. Finally I left my station at the sled and guided him by the bit. Now he staggered more than ever ; then it dawned on me that the cider had gone to his head. In less than five minutes more I regretted having met that liberal-hearted farmer, possessing barrels of hard cider. Suddenly the drunken donkey fell down in the snow, and, instead of attempting to rise, he tried to stand on his head. Not succeeding in that, he made an effort to sit up, and toppled over backwards. All this time he brayed ecstatic- ally, as if in the seventh heaven. Next he began to roll, and tangled himself in the rope traces, and tumbled the 80 "Mac could draw my luggage instead of carrying it." "Mac's little legs would get stuck. IN A HAYMOW BELOW ZERO sled and gladstone bag about the snow as though it were rubbish. Fearing lest he would break my rifle and cam- eras, I tried to unbuckle them from the saddle while the scapegrace was in the throes of delirium tremens, and got tangled up with him in the ropes. In trying to free my- self, I was accidentally kicked over in the snow. And in that ridiculous and awkward fix I was found by a jovial farmer, who drove up in a sleigh. He soon helped me out of my scrape, and laughed me into good humor, kindly consenting to take charge of my luggage and send a bob- sleigh after the drunkard as soon as he reached his house, a mile beyond. There I waited for the relief committee and the wreck- ing sleigh to arrive. To say I was the maddest of mortals doesn't half express it. At length two strong men with my help succeeded in depositing Mac on the bob ; and he was conveyed to the barn and there placed behind the bars, bedded and fed, and left to sober up, while I, his out- raged master, was hospitably entertained over night by my charitable benefactor. We were now at Rich's Corners, some four miles from Albion. My good host provided me with such warm ap- parel as I hadn't with me, and when bed-time came, I was trundled into a downy bed where I dreamed all night about drunken jackasses. By breakfast time I had recovered my good spirits. I insisted on baking the buckwheat cakes, and not until all the family were apparently filled with the flapjacks which I tossed in the air to their amusement did I sit down to the table to eat. Breakfast over, I joined my host in a smoke, then donned my wraps for the day's journey. When we men returned from the barn with the reformed donkey, a num- 81 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK her of the neighboring farmers had assembled with their families on the porch to see the overland pilgrims. I snapped my camera on the group, said "Go on, Mac," to my remorseful partner, and soon was plodding toward Albion. 82 CHAPTER X. Strange to see what delight we married people have to see these poor fools decoyed into our condition, every man and woman gazing and smiling at them. Samuel Pepys' Diary. We did not reach Albion until noon. So numerous were the snow-drifts that we made only a mile an hour. Old Boreas might have been a little more considerate and brushed the snow along the fences instead of piling it across our path. That morning I dug Mac out of a dozen snow-drifts. Albion looked to be a pretty place. Besides many at- tractive homes, it possesses the celebrated Pullman Mem- orial Church, a High School, and a woman's reformatory. But I did not visit those interesting places. Being a high churchman, the church was too low for me ; not be- ing up in the classics, the high school was too high for me; and believing women to be terrestrial angels, I did not wish to be convinced that my judgment was wrong by investigating a female reformatory. I put up at a com- fortable hotel, where I was told that the relentless storm would likely imprison me several days, and found cozy quarters for Mac A'Rony. The day after my arrival, a neighboring farmer took me sleigh-riding into the coun- try to dine with him and his mother, his fleet horse having once conveyed him and his father from Dakota to Albion, 1, 600 miles, in thirty-six days. When I told Mac about it, he turned a deaf ear, lay down, and groaned a groan of incredulity. Ex-Consul Dean Currie invited me to spend 83 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK an evening with him and his family, and took me to call on the Mayor, who received me cordially and offered me the use of the Town Hall for a lecture. I accepted, and addressed a well-filled house; my receipts far exceeding my expenses in town. The coziest place during these three stormy days, I found to be an easy chair by the great stove in the hotel office, where I whiled away most of my time. There, throughout the wintry days and evenings, assembled the guests of the house and many convivial spirits from town, to hear the biggest lie, or to relate the most ridiculous yarn. At one of those gatherings, I met an interesting char- acter Sylvenus Reynolds. Although he was eighty-four years old, he appeared as young and agile as most men of half his years. He attributed his longevity to active out- of-door life. Judging from his talk, one would have thought him to be the greatest traveler living; but, be- cause he was denied the gift of a scribe, he would prob- ably die like the heroes of the country churchyard, "un- known to fortune and to fame." He had tramped and lived by his rifle from Puget Sound to Terra Del Fuego, and was the first white man to cross the Andes from Chili to Brazil. Once in the jungles of India he and a lion and a tiger all met unexpectedly, and, while the three were determin- ing which two should become partners, the tiger made a spring at Sylvenus, and just when his gun missed fire and he thought it all up with him, the lion leaped in the air, caught the tiger by the neck, and killed it. He said after that he never could be induced to take the life of a lion, "the kindest and gentlest of wild beasts." But I must tell about his famous jump across the Lock at Lockport, at that time 14% feet wide. The event was 84 AN ASININE SNOWBALL. well advertised. Temporary toll-gates were established, and ten cents levied on such individual passing through to the "show." Over eight hundred and eighty-eight dol- lars were collected for the jumper. The jump was suc- cessful, and Syl got the pot. The narrative closed with a discussion and another jump. "That wasn't such a mighty big jump," remarked a listener. "I know several fellows who can jump to beat 141/2 feet." "I'll bet a dollar with any or all the men present," said I, "that not one of you can stand still on this floor and jump 7 feet." I had ten takers. The money was deposited with the proprietor; the house was thrown into great excitement. The ten jumps were made. But the judges agreed with Pod that the jumpers failed to stand still and jump, and so handed me the money. Naturally, the jumpers, being in a jumping mood, wanted to jump on me next, but they finally conciliated, and regarded me thereafter with sus- picion. Although the roads were reported impassable, we de- parted for Medina on Sunday morning, and, the day fol- lowing, hastened on toward Lockport. When yet two miles to town, after traveling sixteen miles, a boy ran after us in the darkness and persuaded me to return to his house, as his Pa wished me to be his guest over night ; so we did not reach Lockport until eleven next morning. I no sooner stabled Mac than I boarded the train for Buf- falo in quest of a theatre engagement; failing in that, I returned to enjoy a stroke of good luck in the form of an engagement for Mac and me to appear on a vaudeville stage in Lockport, which netted me a few honest dollars. At six o'clock Thursday morning we were off for Buf- falo, a twenty-six mile journey. Only once did we stop, 85 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK when I unsaddled for our mid-day meal at Stormville, Mammoth snow-drifts were piled against the fences and across the roads which, melting, gave way under my donkey's weight, frequently imprisoning his slim legs. We reached a school-house near the village of Wil- liams ville just as the scholars were dismissed for their nooning, and were immediately set upon by a laugh- ing, shouting, questioning bevy of frolicsome children, who made merry sport of my partner's predicament; he was stuck in a snow-drift. If Mac had exerted himself a little, he might have climbed out, but he was tired, un- usually obstinate, and naturally lazy, and so preferred to await developments. One precocious genius in the crowd suggested rolling the donkey into a snowball, and rolling him to town. That was the signal for a general hurrah. I shook my head disapprovingly, but, on thinking it over, decided to try the novel plan. "Come on, boys," I said. And then with peals of mer- riment and youthful energy which I never saw equalled, the whole lot soon packed the snow about the patient animal, until only his head and tail were left exposed; then I gave the word "heave to," and the asinine snow- ball began to turn slowly on its axis, and made a com- plete revolution. The donkey brayed with laughter; but before he had rolled a dozen times he stopped braying and began kicking, or rather made futile efforts to kick. A dozen more revolutions and he complained of dizziness, but the children only pushed and rolled with renewed energy. Larger and larger the snowball grew, until finally we had to stop and scale off sufficient snow to en- able the good work to go on. And presently it did go on, and we rolled the asinine snowball into town amid the cheers and laughter of the children, the frightful brays 86 AN ASININE SNOWBALL of protestation from the imprisoned donkey, and the dumb consternation of the villagers. Mac, when liberated, rose at once, only to topple over on his head. He claimed the earth was turning around, which was true enough, although not the way the donkey meant. He was too dizzy to stand for some time; each effort resulted in a comical physical collapse, that set the villagers shrieking with laughter. This was a good time for me to profit by Mac's generous entertainment, and while telling the assembled crowd all about our travels, I sold photos by the dozen. The people opened their pock- ets liberally, and before they could recover from the ef- fects of the sensation Mac had caused, we pilgrims were hurrying out of town, over an easier road to Buffalo. In consequence of the snowball affair and several other delays, we did not reach the city until after dark. Having traveled seventeen miles since lunch, we were ravenously hungry. Buffalo presented a beautiful sight, with her myriad lights gleaming on the snow. Down Main street, I espied a patent night-lunch wagon standing by the curb, and hitching Mac to the hind axle, I went in for a bite. Suddenly I became conscious that the vehicle was moving, and made a hasty exit, to discover I had traveled several blocks in the lunch wagon. The hard travel Mac had been subjected to for the past week necessitated his having a long rest before resuming the journey. The morning after our arrival in Buffalo, my aristocratic donkey was made the honored guest of the Palace Stables, a large and handsome brick building. Mac's box stall was on the third floor, and could be reached either by an inclined run-way, or an elevator. The donkey being unaccustomed to such extravaganzas as elevators, chose the inclined plane, and even then he put on such airs that it required the united efforts of a 87 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK half dozen stablemen to escort him to his apartment. Once there, he was feted like a nobleman. I, too, was lavishly entertained. But of all the cour- tesies extended me the most interesting was the invitation to stand up with a young Italian wedding party in the City Hall, where the Mayor, who sent for me, tied the knot. His Honor did the sacred office bravely until the conclusion, when he flunked completely. I'll explain. Casimo Mazzette and Rosino Lodico were dago peas- ants, born in Palermo, Sicily. The groom was tall and proud and embarrassed, although ten years the senior of his eighteen-year-old bride, who was too coy to meet his gaze. She at first took Pod for a preacher, engaged to prompt the Mayor. According to the custom of their na- tive heath, they simply joined hands, instead of using a wedding-ring, a very sensible idea, for hard times. The pretty ceremony over, the bewitching female benedict looked at the Mayor, and moved toward him, and raised her face, but the embarrassed Mayor withdrew, to the as- tonishment of everyone, explaining that he was married to a jealous woman, and asked me to kiss the bride for him. He preferred to do the honors by proxy. So, with- out comment or hesitation, I stepped up to the pretty dago, placed my arm around her to avoid danger of mak- ing a bungle of the first kiss I ever gave a woman, drew her face to mine, and kissed her squarely on her ruby lips. She looked so happy that I was about to repeat the act, but her husband stepped between us. The pair shook hands with the Mayor and his clerical-looking assistant, who wished them lots of luck and "dagoettes," and then the blushing bride fled with her devoted swain out of the hall. Next day I accepted for Mac an invitation to a phono- graph exhibition in the Ellicott Building. We both at- tended and were richer for it. The room was well-filled 88 AN ASININE SNOWBALL with men and women who eagerly awaited the advertised show. When the manager courteously asked what was the donkey's favorite style of music I explained that, as he was a slow animal, he probably preferred lively music. At once the "yellow kid" held the tubes to the donkey's ears ; those sensitive organs indicated his delight by each alternatively flapping forward and backward; but, sud- denly, as they were thrown forward together, the jackass kicked an incandescent light globe above into flying frag- ments. Women screamed and fell into the arms of the men for protection. "You said the donkey was gentle," said the manager, angrily. "So he is," I returned. "Then how do you account for such high kicking?" "Struck a discord, I presume," I said. "What music is in that machine ?" The clerk answered. "The first p-p-piece was the "Darkey's Dream," said he, with slight impediment of speech, "but the s-s-second was "Schneider's Band." "Who wouldn't kick!" I exclaimed. Due apologies were in order, and confidence was restored, and an hour later we two departed with the donkey's earnings and the well wishes of all. 89 CHAPTER XL ASININE TABLE OF MEASUREMENT. Nine square inches make one foot, Four all-around feet make one jackass, One cross jackass makes three kicks, Two hard kicks make one corpse; Corpse, kicks, jackass, feet How many doggies do we meet? Dogeared Doggerels . From which table we may safely conclude there is one dog less in the world, and that, estimating him by his kicks, Mac is a jackass and a half. If I had kept a complete record of the breeds, sorts, col- ors, and conditions of the canines, the pups and curs we met with on the road from New York, I might have com- piled a book larger than Trow's New York City Directory, which still would exclude the mongrels and all unclassi- fied "wags" and "barks" of the country sausage-districts. From a financial point of view, I was disappointed with our four-days' sojourn in Buffalo, but Mac and I were rested, and the weather was -milder. The winds from Lake Erie had swept the snow off the roads against the fences where it didn't belong, so that my partner had to drag the sled out of Buffalo over a dry and rutty highway. There were, however, several places where the elements had shown a grudge against the farmers by piling huge snow drifts across the road to impede their travel and maliciously blowing the white spread from the fields of winter wheat which required its protecting warmth. 90 ONE BORE IS ENOUGH Directly on reaching Hamburg, we were taken in charge by a Mr. Kopp (Mac had predicted a cop would have us before long), and given a warm reception. On the way to Eaton's Corners, six miles beyoncl, I undertook to earn fifty cents in an extraordinary manner; some might call it a hoggish manner. A farmer hailed me from a barnyard, and asked if he could sell me a boar. "Boar!" I exclaimed, almost losing my breath; and I added : "No, sir ; one boar is enough." "Well, then, do yer want to make a half dollar?" he called. "Course I do more than anxious," I answered. "Then jes' help me drag this 'ere hog ter town most; Squire Birge has bought it, and I've agreed ter deliver it or bust." "Let's see it," I said. "Don't know much about hogs, but I'll know more, I guess, when I see yours." I followed the man, Mac tagging close behind. Behold ! A docile looking hog of mastodon dimensions was con- veying the contents of a corn crib to its inner self. I walked around the beast several times to count his good points, and closed the bargain. An end of a rope was fastened to the hog's hind foot, and the other end wound round the pommel of the saddle. Then I gave the infuriated donkey the whip. A tug of war followed ; presently the rope snapped, and donkey and hog were hurled in opposite directions, both turning somersaults. Luckily my rifle escaped injury. The hog lost the kink in his tail; he looked mad, and with his vicious stares, frightened Mac half to death. Finally the rope was again adjusted, and an exciting scene ensued. The velocity of the vibrations of that hog's roped foot, trying to kick loose, put electricity to shame. When the donkey eased up a little, the boar showed its true character 91 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK by starting for the barn, pulling Mac after him ; while, on the other hand, when the hog stopped for wind, the donkey would make a dive for town and drag him un> til he also had to pause for breath. So those obdurate beasts worked rather than played at cross-purposes for half an hour before I forfeited my contract and proceeded on over the frozen road. We reached Angola by seven, and Farnham at ten o'clock. There we were comfortably quartered ; Mac was rubbed with liniment, fed and watered, while I, too late for supper, retired with an empty stomach. The Lake Shore road threads some thrifty-looking towns. The country was dotted with neatly painted barns and cozy houses, surrounded by energetic windmills and inert live-stock, while denuded vineyards laced the frosted shores for miles about. We lunched at Silver Creek, where a burly denizen tried to sell me a big dog, which, he claimed, would tear an ox into pieces. The price named was $5. Neither man nor dog made an impression on me. When I finally drew rein in Dunkirk, at 7:30 P. M., the hotel was alive with commercial men who quickly sur- rounded us. In ten minutes I sold enough chromos to pay our expenses over night and purchase a new breast- band for Mac. Prior to February 12, Lincoln's Birthday, I traveled so rapidly (even with a donkey), that events somewhat confused me ; following the shore of Lake Erie, I visited a dozen towns or more, sometimes several in a single day. I had no sooner disfigured the guest register of the New Hotel, Fredonia, with my odd signature than I dis- covered the illustrious name of Geo. W. Cable on the line above mine. It seemed a strange coincidence that two such famous men as Cable and Pod should be so unex- 92 ONE BORE IS ENOUGH pectedly crowded together in that little book, in a little inn, in that town. Natural enough and pursuant to the Law of Affinities, I immediately sent my card to the cele- brated author, who at once invited the eccentric traveler to his room. Mr. Cable had been reclining, having just ar- rived by train. He gave me a complimentary ticket to his lecture, that evening, which I placed in my pocket, and later gave to the hotel clerk for discounting my bill. "What a pretty place this must be in summer," was the author's initiatory remark, while twisting a yawn into a smile. ' "Yes, indeed," I answered, and stretched my legs. "And how do you stand the journey." "Oh, fairly well ; getting in better condition every day." "You are a slender man, Professor, but I assume, very wiry, like the cables." The conversation continued until I felt the strain, and I presently shook hands, and wishing him a full house, de- parted. The author-lecturer is a little under stature ; he wore a genial smile and frock coat ; his eyes were as bright as duplex burners ; and he shook hands just as other peo- ple do. It was long after dark when we travelers ambled into Brockton and put up for the night. Mac and I had passed the day in the village of Ripley. The Raines Law did not seem to have a salutary effect on that section of the State. I met on the road that after- noon a tall, lank, tipsy fellow, carrying a long muzzle' loader gun. He stopped me, and said he was a Western- er, a half-breed, and fifty years old. "Been out shootin' mavericks," he said importantly. "Same gun (hie) had in th' Rockies. I'm gentle, though gentle as a kitten." I was charmed to know he was not hostile, said "So long," and hurried on. 93 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK Sunday was Valentine's Day. I received a few doubt- fully appropriate souvenirs, but did not discover the name of a single friend in the batch. Before leaving Ripley I was presented with a large and handsome dog, a cross be- tween the bloodhound and the mastiff, a pup weighing 98 pounds, which I named Donkeyota. The generous donor was a Mr. W. W. Rickenbrode, who accompanied me some distance to assist me in handling the huge ani- mal, in case of emergency. He had no sooner bade me good-bye than I feared lest I should not be able to make another mile that day. The wind blew a hurricane. While passing a cemetery, I took a snap-shot of square grave-stones, which photograph shows them rolling in that driving gale. It was the most wonderful demonstra- tion of the wind's power I ever witnessed. Shortly afterward, in descending a steep and icy road into a gully the sled with its burden ran against my donkey's heels, upset him, and carried him half way down the hill. In my anxiety and haste to assist Mac, and hold on to my hat, I dropped the dog's chain, and away he went kiting down hill after the sled ; and I needed four hands. To my surprise, the dog, Don, seemed to enjoy the enter- tainment, and instead of fleeing back to Ripley, rolled in the snow and barked in glee. We reached the Half Way House, Harbor Creek, after dark. Next morning after breakfast the landlord's little daughter came rushing into the house to impart the thrill- ing news that John, their horse, had a little colt ; and, en- thusiastically leading us to the stable, she pointed to my donkey and said, "There! see?" Mac A'Rony turned his head and regarded the little one with a comical expression on his countenance, as much as to say, "If I brayed, you'd think me a Colt's revolver." Upon entering the city of Erie, Pa., the Transfer Con> 94 ONE BORE IS ENOUGH pany sent an invitation to Mac A'Rony and Donkeyota to be its guests ; I sought a leading hotel, and busied my- self with my newspaper article. Tuesday, late in the day, we started for Fairview, twelve miles beyond. We passed many jolly sleighing parties, some of whom stopped to chat with me, and share with me refreshments, and pur- chase my chromos; and one sleigh load promised to en- tertain me royally at the hotel. They kept their word, and after refreshments and an hour's rest, we resumed the journey in the light of the full moon, arriving at Girard by 9 130. Next morning, the village constable arrested my attention and persuaded me to act as auctioneer at a ven- due; by which deal I made some money. I worded the hand-bill as follows : AUCTION SALE. Monday, February isth, 1897. The farm of Jeremy Shimm, its buildings, live- stock, farming utensils and implements, its crops and its woodland, its weals and its woes, including the following named articles and belongings, will be sold under hammer this day at 10 a. m. : Barns and sheds, and other stable articles, pens and pig-pens, hen-roosts, dog-kennels, house and smoke-house, step-ladders, dove-cotes, buggies, wagons, traps and rat-traps, plows, sows, cows, bow-wows, hay-mows, sleds, beds, sheds, drills, wills and mills, wagon-jacks and boot-jacks, yoke of oxen, yolk of eggs, horse-clippers, sheep-shears, horse-rakes, garden-rakes, cradles, corn-cribs and baby-cribs, cultivators, lawn mowers, corn-shellers, chickens and coops, roosters and weathercocks, swine, wine, harrows, wheel- barrows, bows-and-arrows, stoves, work horses, sawhorses, axles and axle-grease, axes, cider, carpets, tables, chairs, wares, trees, bees, cheese, etc. By orders of the TOWN CONSTABLE, Hank Kilheffer, Pythagoras Pod, Auctioneer. 95 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK The dodgers were speedily printed and circulated in all directions sown broadcast, as it were and, it being a windy day, they flew like scudding snow-flakes over every farm for miles around. A great throng assembled to witness the extraordinary event, and to take advantage of bargains with the traveler- auctioneer, who, mounted on a pile of wood, with plug hat in hand, yelled at the top of his voice and finally dis- posed of the rubbish. The art of auctioneering seemed to come to me by inspiration, and the enthusiastic farmers and towns-people swarmed around me, eager to secure a trophy of the notable sale. "Three superb harrows are now to be sold, and will be sold, if I have to buy them myself seventy-two tooth, thirty-six tooth and false tooth harrows ; harrows with wisdom teeth, eye teeth and grinders, will grind up the soil and corn-stubble in a harrowing manner, and cultivate the acquaintance of the earth better than any other kinds made. How much am I offered ?" As I yelled, I felt that I had strained my voice. "One dollar," called a granger to set the ball rolling. "One dollar, one dollar, one dollar going one dollar gone one dollar to the bow-legged gentleman over there, with albino eyebrows "This way, sir!" I shouted. "Constable, please take his name, and chain him to the wood pile." In this manner it didn't take me long to dispose of the farm, including the soil four thousand miles deep, and the air forty-five miles high. I finished the ordeal by noon, was paid my fee, and then discourteously told that I had realized several hundred dollars less from the sale than the constable himself could have done. Still every pur- chaser admitted he was more than satisfied with my gen- 96 ONE BORE IS ENOUGH erous conduct, shook my hand, bought a chromo and ex- pressed the desire to meet me again. And that was a thing that does not happen always in connection with vendues. 97 CHAPTER XII. I do love these ancient ruins. We never tread upon them but we set Our foot upon some reverend history. Duchess of Malfy. I did not tarry long in Girard, but spent the night in West Springfield. Thursday morning I escaped from the Keystone into the Buckeye State, eating dinner in Con- neaut. As the sleighing had disappeared, I shipped my little sled home, as a relic of the trip, and packed my grip in the saddle, as of old. After a short rest in Ashtabula, we climbed a hill by the South Ridge road, where I got a fine view of the city, and soon lost ourselves in the darkness. Presently a farmer drove up in a rickety wagon and be- gan to coax me to accept of his hospitality for the night. He deftly explained that he would care for me and my animals until after breakfast for fifty cents. I decided to avail myself of the invitation, and Mac congratulated me on my display of good sense. I, too, slapped myself on the shoulder ; I was ready to sup and go right to bed. In a short time both donk and dog were comfortably stabled, and I was introduced to the family. The noises from the lighted kitchen had faintly intimated to me the sort of den into which I was allured. It con- tained the noisiest lot of children that ever blessed a household. "Are these all yours ?" I inquired, politely. "Nope," answered Mr. Cornbin. "Ye see, this 'ere's 98 AT A COUNTRY DANCE sort of a half-way house;" the man smiled, and poked some cheap tobacco into his corn-cob pipe. "There's go- in' to be a dance down to Plimton's to-night and all our friends from around 've fetched in their babies for George Buck he's our hired man to take care of. Like to dance, eh? Better go 'long fine women going ter be there here's plug, . if ye want a chew no ? That's smokin' terbaccer on the table by yer. We're plain folks, but you're welcome to the best we've got." Mrs. C. prepared me a supper which went right to the spot. She advised me to go to the dance, by all means. I had made up my mind to that as soon as the word "dance" was mentioned; the "kids" would have driven me crazy in short order, had I remained with Buck. One by one the mothers of the hilarious "brats" came in ; then we all got our wraps on. I expected, of course, we were going to ride, but no, the whole party walked. My hostess took her own babe with her. She would leave the hired man in charge of her neighbors' children, but was too wise to entrust her own child with him and the lamp. When we reached our destination I was introduced to four grangers playing "seven up," and told to make my- self comfortable. "Choose your woman, Professor," said Mr. Cornbin, "an' show 'em how you kin manage yer feet on a waxed floor." Sure enough, the floor was waxed. The garret was converted into a veritable ball-room. Two rows of up- right scantling crossed in the center of the room and propped the snow-laden roof, and through these uprights, some twenty inches apart, glided the blue jeans and overalls, calico and cambric skirts, with as much energy and pride as might be squeezed out of a city cotillion. The fiddlers and caller were mounted on a board platform 99 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK at one end of the "hall." They sawed away and shouted, and wore out more enthusiasm, catgut and shoe-leather than I ever saw wasted in the same length of time. There were all sorts of dances and dancers. I myself tackled the Virginia reel, Lancers, Quadrille, Caledonia, Polka, Hornpipe, Mazourka, a Spanish dance, the Irish Washwoman, and several others. The favorite music was "Pussy in the Rainbarrel ;" it served for a half dozen dif- ferent dances. I never liked the music a sort of wind- pipe or bagpipe which allowed no breathing-spell from start to finish. In my second dance I went off my feet, my head caught under the sloping roof, and the floor mas- ter had to knock my "pins" from under me to get me loose. There was one pretty girl there, and I tried to engage her for a dance, but every time I approached her she shied away ; at last, she got used to my odd appearance, and al- lowed me to clasp her to my bosom in a waltz. Just as we got started, the dance closed, and the caller shouted to choose partners for a square dance. My pretty partner agreed to dance it with me ; I could see several of her ad- mirers looking "daggers" at me. "Forward; right and left!" sounded the call. "Lead yer partners round the outside !" I thought the caller meant the outside of the house, and started down stairs, but was soon stopped, and the call explained to me. "Alaman left! grand right and left! half way and back change partners, and four ladies salute! balance again and swing the opposite lady !" That succession of calls completely demoralized me. I got all mixed up, and soon found myself clasping an up- right instead of somebody's partner, and concluded my 100 AT A COUNTRY DANCE part by violently sitting on the floor. After that I con- tented myself with looking on. Although the two prettiest features of the ball the Minuette and the St. Vitus Dance had not yet taken place, I felt more than satisfied, and bidding my friends good morning, set out for the Cornbin domicile. After a late breakfast of tea, bread, salt pork and fried potatoes, I started for Geneva. All through New York State people had supposed on seeing me that "Uncle Tom's Cabin" had "busted," and that Marks, the lawyer, was homeward bound with his mule. In Ohio, the curious countrymen inquired if I was on my way to join Maine's Circus, at its winter quarters, Geneva. Mac, as well as I, was quite sensitive over these inquiries. Through the driving snow-storm we managed to reach a hotel where, after a noon meal, I led my ani- mals on to Madison. When a half mile yet to the village we passed the Old Woman's Home, which I visited the following morning, Sunday. The man who planned it was a genius. The rooms of the commodious building were fitted up to suit the whims of the most fastidious fossils of second child- hood. Paintings and plaster bas-reliefs of old women knitting, washing false teeth, and sewing, decorated the walls. Sewing baskets, crazy quilts, dolls, and paper sol- diers were strewn about the rooms. The most novel of all departments was the dental and hirsute Check Room, where the old ladies checked their false teeth, wigs, cork legs, etc., when they happened in disuse. A little brass ring containing a number is given the owner of the ar- ticle to be checked, so that it may be preserved in good condition, and not get lost. Incidents are cited where very old women, during intervals of temporary aberra- tion, have got their checks mixed and tried to wear an 101 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK extra set of teeth, or an additional wig; and it is said that once a woman with two normal legs endeavored to hook on a cork leg. But when we consider the great age of the inmates, such cases are quite pardonable. From the next town, Painesville, we went to the home of President Garfield. Mr. R , who had the care of the handsome residence, invited me in to rest, and sup. I was shown all of the beautiful and interesting rooms. In the spacious hall hung a large photograph of Milan Ca- thedral, and in the upstairs hall, a portrait of Washington and an engraving of Lincoln. In the General's favorite study, I was permitted to sit in the large easy chairs where he had found comfort after his mental labors and inspiration for his speeches and debates, and regarded the bric-a-brac and furniture with more awe and reverence than I had ever felt upon visiting the homes of the the great. Two miles beyond Mentor is Kirtland, once a thriving Mormon camp. It is situated at considerable distance from the direct route to Cleveland, and it took us over a distressingly muddy road, and through such intense dark- ness that I soon lost my bearings. Seeing the gleam of a lamp in a window, I went up to the house to inquire the way to the tavern. The owner insisted on our being his guests, and I felt very grateful. My animals were as- signed to a shed, and I was invited to a hot supper, which my good hostess hastily prepared. I soon discovered that I was among spiritualists, as well as Latter Day Saints. My Host, Mr. J , was an elder- ly man, and well informed. He said much about Joseph Smith. He himself was born in Kirtland some eighty years back, and had often listened to the preachings of the founder of Mormonism. In those days Kirtland con- tained about 2,000 inhabitants ; but all that remained of 1 02 AT A COUNTRY DANCE the town are two stores, a shop, and a dozen or so little houses, half of which I found to be occupied by itinerant preachers of the "Latter Day Saints." My host said he firmly believed in Spiritualism, and dwelt at length on communication between the material and spiritual world. Finally he strode to my chair and felt of my cranium. "Why Prof.," said he enthusiastically, "you are a medium yourself. All you require is a little study of the science. Spiritualism is merely the science of material- ism." I shivered audibly. "And do you mean to tell me," I said, "that you believe honestly you can see the ghost, or the spirit of the de- parted?" "I know it," Mr. J returned, emphatically. "I have felt the spirit of the departed. One night at a seance I saw my little step-daughter who had been dead many years. I heard her call to me "papa." She put her arms round my neck, and kissed me on the lips. Then she dis- appeared. Of course, I know it ! I saw her, I heard her, I felt her ; isn't that proof enough ?" I told my host that he was certainly convinced, but I wasn't. I then bade him and his wife good night, and was ushered to my chamber. There I pulled the clothes over my head, and tried to attribute my shivers to the cold. When I awoke next morning and searched in my grip for my razor and found in place of it a "Toledo Blade," I began to suspect some supernatural being had robbed me. Before leaving Kirtland my host persuaded me to be shown the famous Temple and the house in which the Prophet, Joseph Smith, lived. The Temple of the Latter Day Saints there standing, is probably the only church of three stories in the country. I climbed to the tower 103 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK that surmounts it, and got a fine view of the spot where once stood the house of Brigham Young. The arrange- ment of the inner temple was quite novel. At both ex- tremities of the main hall, or nave, was a series of four rows of white-painted seats, lettered in gilt to represent the several orders of the Priests of Melchizedek. Long rows of rings hung from the ceiling, crossing each other in places, from which were once suspended curtains to di- vide the nave into rooms for the sessions of the different orders, and in the white square pillars might still be seen the rollers and pulleys with which the cur- tains were drawn. Said Mr. J , "I have heard Joseph Smith shout from that pulpit and tell how the Mormons would yet build a temple still larger, to answer their future needs, and some day in the future another one a mile square; that they were the chosen people, and would send mission- aries to convert all Europe, after which they proposed to sweep in America to a man. Soon after that proclamation he moved West with a large following. There they re- organized, and the new order assumed the title of 'The Latter Day Saints/ " Traveling that day was most disheartening in more ways than one. The roads were awful, my exchequer extremely low. Fortunately, on the way to Willoughby a farmer offered to feed me and my partner, provided we would help him saw some wood. Mac supervised the work. After we sawed off a sec- tion of a log, the farmer handed me the axe, but soon took it from me, saying that I couldn't chop any better than I could saw. Then we ate. 104 'Mac supervised the work. 'Only time I got ahead of him." CHAPTER XIII. As Bud bestrode the donkey the cheers of the throng rose, but above the tumult he could hear the North End jeering at him. Much Pomp and Several Circumstances. From Willoughby we went to Cleveland. My route through the beautiful city lay along one of the finest resi- dence streets in America the famous Euclid avenue. From there we marched to Superior street, where cheers greeted us on every hand. The papers had her- alded my advent, and as in the other towns and cities, the newspaper artists had taxed their imaginations to picture Pod and Mac. We two were engaged to appear at the Star Theatre Wednesday evening, and when I rode out on to the stage the house shook with laughter and cheers. I made a short address and announced that I would sell photos of Mac A'Rony and his master at the door. That theatre put me way ahead financially. Thursday morning I called on the Mayor, Mark Hanna and Senator Garfield, and added the autographs of all three to my al- bum. Mr. Garfield invited me to attend the weekly din- ner and reception of the "Beer and Skittles Club," that evening. I went and enjoyed myself. Next day I reached the village of Bedford by 7 :oo P. M., only making thirteen miles ; and the following night I put up at a cozy inn at Cuyahoga Falls. We three had covered eighteen miles that day ; it seemed twice the dis- tance. I was almost frozen. All day I held my once frost-bitten nose in my woolen mittens, and my ears were 105 A PECULIAR COLD DAY wrapped in a silk muffler. In the morning a man hailed me: "Cold day!" "Yes, pretty chilly," I returned, politely. A half mile on a farmer opened the door and yelled : "Pretty cold, hain't it, Professor?" "You bet," said Pod, icily. Some distance further a fat German drove by in a gig and said : "It vash cold don't it ?" '' 'Course it's cold !" I answered, acridly. A mile beyond two men reminded me it was a very win- try day. Then a woman drove past and tossed me the comfort- ing reminder : "Don't you find it awfully cold ?" I did not reply to the last two. Twenty minutes later a boy, from a cozy home, yelled to me. I had passed to some distance, and did not un- derstand. It sounded like, "Won't you come in and warm, and have lunch." I hesitated a moment in the biting wind, then retraced my steps and called to the lad: "What's that you said?" "It's a cold day!" yelled the scamp. I was mad enough to unload my Winchester. But I didn't; I only tucked my half- frozen nose in my mits, rubbed my ears, and continued my journey, like an ice- covered volcano. A mile beyond a wagon with a family in it passed me, and the man said, "Cold, my friend." At dusk a farmer inquired, "Hasn't it been a pretty frigid day ?" The human volcano was now ready to burst. So when a man and woman warmly clad drove by in a buggy, with top up, I resolved to get even. I shouted several times before the rig stopped. A fur-clad head stuck out to one side, and a male voice called : "Can't hear ye ; come nearer." I ambled up, put a foot on the hub of a wheel, and said, "I simply want to say, it's a cold day." 106 A PECULIAR COLD DAY "You ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !" As soon as he had finished, I said, by way of civil explanation : "My dear sir, do you know, a hundred peo- ple have stopped me to-day and told me it is cold. I have tramped nearly twenty miles without stopping to warm or eat; and I resolved to let the next fellow have the same dose I have been taking half-hourly all day. Now, if you are satisfied that it is a cold day, I will bid you good night." With this I returned to my companions, somewhat warmer physically, but cooler in spirit. The hotel in Cuyahoga Falls received us most hospit- ably; I never shall forget the kindnesses of its landlady. The village dates back to pioneer days. It is built on the hunting grounds of the old Cuyahoga Indians. Monday, March ist, at 12:30 P. M., we arrived in Canton. The citizens expected my arrival, and Market street teemed with excitement. In front of two hotels, a block apart, stood their proprietors waving hats and arms, and calling to me to be their guest. I was puzzled to know which invitation to accept. While deliberating, one of the landlords approached, and taking my arm, led me to his comfortable hostelry, where he royally entertained me and my animals. The pageant that celebrated the departure of William McKinley to the seat of Government was a fair estimate of the regard in which his fellow-citizens held him. Canton did him honor. I witnessed the leave-taking at his house, his ride to the train in the coach drawn by four greys un- der escort of a band, and heard him deliver his farewell address from the rear platform of his private car. I spent Wednesday night in Massillon, and next morn- ing returned to Canton, to take some interior protographs 107 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK of McKinley's home. I was successful, beyond my hopes and expectations, securing fine pictures of his study and parlor. The President's inauguration at Washington called forth a deafening demonstration. Cannon boomed, steam whistles shrieked, and the citizens shouted and hurrahed, and I was glad Mac was not with me to add his salute. I returned to Massillon, and at 4 :oo P. M., set out for Dalton over the muddiest, stickiest red-clay roads I ever encountered. I saw a meadow-lark on the first of March ; this day I heard blue-birds and robins singing gaily. It looked as though spring had come to stay. I expected that day to reach Dalton, only eight miles distant, but the mud prevented me. I put my foot in it the genuine red and yellow mixture of real Ohio clay. It was so deep, and sticky, and liberally diluted with thawed frost that once I was compelled to crawl along the top of a rail fence two hundred feet and more, and drag my jackass. At dusk I had covered only three miles. Then I sought lodgings. A store loomed into view shortly ; I was elated. According to the sign over the entrance, the younger generation was the ruling power. It read: "Hezekiah Brimley and Father." I made for Hez. He said the town hadn't reached the hotel stage of develop- ment yet, but that he would gladly take me in, provided I'd sleep with his clerk in the garret. I found the store full of loungers, who patronized the chairs, soap and starch boxes, mackerel kits and counter, forming a silent circle round a towering stove in the cen- ter. The village treasurer wore a "boiled shirt" and brass collar-buttons, but no collar or coat. His companions were generally attired in flannel shirts of different hues and patterns, plush caps, which might be formed into sev- eral shapes and styles, and felt boots encased in heavy 108 A PECULIAR COLD DAY overshoes. These rural men eyed me with suspicion until I mentioned Mac A'Rony. Then there was a rush to the door. As it swung open, in leaped my great dog ; at once the crowd surged back to the stove. "Does yer dorg bite ?" came several queries in a bunch. "No," I said. "He has killed a bull, chewed up a ram, made Thanks-giving mince-meat of several dogs, chased a pig up a tree, and only this morning ate two chickens and a duck and chased a farmer into his hay loft.. But he doesn't bite." My statement had a sensational effect on the assembly, who, one by one, sneaked out of the door, leaving Hez and his odd guest alone. As soon as the junior member, Hez's father, came in, Hez took my animals to the shed and fed them, and told me to help myself to the best in the store. "Ye know what ye want ; I don't." Hez said he was sorry he was just out of butter and bread. I was sorry, too. Wishing a light supper, I se- lected one yeast cake (warranted 104 per cent, pure), a pint of corned oysters (light weight), some crackers, and leaf lard, to take the place of butter, and a cake of bitter chocolate. I left a few things unmolested ; such as soap, cornstarch, cloves, baking-powder and stove-polish. My assorted supper went down all right until I tackled the chocolate. Chocolate is a favorite beverage of mine ; besides, I wanted a hot drink. To be good, chocolate must be well dissolved. No pot was to be had, save a flower- pot with a hole in the bottom. A great idea popped into my head. I would drink chocolate on the instalment plan. Did you ever try it ? If not, don't let your curiosity get the better of you. Chocolate belongs to the bean family, and the bean is a very treacherous thing chocolate bean, castor-oil bean, pork-bean, and all kinds. I first ate the cake of chocolate, 109 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK then some sugar, and drank two dippersful of hot water, then shook myself. That mixture might suit my stomach, I thought, but it doesn't delight my palate. I felt I had eaten a heavy meal unwittingly, and sat down to digest it. I hadn't sat long before I felt myself swelling. Something within was sizzling and brewing and steaming; gas and steam choked me. I was sure there was going to be a demonstration in my honor that I had not bargained for. The yeast cake came to mind ; then I knew the cause. My body grew warm, and finally I was so hot that I had to go to the garret and take a cold bath ; after which I excused myself to the clerk, and went to bed, and dreamed I was being cremated alive. Next morning, on invitation of the superintendent, I visited the Pocock Coal Mine, situated close by,- and had an enjoyable trip through its subterranean passages. no CHAPTER XIV. This day Dame Nature seemed in love : The lusty sap began to move ; Fresh juice did stir th' embracing Vines, And birds had drawn their Valentines. The Complete Angler. It was noon when I started for Dalton, three miles away, and night before we arrived there. The mud oozed into my overshoes, and I made Mac carry me and my grip. . I delivered a lecture, whose receipts about de- frayed my expenses, and was presented a pair of rubber boots by a man frank enough to admit the boots didn't fit him. We spent the Sabbath in Wooster. While strolling down its main street with my dog, I suddenly came upon a captive coyote, which defied Don, who ran off in a fright. That monster canine fell considerably in my es- timation. I wondered what he would do when our camps on the plains were surrounded with a hundred of these yelping beasts. Wooster, rather a pretty town, is the seat of a univer- sity. The word "seat" reminds me that I needed a pair of trousers. The rainy season had set in, and I wanted a reserve pair. Otherwise, when my only pair got soaked I must go to bed until they dried. I walked into a Jewish clothier's, and, selecting a pair of corduroys, inquired, "How much?" "Two dollahs ond a hollaf," said the merchant. He in- formed me that in Mansfield the same "pants" would cost in ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK $3, in Fort Wayne $5, in Chicago $7, etc." I said that according to his way of reckoning I could have purchased the same kind of trousers in Dalton for $2, in Massillon for $i, and in Canton for a song. My argument stag- gered him, but he soon recovered, and showed me a great colored picture, repiesenting a pair of cordu- roys, one leg chained to an elephant, the other hooked to a locomotive, and both powers working in opposite direc- tions to part those wonderful trousers. "Just vot you vant vor riding a jockoss; can't bull abart ; vy, my dear sir, it's a bargain." That was a strong argument ; I bought the "pants." Passing on through Jeromeville and Miffiin, we reached Mansfield, the home of Senator Sherman; and sixteen miles beyond Galion. That lovely spring day, with the birds chirping merrily in the trees, my pilgrimage seemed unusually irksome. Next day was my birthday, and I re- solved to make it a holiday. I enjoyed a day of recreation, so did my donkey and dog, and in the evening delivered a lecture on my travels before a campaign league at its club house. On Friday morning I started for the town of Marion, twenty-six miles away. Many citizens of Galion as- sembled to see us off. Mac and Don were impatient for the journey, and amused the crowd by pulling each other's whiskers. I had boasted of having trained Mac A'Rony to follow me. When I set out with a wave of my hat and a beckon to my partner, he responded promptly, and for some distance verified my boasts. He never before had acted so tractable. Suddenly, a cheer sounded in the dis- tance, and, turning, I beheld that asinine rascal making back to town on a hop-skip-and-jump. How the crowd did yell! It was a circus for them. Mac certainly had rested too long and eaten too many oats. The only time 112 I BARGAIN FOR EGGS I got ahead of him was when I photographed him. I did not upbraid him, but when I readjusted my scattered belongings and whirled the whip over his head, he moved forward with utmost humility. At Caledonia, I took advantage of the farmers' mar- ket day and sold a large number of photos at a good price. I could not appear anywhere on the street without some rural stranger stopping me to shake hands and purchase a chromo. Saturday evening I lectured to a crowded house. It was 4 130 P. M. Sunday before I started to Kenton, twenty-seven miles beyond. When nearly there, I passed a small farm whose rural incumbent came to the fence to question me. "Coin' ter show to-night?" he inquired. "Nope," I answered, and kept Mac A'Rony moving. "Hold a minute ! Be ye travelin' er goin' somewhere ?" the man persisted, as he leaned over the fence-rail. He interested me. "When you see people walking," I returned, bringing my donkey to halt, "you can take it for granted, they are going somewhere." The lonesome-looking farmer was the first I had met who was neither busy at work nor whittling. Gray locks fell wantonly over his ears. His faded coat, blue over- alls and felt boots exhibited signs of a persistent conflict with farm implements, hooking cows, kicking horses, and a rich clayey soil. A cow and two hogs eyed my donkey and dog with contempt through the bars of the barnyard fence. I observed that all the buildings, including the house, were of logs. The man, judging from his prop- erty, didn't have a dollar in the world, but had great ex- pectations. He asked if I had any books to sell. I had one, a copy of a volume I had published, several of which 113 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK I had sold on my journey at a good price. I had lost fifteen valuable minutes talking with the man, and re- solved to get even. While wondering what I could take in exchange for the book, a hen cackled. "Certainly. I have a book to sell," I said. "How much is it?" "Dollar and a half." "I'd buy it," said the farmer, longingly, "but I hain't got the price." "Have you got any eggs ?" I asked. "Dozens of 'em. How many kin ye suck at a sittin' ?" "I don't wish to suck them ; I want them to sell," I re- plied. "How much do you ask a dozen ?" "Six cents," he answered. "Well," I said, "I will trade the book for ten dozen. Is that a bargain ? It looks like a cinch for you." "I meant a book about yer travels t' San Francisco," he explained, as he looked far away. "Well, that's just what it is," I returned, bound to make a sale, or die in the attempt. "Tells all about them : how robbers shot at me in York State, bull chased me down a well in Pennsylvania, dog worried me up a tree in Illinois, cowboys rescued me from Indians in the Rocky Mountains, grizzly bear hugged " "Whew," ejaculated the man. "Thet's what I want. Ye got yer book aout purty soon. Wait till I go and fetch th' eggs." And the apparently ignorant man disappeared, soon to re-appear with a paper sack full of hen fruit. "Fresh ?" I inquired, as I tied the fragile bundle to the saddle-horn. "Couldn't be fresher," was the positive answer. "Some laid terday, some yisterday, but most on 'em ter-morrer." Then observing my arched brows, he added, "Yaas yer thunk I was a know-nuthin', and I let yer think so," 'cause 114 I BARGAIN FOR EGGS yer need 'couragement. And I say agin, most on 'em was laid ter-morrer, and th' best on 'em is rooster eggs." I delivered the book, feeling the farmer had somewhat the better of me after all, and came to the conclusion that because a man looks primitive, and lives in primitive style, he is not necessarily of primitive intellect. Mac joined in a pleasant adieu to Mr. Bosh, and we sauntered on, I, behind, deeply absorbed in thought. We hadn't proceeded a half mile, however, before Mac shied at a bunch of hay, and ran plumb against a rail-fence ; in a jiffy that jackass looked like an egg-nog. There is no word coined to express my eggs-ass-peration. When I caught the scapegrace, it required a half hour to make him and the saddle look the least respectable. I stopped at the next farm house, where a windmill sup- plied me with the water to wash the outfit, and I signed a pledge never to have anything to do with shell games of any kind. They always get the better of you. CHAPTER XV. Every one who has petted a favorite donkey will remember many traits of its mental capacities; for, as in the case of the domestic fool, there is far more knavery than folly about the creature. Wood's Natural History. It was a sunny spring day when I arrived in Kenton. After supper with a young physician, on his invitation, I retired, and next day set out for Ada, a village sixteen miles away. Toward evening, being tired and almost without funds, I sat down to converse with a farmer who was husking corn. He soon became interested in my trip, and said if I would help him husk awhile he would feed me and my animals. I gladly consented; Mac A'Rony and Don lent their assistance, the donkey soon losing his appetite. After a delicious supper with the farmer's fam- ily, I hastened on, reaching Ada long after dark. Ada is the seat of a Normal School, which is the seat of a large number of other seats. Everybody seemed to be much concerned about the great fistic bout to take place in Carson City that day; the i/th of March. It was "St. Patrick's Day in the morning," with the weather threaten- ing, when I started for Lima. My coat was decorated with cabbage and lettuce leaves and paper imitations of shamrock, and I looked like an animated vegetable gar- den. Finally it rained ; and the road became a mire. I had just finished a heated argument on the Carson fight, and began to question the story of how St. Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland, when I suddenly found 116 GYPSY GIRL TELLS FORTUNE myself on the ground. And I saw the streak of daylight Mac threatened to kick into my brain. An old man tried to drive a colt past my strange-look- ing outfit. I called to him to hold his horse by the bit until I could lead my donkey into the field. But no, he could handle the colt, or any other horse, and I should mind my own business. On the rig came a few yards nearer, when in the twinkling of an eye the colt whirled and upset the buggy with its boastful driver. The man was not hurt ; but somewhat dazed. Several farmers soon arrived and were loud in their abuse, saying Mac and I had no right on the highway. It was an effort for the donkey to keep his mouth shut. I replied, civilly, that I was sorry the thing occurred, and explained how I had warned the stranger. Then I whipped up my unjustly abused partner, and left the old man pulling his beard thoughtfully in the midst of the sympathetic group. All day I strode far in advance of my donkey and led untrained, untamed, and frightened horses past. Next day being stormy, I devoted the morning to writ- ing my newspaper article and answering some urgent let- ters ; then, failing to arrange for a lecture, I left Lima for Delphos, and tramped fifteen miles in mud and rain with- out lunch. We spent Saturday night in Van Wert, and Sunday af- ternoon resumed the journey in sunshine, people crowd- ing their front windows and doorways to see us leave town. We had not proceeded far when I met an odd trio who had run half a mile across lots to speak to me. One boy had a twisted foot ; another, a hand minus five or six fingers; and the third acknowledged that as soon as he caught sight of us he lost his head. Considering their 117 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK crippled condition, I thought they deserved credit for such activity. It was eight miles to Convoy. There was no bottom to the road. Seeking a footing along the fence, I ground in- numerable land crabs into the mud, while the peepers in the swampy clearings piped their dismal music. At dusk we waded into the village where a curious throng awaited the sensation of the day. And there we spent the night. The nearer I approached the Indiana border, the more impoverished appeared the farms and their struggling proprietors. Every other farm-house was the primitive log-cabin, and the barns and outbuildings generally tallied with the house. A thunderstorm awoke me at day-break; the prospect for my day's tramp was most dismal. After walking six miles, I stopped to talk with a party of gypsies, in camp. Presently a black-eyed gypsy girl issued from a heap of bedding under a tree, and inquired if Mac A'Rony was an ostrich. Her heavy jet-black hair fell in a mass over her shoulders, and her sparkling eyes did their level best to enchant me, as she asked to tell my fortune. "How much?" I asked. Her grizzled sire said fifty cents ; the daughter cor- rected him, saying one dollar. That was too steep for me. I gave Mac the rein and proceeded some distance when the girl called to me, "Twenty-five cents! Come back!" This was an alluring proposition, and I returned. At once dismissing the bystanders, she reached over the fence for my hand, told me to place a quarter in it, then to close and open it. I no sooner obeyed than the coin disap- peared, and the gypsy began in a charming manner, as follows : "That line shows you will live to a good old age. You are to enjoy your best days in the future. Understand n8 GYPSY GIRL TELLS FORTUNE me ? If your pocket was as big as your heart you would make many others happy. Understand me ?" She surely must mean creditors, I thought. "Yes," I answered. "Shows it in your face," said she. "You have for a long time disliked your business" (that was no lie), "and want to change it. Understand me? You make friends easily, and wherever you go you are invited to come again. Understand me?" I nodded. "Shows it in your face." I began to think she was reading my countenance instead of my hand. "Are you married ?" she asked. "No, but want to be," I replied. ' "Shows it in your face," said she. "A widow lady is in love with you. She has written you, and you will get her letter soon. Her name is Sarah. Understand me ?" "I do not," said I; "I know but one woman named Sarah. Heaven help me if she is after me !" "Shut your hand now, and make a wish," said the girl. I did as she bade, and wished long and hard. "Now open," said she. Her black eyes seemed to pierce my very soul. "You wish to make fame and for- tune. Understand me?" "True, I do," I said to her ; that's just what every man wishes, I said to myself. Then she continued : You will make fame and fortune in the business you are now in. Shows it in your face." I wasn't satisfied with that prediction ; I preferred the fortune to be in my pocket. "A kiss is awaiting you from a black-haired girl within two weeks' time. She loves you. A lot of girls want you, but they can't have you. Understand me ?" "I confess that I don't quite," I answered. "But I wish those poor girls did." And I looked real serious. "Shows it in your face," she repeated. That fortune 119 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK teller puzzled me. The quarter's worth of seance at an end, I plodded on toward the Hoosier country with my mute comrades, wondering how much of the fortune would come true. Soon afterward we got out of the mud area and came to a hard, smooth, broken-stone road. I stopped my donkey and sat down to take off my rubber boots. Just when I got the first shoe on, Mac began to move down the level turnpike. I called, "Whoa, Mac ! Huh ! ! You long-eared Mephisto!" The jackass paid no heed, but galloped on, shaking his head and kicking up his heels merrily with the dog in front of him, barking as if he en- joyed Mac's practical joke. By this time I was speeding after the runaway, a boot on one foot, a shoe on the other, and chased a half mile before I caught him. Then I led him back for my footgear. Two miles beyond we again struck mud, thick and deep. Observing a little mound covered with long dried grass, I sat down again to change my footgear. Mac turned and eyed me mischievously, and wobbled his ears, then nodded to Don. I was so absorbed with the idea that he intended to lead me another chase that I failed to hear an ominous sound emanating from underneath my seat. Not until something semed to burn me did I rise to the occasion, and light out, this time stocking foot, but making less speed through the black and sticky highway than on my former run. Something less than a million bees swarmed about my head. I ran! Oh, how I ran! And I would be running still, perhaps, had not a farmer seen me and knocked down the swarm with a section of a rail fence. I was quite out of breath. The hero had only spared my life for future tortures. 120 "I scrutinized his hat inquisitively." GYPSY GIRL TELLS FORTUNE After considerable search, I found boots and shoes, but failed to see either dog or donkey. Putting on my boots, I hung my shoes on the fence, and set out on the trail of the fugitives, which appeared to have gone into the brush. I waded into the thicket, calling Don all the time, and at last was rewarded. He leaped at me delightedly, and barked, and tugged at my trouser legs, and piloted me to the terrified donkey which I found tangled in a mass of wild raspberry bushes, his head tucked between his fore- legs, and his back doubled up like a cat at bay. There were no bees on Mac. That was a hot experience, for a raw March day. I plodded on through the mire to the house, whose proprie- tor had come to my rescue. The dooryard was filled with hives. "Regular bee ranch," I remarked, pleasantly, though I burned uncomfortably. "Yas. Right smart business," the man returned. "You're right ; bees do a smart business." "Lived on 'em nigh ten years." "You must find them a hot diet !" I said. "I lived on a nest of them less than half a minute and nearly burned up." "I reckon so," he replied with a chuckle. "I saw yer scorchin'." It was 2 130 P. M. when we crossed the state line. The first sight that greeted my eyes in Indiana was a flock of Ohio geese just ahead of us, being driven by a hoosier. "Fine drove of geese you've got there," I said to the man. "Yaw," he answered. "But Ohio geese is peculiar. Gooses won't run with th' ganders.." "No?" I queried. "What's the reason they won't?" 121 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK "Wall, jest th' way they's built. Won't run jest fly, er waddle." "What most all geese do, don't they?" I asked, much amused. "Yaw," reiterated the hoosier, grinning; "jest fly, or waddle." 122 CHAPTER XVI. Get money; still get money, boy, no matter by what means. Ben Jonson. Indiana swamps, woodland, corn fields and log cabins were not unlike those of Ohio. On arriving in New Haven two hours after dark, I was quite tired out, and I think my companions were, too. We had tramped all day without dinner over a road alternately hard and muddy. I would have stopped to rest at a small place called Zulu, but the name sounded so cannibalistic that I looked to my firearms and hurried past. Next day I registered in Fort Wayne. After calling on the genial Mayor, I set out to inspect the city and see what my chances were, for I found the outlook for my delivering a lecture discouraging, and, although for sev- eral days I had barely made expenses, did not attempt money-making there. Fort Wayne is notable for its great car-shops and the Indiana School for the Feeble Minded. In the morning I boarded a car and rode a mile and a half out of town to the latter. The large building of brick and terra cotta, viewed in its expansive setting of well-groomed lawn and gay parterres, presented a picture of architectural beauty. The superintendent welcomed me cordially, although it was not visitors' day, and graciously showed me through the interesting institution. Its neatness, the clock-work regularity with which the several departments are con- ducted, and the great variety and detail of the mode of 123 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK instruction given the 550 idiotic inmates were a revelation to me. Many of the advanced scholars were making and mending their clothes and bedding ; something I couldn't do, I fear. The idiots are carefully attended day and night. Never before did I see a natural-born bald-headed person. Here was one, a funny-looking girl, and I was told she had several brothers, sisters, parents, uncles and aunts, all bald from birth a distinguished family indeed. I wondered whether her disappointment was as great as that of Pye Pod, who once possessed a head of hair, then lost it. I have heard it said people who never had money know not its value, and presume its so with their heirs. For mortals deprived of reason the place is surprisingly quiet. The halls are tiled, the floors of the rooms are waxed, and all are so slippery that the inmates are un- able to romp, which is probably the reason for such still- ness. Whenever they gain sense enough to be boisterous like sane and healthy children, they instantly fall on their craniums on the polished floor and are rendered insensible. I was interested in a group of little girls who were be- ing taught a game. One wee child with a big head big- ger than I had ever been accredited with was sitting in an invalid's chair with her head resting in an iron prop, because it was too heavy for one body to support in those hard times, and seated around in ordinary chairs were epileptic, paralytic, cross-grained idiots, etc., so far ad- vanced toward health and sanity by careful training as to play a game. While the great object of this school is to provide the unfortunates with a comfortable home and prevent inter- marriage, a few are graduated every year and transferred to the large farm owned by the institution. I heard the Feeble Minded Brass Band play; its music I thought quite equal to that of many normal bands I had heard. 124 ALL THE DEVILS ARE HERE The birthdays of great men (excepting that of Pythagoras Pod), are celebrated, and birthday parties given. The superintendent drove me back to town and urged me to fetch my donkey out to entertain the idiots, and invited me to dine with him. So not telling Mac about the place, I rode him to the Home, where I found my host and his assistants ready to receive us. "Shylock there will assist you," said the superintendent, pointing to a hump-backed inmate. When we got Mac to the hall entrance the circus began. Two attendants helped Shylock boost the donkey while I guided his head, and we managed to pitch the beast headlong into the slippery hall, where he landed three times in succession first, on his knees and heels, second, on his tail, and third, on his back. I think he imagined he was on ice, for he lay perfectly still, afraid to move. The hall floor was cleared, but a bunch of idiotic heads stuck out of every doorway, and peals of hyenish laugh- ter reverberated through the building. Finally we got Mac on all fours, and I rode him slowly down the hall amid the hysterical shouts and screams of the physically strong, if feeble-minded children, and talking, yelling and commanding attendants, all of which so frightened my sensitive mount that he squatted down on the floor, rolled over on his side, and brayed. Did you ever hear an ass bray in any confined space ? It is awful ! These un- manageable pupils and their overtaxed preceptors fairly went mad, while Mac yelled, "Hell is empty, and all the devils are here!" The hall was now a swarming, uncontrollable mass of unbridled lunacy in human mould; romping, tumbling, fainting, and taxing the united strength and strategy of the surprised officials to bring order out of chaos. The jackass went into a veritable fit, kicked the plaster off the 125 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK walls, shattered an incandescent light globe, nearly rolled on top of an idiot who took him for a pussy cat, and brayed himself hoarse. Suddenly he leaped to his feet and ran akiting down the tiled hall floor until it turned ; then he tried to turn, and flopping off his feet, came down on his vertebrae. As soon as we could get him out of doors, I handed him over to Shylock and went into dinner with the laughing superintendent. I never want another ex- perience like that. The disappointing feature about the show was that probably not one idiot would remember it over to the next day. The following morning my party set out over a black muddy road. Thrifty looking farm-houses, many of them of brick, were scattered along our route, and sheep and cattle basked in the sunshine on the south side of strawstacks, often attracting wistful glances from my long-eared partner. Arriving at Churubusco, I put up at a comfortable hotel near the railroad where the noisy pass- ing trains kept me awake most of the night, and resumed the journey next day, after lunch. Some four miles beyond the village we came to a new iron bridge, without its approaches filled in. No work- men were about. A single two-by-twelve plank was stretched from the bank to the bridge at both ends to en- able people to cross, but evidently quadrupeds were sup- posed to ford or swim the stream. I tarried some mo- ments thinking what best to do, when presently a country- man happened by, and helped me carry a plank from the roadside to widen the bridge approach for my donkey to walk. What an ass Mac was ! He attempted to walk the planks sideways, and consequently fell into the deep miry hole, almost into the stream. I feared he had broken his back, but he escaped injury.. The farmer helped me uncinch 126 ALL THE DEVILS ARE HERE the saddle and get Mac up the steep bank on to the road ; then we transferred the plank at the other end of the bridge to that end and made a three-plank foot-bridge. Finally we got Mac on to the bridge proper, and by trans- ferring the three planks to the other end I managed to overcome the obstacle, and proceeded on the journey, af- ter the loss of two hours. My hat had anticipated the animal into the hole and was flattened by his weight; thereafter it supported a gable roof. Two hours after dark we came to a barn that looked roomy and airy, and as the next town beyond Wolf Lake was so far away, I concluded we might as well take pos- session of it for the night, The barn door wasn't locked, so I led my animals in, and struck a match. No horses were visible, but a box stall contained a cow and a calf. Prowling about with lighted matches, I discovered a buck sheep, hiding behind his wool in fear of my bij{ dog. I found a measure of grain for Mac and assigned Don to a pile of hay near the door, then tucked myself in some straw and drew my mackintosh over my shoulders, pre- pared for a night's rest. I was almost asleep when the calf bawled ; again when on the brink of Lethe, the sheep bleated. Suddenly my restless donkey kicked a board off the side of the barn and set Don to barking. I yelled, "Shut up !" Again the dog barked. The next second he made a leap in the dark, fol- lowed by a loud commotion, and at once the atmosphere indicated plainly what kind of an animal the dog was after. I couldn't get out of the door without running the lines, which seemed perilous indeed. Mac kicked and brayed as he never had before, and my dog was running round the barn trying to get away from the atmosphere or something. And I was as busy as the rest endeavoring to bury myself in the straw. Presently the dog and the 127 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK buck sheep went to settling some misunderstanding, fight- ing like demons. The cow and calf then began to bellow in a discordant duet, and fearing lest any moment the cow would break the bars of her stall and enter the gen- eral fray, I dug all the harder in the straw. All at once, amid the obscured exciting scene and above the tumult, I detected an agonizing groan, and suspected Don was squeezing the life out of the sheep or the calf or the nuisance; but when it was all over and I heard the vic- tim gasping in its death throes, it was plain that my dog had shaken all the strength out of our unwelcomed guest. It was impossible for me to go asleep in that great, airy barn. I crawled out of the straw, and got my donkey out of doors as quickly as possible. As for Don, I felt indifferent about his joining our company, if he proposed to be familiar. On over the deserted highway we groped our way; the dog sneezing, coughing and rolling by the roadside, the half-suffocated jackass breathing hard and braying faintly for more air, and I soliloquizing vociferously about the existence of useless creatures. The wind blowing head on, I kept some distance ahead of Mac, and threw mud and stones at the dog, which now seemed particularly fond of his master, and continued my tirade against such obnoxious things as we had lately run against. "Every creature has some redeeming virtue," Mac A'Rony remarked after a while. "Above all things, don't belittle the skunk; he's the best financier in the world. He could go into the Stock Exchange and bull the market with one scent, and all the members together couldn't bear it." Mac was ever doling out to me unwelcome philos- ophy under trying circumstances. We reached Ligonier, a fine little town eleven miles away, the next day in time for one o'clock dinner. Since 128 ALL THE DEVILS ARE HERE entering Indiana I had not made expenses ; and my little reserve fund was vanishing. I had been told that Ligon- ier was a moneyed town, and its people liberal ; so I tried to secure a hall for a lecture, but failing, I spoke my piece in the street. Fully two hundred persons assembled to hear me, and encored enthusiastically. I concluded with passing my hat and collecting 32 cents. I talked again three hours later on the same spot, and was rewarded with a contribution of three cents. I think that collection for a lecture is a record-breaker. Goshen was reached next day by 5 P. M. The Scrip- ture speaks of Goshen as the land "flowing with milk and honey," but as I have been told, I am somewhat rusty on Biblical history. At any rate, I looked forward to replen- ish my depleted exchequer here, if I had to resort to ex- treme measures. Before retiring, I made up my mind I was going to be awfully disappointed with Goshen. The people of the section of country I had threaded from the Ohio boundary were incredulous, superstitious, penurious and suspicious, and those characteristics seemed to reach their superlative in that particular town. Monday dawned still and sunny an ideal day for hanging out clothes, but not shingles. I hung out mine, nevertheless; it was essential to Mac's welfare and to mine, to say nothing of the dog's. A drummer showed deep interest in my pilgrimage, and I asked him how he made out with his business. I had failed signally. He said he was glad I spoke to him on the subject, and drew me aside. "See all the thrifty-looking wagon-teams hitched on the two sides of the Court House Square ?" said he ; "See those squads of grangers standing around waiting for something to turn up? Well, every stranger is looked upon with suspicion. If he attempts to drum up a new 129 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK business among these fossils, he is immediately branded a 'fake.' After I had made two unsuccessful trips to this section, I vowed I would make the third one a success. A fake article sold by a first-class imitation drummer would just about catch these people. And ever since that day I have been unloading on them, and reaping a big harvest. Do you see the moral? I said I did, and thanked him. After lunch, during which I was accredited extremely thoughtful, I drew my friend aside and whispered, "I have it. I'll buy some axle- grease, and mix it with sweet oil, and sell it for eye salve !" The drummer eyed me as he might a wonderful character, felt of my head, and said I'd win out. At once I went to a drug-store for some pill boxes, blank labels and perfume, and to a hardware store for axle-grease and sweet oil ; then retired to my hotel room, and mixed my "Eye Elixir." As soon as my magic healing wares were ready to put on the market, I hunted up a sore-eyed tramp I had seen on the street that day, and promising him a percentage of my receipts, got him to assist me to get even with the folks he, too, had a grudge against. When I was fairly started on my eloquent talk about the virtues of "Eye Exixir," the tramp walked up with the quarter I had given him, and asked for "another box," saying to the crowd, he'd been looking for me all over the country and was glad to find me, for his eyes being almost well from using the first box began to get worse when he had no more salve, which was the only thing that ever helped his sore eyes. He said, if he could afford it, he would lay in a lot of it for future use, not knowing where he could get any more. Then a boy stepped up and bought a box, and an old woman bought two boxes, and the sales proceeded so fast when once started that I soon sold out, and took in $7, 130 ALL THE DEVILS AI^E HERE selling twenty-seven boxes of "Eye Elixir" besides the box I had sold to the tramp. I paid him one dollar for his services, with which he was delighted. This left me a net profit, after deducting the cost of making the salve, of $4.90, paying my expenses in town and leaving me a small balance. Then I cleared out of Goshen as quickly as possible. Oh, Shakespeare, how truthfully you said, "What fools these mortals be !" I resolved that when I should return East I would go by ship around the Horn, or by train across the .Isthmus, or else choose a trans-continental route which would give that section, honied and milked by Pye Pod, a wide berth. 131 CHAPTER XVII. Yankee Doodle came to town, Riding on a pony, Stuck a feather in his cap, And called him "Mac A'Rony." Old Ballad. A county poor-house on the road to Elkhart attracted my notice when I was about to pass it by. My outfit was recognized by a man raking the front lawn, and he urged me to visit the institution; so, thinking I might devote a quarter-hour to the cause of self-education, I tied Mac in the yard, and was shown through the dirtiest and most uninteresting building I ever inspected. Old, lazy-looking men, with empty heads in full hands, lounged about on benches, and several others in the hos- pital ward seemed to be trying harder to die than to live. One wrinkled but round-faced wench, with a soiled band- age round her ears and forehead, was smoking a well-sea- soned pipe in the kitchen while stirring mush. I was glad to see the house prison empty. Five minutes indoors suf- ficed me ; and, bidding my escort a hasty adieu, I piloted Mac on to Elkhart. Arriving in the city, I at once procured a license to sell pictures on the curb, a precaution I had been timely ad- vised to take, and one that was rarely necessary on that trip. Then, before going to eat and to rest my tired bones, I led the donkey to a prominent corner in the busi- ness center and began to sell. I had disposed of two photos only, when a policeman with unusual pomposity ordered me away, but I continued to make sales and, as 132 DARKEST HOUR BEFORE DAWN $i;n he was about to take me in custody, shook my license in his face, causing much merriment to the crowd. Soon the cheering attracted the Mayor to the scene, and he, to my surprise, not only bought a chromo, but paid me for the privilege of riding Mac A'Rony. The jack reluctantly consenting, his Honor got into the sad- dle and rode down the half-choked thoroughfare a block and back amid thunderous applause. The profits from my sales did not meet my expenses, in- cluding the cost of license, so I hurried on to Mishawaka, where, after supper I delivered a street lecture, passed my hat and collected 24 cents. I would yet be stranded in Indiana, at that rate. Mac advised me to leave town at once, and we made for South Bend at dark, reaching that city by ten o'clock. And there with only $6.50 in pocket, I put up at a small hotel and tossed in bed half the night, wondering how I should save myself. "The darkest hour is just before dawn," and it was about that time when I recollected having received, a few days before my pilgrimage began, a letter from a Mr. Adams, of Chicago, extending me an invitation to be his guest, should I pass through that city. It was one of many letters received at the time, which I had not an- swered. I now regretted my negligence, but neverthe- less, next morning, with due apologies I wired him to expect me on a certain train, and planned for a week's absence. The lenient hotel proprietor agreed to take care of my animals as security for my hotel and stable bill; then I purchased a return ticket for emergency, and boarded the train for the Windy City, trusting to a dollar and a half, to my wits, and to "luck" to carry me through. As I stepped off the train in Chicago, a stranger grasped my hand and gave me a most cordial greeting. 133 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK "Laying for me, eh? first man I meet a confidence man," I muttered inwardly. But he was extremely cour- teous, and offered to carry my saddle-bags. "No, sir/' I said, politely. "I've carried them twelve hundred miles, and can carry them three thousand more." "Pod is your name, all right;" the stranger continued, half in inquiry, half in surprise, I thought, as we walked out of the railroad station. "You bet it is," I said, emphatically. "Just because you've plenty of wind out here you needn't think it can blow away my name." "Well," said he, cheerfully, "Our wind is said to be the best brewed in all this country. It may not be strong enough to blow away pods, but I'll wager it can blow the pease out of 'em so far you never can find them." The man's f acetiousness interested me ; it bespoke his nerve. "Tell me, Mister," I said, after walking several blocks, "where are you taking me, anyhow?" "Oh, just three blocks more, then we take a cable," said my escort, as he made another futile grab for my country- fied luggage. When on the car, this confidence man had the confidence to introduce me to a pal, as the New York gentleman and scholar, Professor Pye Pod, who was sur- veying a trans-continental turnpike from the observation platform of a jackass. "I want to know!" exclaimed bui\co man number two; and suddenly, a new light affecting to dawn on his brain, he added, as if to disarm my suspicions, "I see. I see. I have it now. You are the journalist I've read about, said to be well fixed first visit to Chicago?" "Not much," I returned. "Been here dozens of times. Can't say I'm well fixed, though, with only a dollar and a half to my name." At this stage of the dialogue, I saw a police station, 134 DARKEST HOUR BEFORE DAWN "Come with me," I said, "I want to procure a license. Then we'll have a 'smile.' " And, to my utter surprise and gratification, both men stepped off the car and followed me like faithful dogs into the police station. "Where's the Chief of Police?" I inquired of a man in uniform, who stepped toward me. "Right here before you," was the answer. "Well, arrest these bunco-steerers," I said, dropping my odd-looking luggage and laying a hand on each man's shoulder. I never saw greater astonishment and embar- rassment than was expressed by these two confidence men at being so easily trapped by their "Uncle Rube." "This man met me at the train when my depot came in," I continued, excitedly, in lapsus lingua. He knew my name, business, and previous condition of fortune, and put me on a car where he introduced this pal of his, and if I hadn't been forwarned against such fellows by my Uncle Hiram, and caught on to the game, I would have been robbed by this time and chucked into the sewer." This was enough for the Chief. He seized each man by the collar. Instantly the first man found his tongue and tried to explain matters, and finally did so, to the sat- isfaction of all concerned. But what a surprise party for PyePod! "Well ! well ! ! well ! ! !" I exclaimed, my heart thump- ing like a pile-driver, as I realized my embarrassing pre- dicament. "Who would have thought it? Mr. Adams, of course! My dear sir, how -stupid of me! I have wronged you and your friend unmercifully. When I telegraphed you (the Chief here loosened his hold on the men) I never thought you would attempt to meet me at the train, let alone have time to. Your address of 131609 Wellington avenue, I supposed must be near to the State J35 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK line; Chicago has grown so. Couldn't conceive how you could reach the depot before to-morrow." Of course, it was "up to me" to treat. So I left my saddle-bags, and going to a cigar store, purchased a dime's worth of cheroots, and did myself nobly by the chief and the confidence men, whose faces were bloated and red on my return. Then my forgiving host took me to his distant home, where, after dinner, we enjoyed a smoke of his own cigars and a hearty laugh over my exceptional initiation to Chicago life. While smoking and chatting, my host happened to mention a big mass meeting to be held that evening at Lincoln Turner Hall. The doors were to be opened at eight o'clock. It was now seven-thirty. At once I ex- plained my financial stress, and told him that the object of my advance trip by train was to try to make enough money to continue my donkey journey. Adams suggested that, that being the case, we should attend the meeting, by all means ; so we hurried off. Arriving at the hall, my host introduced me to an officer of the league, who escorted us both to seats on the plat- form with a number of vice-presidents and their wives and mothers-in-law. After several orators had spoken, among them being Carter Harrison, soon to be elected Mayor of Chicago, the chairman reminded the audience of Pythagoras Pod and his celebrated donkey, Mac A'Rony, of whom they had read, saying that the meeting was honored with the Professor's presence; then he in- troduced me, after having said I needed no introduction. It was five minutes before I could hear myself speak, and, not being there for that purpose, I didn't say much. But my speech seemed to tickle the audience, and when I had concluded, the chairman suggested that my histrionic plug hat be passed around the hall, on the inside, so it 136 DARKEST HOUR BEFORE DAWN was ; and, do you believe, it was returned to me with more wealth than I had possessed before, at any one time on my pilgrimage. The two days following were busy ones. I contracted for the manufacture of a quantity of buttons, containing the picture of Pye Pod on his donkey, and arranged for the meeting with the manager of a large patent medicine concern on my return to the city with Mac A'Rony. Then, after a day's rest, I returned Sunday evening to South Bend, Ind., to find my donkey and dog well and delighted to see me, but myself suffering, for the first, with malaria. I had a severe chill on reaching the hotel, and all night long I rolled and tossed with a fever. This was doubtless the result of my evening travels through the swamps and lowlands of the Hoosier State. At midnight, I sent a bell-boy for quinine, and by feeding on the medicine lib- erally, for several hours, I broke up the fever by morning ; but still my bones ached. I had no appetite and was in no form to travel. At noon I forced down a little soup, paid my bills, and set out for New Carlisle, walking the whole distance, fourteen miles, by sunset. Mac was so slow that his shadow beat him to town. My muscles and joints still ached, and I passed another sleepless night. Next day I pushed on to La Porte, fourteen miles further, and went to bed feeling a wreck. But as the chills and fever failed to return, I enjoyed sleep. My Chicago trip was a boon to me. I gave no thought to money-making for the present. Wednesday morning, feeling in better spirits, I started for Valparaiso, and cov- ered the twenty-two miles on foot by dark, and relished a hearty supper. Thus far the week had been cold and damp and cloudy. The roads, where they were not 137 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK muddy, were very sandy, and Mac and I made slow head- way. The following night was spent in Hobart, where I was entertained at an amusing, though distressing cock-fight, and all day Friday I tramped or waded in sand six inches deep to the next town, Hammond, where I passed a rest- less night, in spite of my now restored health. In the morning I learned that the state line runs not only through the town, but also, the very house and bedroom I occupied. My bed was directly on the line, and some- how, any position I got in brought that line across some part of my body. Dull monotony and bad weather distinguished the next day's journey; a rainstorm met us half way to Chicago, and wet us all the way. But on Palm Sunday, we pro- gressed under more genial skies. I observed many pa- cific, law-abiding people with prayer-books, bottles and shot-guns, either on their way to church, to a fishing- stream, or to the woods ; and we came upon a tandem bi- cycle party, the machine broken down, the young man and woman apparently broken up. She sat on a stone against a telegraph pole with chin in her hands, watching the gal- lant fellow, who was at her feet, on his knee caps with a monkey wrench in his hands, trying to repair damages. From South Chicago we passed into Stony Island Bou- levard and the Midway Plaisance of the World's Fair of '93. The remaining Art building arched its brows at my curious outfit, and an endless chain of bicycles and car- riages conveyed past us an inquisitive and gaping multi- tude, many of whom altered their plans to follow us into the city proper. It was six o'clock when we reached Thirty-fourth street and I found a suitable stable for my animals. Then affectionately patting Don's head and rubbing Mac's nose, I left them and sauntered up the ave- 138 DARKEST HOUR BEFORE DAWN nue, heaving a sigh of infinite relief over my hard-earned triumph. As I trended the streets of that wide-awake metropolis toward its business center, I was stopped many times by truant messenger boys and idle street gamins, who seemed surprisingly solicitous about the physical condition of my hat. "Mister, this way to a hat store." "If you want to buy a new hat, 111 take you to a hatter." "This way, Mister, I know a place to get a hat cheap." "Say, Mister, I kin get yer a hat fer nothin'." Why should I wish a new hat? I asked myself indig- nantly. True, mine had seen better days, but it was worth more to me now than a hundred new hats. "Yes, yes, you dear old weather-beaten tile," I apostrophized as I strode on with a deaf ear to my inquisitors, "you are of royal stuff, for you have triumphed over many wars and dissensions and still wear a crown! The plebeian hats who calumniate you, although fresh from a band-box, are common compared with you; they are jealous of your ex- ploits and envy you your faithful friend. Vividly do I recall our desperate encounters with the mad bull, the hailstorms and other warring elements ; and that winter's night when you forgot your personal safety and made a noble self-sacrifice by receiving the assailant's bullet intended for me ; and, again, the day the awkward jackass tried to yank me off the plank foot-bridge under- neath him in his fall, when you threw your own lean frame down on to the bank in place of me and received the weight which would have mashed me to death, but which only squeezed the wind out of you. Why do all the idle clerks gaze at you so longingly from the shop-windows? Because they covet you as a drawing card to disdaining shoppers. I am proud of you. Rest in peace." 139 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK I spent the night with friend Adams, on his invitation. Monday morning I kept my appointment with the patent medicine man. He received me cordially, evidently aware of the boon I might be to his business should I enter his employ, and in order that he might better discuss my proposition and its possibilities, he invited me some miles into the country for a couple of days' outing at a mineral spring resort. A stylish coach and four met us at the train, and wheeled us over a pretty rolling country, in the glow of the setting sun, to the cozy hotel-sanitarium, which was brilliantly illuminated and whose doors were open to wel- come us. And in less than twenty minutes, Pod made of his Apollo form a companion piece to "Diana Bathing." The water then sold at fifty cents a gallon and there were two hundred gallons in my tub. Think of it ! I had read about beautiful actresses and heiresses taking milk baths and champagne baths and Rochelle salts baths, but that $100 bath of mine in pure lithia water would have put all those pretty bathing women to the blush. But when, in my enthusiasm, I so told my generous host, he spoiled all my beautiful delusions at once by saying quite me- chanically, "Oh, two hundred gallons for a bath is noth- ing unusual ; it's only the overflow." Next morning he asked me if I would like a magno- mud bath. "Sir?" I interrogated, gravely. "If you had dragged and pushed and carried a stubborn, cantankerous donkey through four hundred miles of red and yellow Ohio mud, and two hundred miles of blue and black In- diana mud, not to mention some six hundred miles of New York and Pennsylvania mud of various hues and conditions, the overflows of December, January and Feb- ruary ; if you had bathed in mud, waded in mud, soaked 140 DARKEST HOUR BEFORE DAWN in mud and cursed in mud for nearly five months, and I were to put such a delicate question to you, your sensi- bilities would be shocked, your nerves paralyzed, your reason ossified." My host apologized and withdrew the invitation; then with great wisdom and forethought, he introduced me to the physician, Dr. Tanner, the highest authority on fast- ing, and renowned for his having fasted forty days. I considered this the luckiest meeting of my whole journey. He took quite a fancy to me and gave me valuable instruc- tions and prescriptions for fasting any period from one to forty days ; but I was disappointed not to be enlightened on how to go several days without water. That morning my host made me a liberal proposition to advertise his medicines, he guaranteeing to pay me a regular weekly stipend during the remainder of my pil- grimage to the Golden Gate, and, free of all charges, to provide me with all the photographs of my asinine outfit that I could sell en route. I signed the contract. Then we returned to Chicago. 141 CHAPTER XVIII. The whole duty of man is to be a mother. Jerome K. Jerome. One week of gamboling in sporty, wide-awake Chicago, and of high-life on the top floor of the Auditorium, put me in fine fettle to resume travel. My second morning at the popular hotel I indited this note to an Eastern friend ; "Breakfasted to-day on the roof, got a shine in the cellar, and met everybody half way." For nearly five months, through severe winter and early spring weather, I had hustled as I never had before to make ends meet; now I had swum the Hellespont to a prosperous shore, the remainder of my long, slow journey looked more enticing. Several valuable and useful ar- ticles were presented to me by wealthy admirers in the Windy City, who also dined me, took me to the theatre and entertained me in other ways. One evening I was pleasantly surprised to be escorted to a champagne dinner given by my friend Williams, of the Union News Company of New York, to several prominent business men of the West. When the sump- tuous repast was well under way he unpinned from the lapel of my coat a button containing a photo of Pod seated on Mac, and paid me a five dollar bill for it ; and, learning I had a stock of buttons in pocket, the other guests followed suit. Such wholesale generosity was as overwhelming as my gratitude. The man with whom I contracted to advertise gave me 142 CHAMPAGNE AVENUE, CHICAGO a donkey, which I named Cheese, to go with Mac A'Rony. And so delighted was Mac with this new comrade to share his burdens that, on my approval, he agreed hence- forth to contribute to the papers every other letter on our travels to the coast, and so enable me to devote more time to bread-winning. Easter morning I found a blue hen's egg at my plate. I was pleased with the remembrance and had the clerk place it in my letter-box. When I called at noon for my mail, I was told the egg had visited most all of the letter boxes, each guest in turn having disclaimed it; so, when at six o'clock I called for the egg to take it to my room for safe keeping, and was handed instead a parcel that smelled of chicken, I was not surprised; however, upon opening it, I could not conceal my astonishment. "Mr. Pod," said the clerk, gravely, "the egg was handled so much that it naturally hatched. Certainly you are not surprised ?" "Not surprised that it hatched," I returned, to be rea- sonable, "but this is fried chicken, and the egg was boiled." My Easter dinner with friends on Champlain avenue made me realize somewhat the stupor a boa-constrictor experiences after having swallowed an ox. My friend Bob B urged me to make his home my transitory abode, arguing that perhaps while at the hotel I was cheated of needed rest by yielding too much to entertain- ment by well-meaning acquaintances. He gave me a key to the house, showed me my room, and told me to drop in any time, day or night, and make myself at home. Having promised to call on an elderly gentleman who had been very kind to me, I spent that evening with his family. Before leaving I had made great friends with his little granddaughter, and promised to call again and bring i43 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK her some candy. "I want circus candy, the kind with rings around it," she explained, drawing imaginary cir- cles round her finger. When I reached my hotel the clerk said several gentle- men were waiting to see me. I was sleepy ; besides, I felt I had caught cold and should doctor it at once. Explain- ing to the clerk that I was indisposed and begged to be excused to my callers, I slipped out of the door and hur- ried to a drug store. "A good drink of calisaya will fix you," said the drug clerk, who explained it was well charged with quinine, but failed to mention it was also well charged with alcohol. I drank two glasses of it, then boarded a car for Champlain avenue. Before reaching my destination I fell asleep. But the conductor was thoughtful enough to awaken me and as- sist me to alight. I was so dizzy from sleepiness, 1 couldn't walk straight. I soon got my bearings, though, and reached Bob's house by experiencing sensations of treading a moving sidewalk, promenading a steamer deck in a high sea, and circumnavigating a crystal maze. I found the door-knob but not the key-hole. We had been having damp weather, and I reasoned that perhaps the key-hole had shrunk shut. I searched my pockets for matches, and found enough wooden toothpicks to kindle my wrath. While I was fuming, a policeman came to my relief. "Who be you, young feller?" he interrogated. "Pyth (hie) thagoras Pod," I answered, civilly; and offering him the key, added, "Won't you open the (hie) door for me ?" "You don't live here, then," said the cop. "I know (hie) it," I admitted. "Just visiting friends." "Are you sure you know where you are at ?" he queried, sternly. 144 "He accused me of attempting suicide. 'll'e made slozv head-way to the Mississippi. CHAMPAGNE AVENUE, CHICAGO "No (hie), I'm not sure," I said feebly, "but I think I'm on Champlain avenue." "More like champagne," he returned, sourly. "What's the number of the house ?" "I forget it," I answered, "I know the house (hie), though, when I see it." "I think you came here for business," said the officer. "You better come with me." And he locked his arm in mine. "Let me ring (hie) up the folks," I pleaded. "They'll identify me." The cop stopped, hesitated, and, doubtlessly deeming prudence the better part of valor, "let." When I took my thumb off the electric button the household must have thought Chicago burning again. I heard Bob tumble half way down stairs; and, when he opened the door and identified me and saw me stagger in, he took another tumble. The third was taken by the disappointed cop, who hurried off to his proper beat. Conscious of my inebriated condition, I was much em- barrassed that my friend should find me in such a state at that late hour. He asked me no questions, and I told him no lies. When he had assisted me to bed, he turned out the gas, which likely I should have blown out, and left me to prayerful meditation. My late propensity to sleep had vanished. My brain was a whirling wilderness. The more I thought about that temperance drink of calisaya, the less respect I had for the principles of prohibition. I scored temperance societies, darned Salvation Armies, and cursed the birth of Matthews, who invented the soda fountain. Before long I was in a sweat. The red bev- erage was evidently breaking up my cold, but that wasn't all. It broke me up; it had broken the slumbers of my host; I was sure it had broken up my good reputation for sobriety. 145 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK I was too nervous to sleep. Thinks I, "A hot bath will just fix me. I'll get up and take one." I rose and hunted for matches, but couldn't find any. Piece by piece, I scraped several ornaments off the mantel to the floor, one bronze Mozart statuette doing some ef- fective work on my big toe that I had intended a chirop- odist to do. Next I fell over a center-table, and upset a glass vase on the floor, which broke its neck; then I tumbled over a rocker and wondered that I didn't break mine. Still bent upon reaching the bath room, I bent my nose against an opened closet door. I was mad. At last, finding the exit of my chamber, I groped my way into the hall, then hesitated. I thought I remembered the location of the bath room ; I was under the impression my bedroom was on the third floor. In reaching for the balusters, I almost lost my balance. My head still whirling like a dancing Dervish. Slowly and dizzily I felt my way down stairs until I came to a door the bath room door, I sup- posed. I opened it gently, groped my way in, and put my bare foot on a napkin-ring, which proceeded to roll away, landing me flat on the floor. Then the folding door swung to with a bang. I feared my friends would think burglars were in the house. But I found the tub all right. I turned the faucets, and was pleased to have both run cold water, for I burned as with a fever. But, when I started to climb into the tub, I found I had either grown shorter in stature, or the tub had been raised. Perhaps it was managed by automatic machinery. 1 knew nothing about machinery; so with great effort I climbed up and into the tub, but found greater difficulty to get all of me in it. I reasoned that the dimensions of the contracted bath-tub must be all right, but the expansions of my head were wrong ; I was intoxicated by a temperance drink, and had heard that it 146 CHAMPAGNE AVENUE, CHICAGO was the worst kind to get tipsy on. I made another heroic effort to jam my body into the tub, but some of me would always lap over the edges. I reasoned that, if I were sober, there would surely be room for three to swim com- fortably about that bathtub. Cold water ran from the faucets for some time and I was considerably cooled off, when, suddenly, one faucet began to run hot water. In- stead of turning off the water, in my excitement I tried to climb out of the tub, but was wedged so tightly in it a hasty escape was impracticable, and before I fell out on the floor my left leg was scalded. There were no pillows where I dropped, so the next moment the door swung open and the gleam of a lighted match shone in my face. I saw my host, with countenance as white as his night- shirt, suddenly assume a rosy hue, then I heard him gig- gle. I was glad he saw some humor in it, for I failed to. In one hand he held an old army musket, and I told him not to shoot. Sitting on the floor, I now saw plainly that it was the butler's pantry and not the bath room, and that I had taken a bath in the sink. Bob, on gaining my room, put some salve on my scald, and wound my limb with the first handkerchief he came across, and I was soon fast asleep. Next morning I remembered my promise to buy some candy for my little friend and visited a confectioner. It was a big store, and three salesladies tried to wait upon me. "I wish the spiral-striped peppermint, kind of circus candy," I explained. "It's for a little tot I am fond of." "I understand," said the girl, "but we haven't it, but wait a minute." Before I realized what she meant, she had dashed out the door, presumably to the store two doors away. I was sorry she took such trouble to please a poor patron. Soon 147 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK she reappeared with a crystal jar of the long stick candy I desired, and dumping a pound of it on the scales, inquired, "How much do you wish ?" "Oh, one stick will do," I said. "She's a delicate child ; I don't want to make her sick." The girl almost dropped the jar. Then recovering her mental equilibrium, she asked, while refilling the jar from the scales: "Will you take it with you, or have it sent?" I blinked. "Take it with me, I guess," was my reply. As she wrapped the stick of candy, I reached in my pocket for the penny. Then I felt weak ; I hadn't a cent. "I-I-I-I declare !" I exclaimed. "I left all my money with the hotel clerk ; I'll be back directly." And out I rushed into the street where there was more air. By the time I got to the hotel and back I was willing to buy five pounds of candy. I no sooner entered the store than the girl, with a smothered smile, said, "We sent the candy to the hotel." Now I was embarrassed. "What hotel?" I inquired. "Why, the Auditorium!" she giggled. "You're Mr. Pye Pod, aren't you ? The proprietor said so, and appre- ciating your immense purchase, desired to spare you all the inconvenience possible." I heard laughter in the office as I closed the door be- hind me. I dreaded to face the hotel clerk. As I strolled up street, I thought what a poor mother I would make even to one little child, and tried to fancy the awful strain on Washington to be such a good father to his whole country. There was one thing that worried me generally when my meals were over; my hat. I feared I should lose it. The hat boy, clever as he was, by mistake might give it to another. Always when he handed it to me I stopped 148 , CHAMPAGNE AVENUE, CHICAGO to examine it carefully, to make sure it wasn't one of the stylish tiles which had presumed to associate with it on the rack. It was customary for me to question the cus- todian of hats in this manner: "Is this my hat?" "Are you sure it is?" When, Tuesday evening, my odd-looking stove-pipe was handed me, I examined it incredulously, eyed the col- ored man, then stepping in front of a natty-groomed gen- tleman of fifty, who had just received his latest Dunlap from the custodian, I scrutinized his hat inquisitively, then my own, and eyed him inquiringly, as much as to say, Are you sure our hats have not become exchanged ?" The dignified guest did not take kindly to my manner. He frowned, even looked savage. The darkey seemed to think it funny, and laughed in his hand, with back turned. I accompanied the old gentleman down in the elevator, to the office, where we picked our teeth. Then I addressed the clerk in injured tones : "I have a complaint to make." "Let's have it," said the genial Harry. "That black, blue-brown hat custodian at the dining room is forever getting my tile mixed with those of other guests. I hate to make a fuss, but " "You are quite right, Mr. Pod," said the clerk, seri- ously, "A first-class hotel should not tolerate such ineffi- ciency in a trusted employee. I'll discharge the fellow at once." I stepped away, contented, and lighted my cigar. Then the stately gentleman addressed the clerk : "Who in - - is that fellow ? He's off his trolley ! He thought this hat of mine was his, and that rusty antediluvian, dilapidated specimen he wears was mine. What's his name?" "Why, Professor Pythagoras Pod, of course. Didn't 149 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK you recognize him? Everybody knows him. He knows his hat, too, and don't you forget it. Offer him fifty dollars for his old tile, and see how quickly he'll refuse it." The outraged dignitary shrank into his clothes, and, with a wry glance in my direction, walked away. The cus- todian of hats kept his job, but I never saw the stylish gentleman again. 150 PART TWO. By PYE POD AND MAC A'RONY. " Do you believe the whale swallowed Jonah ? " "No." " And don't you believe Balaam's ass spoke to him ? "Yes; I believe that." " Why ? " " Because so many asses speak to me every day." CHAPTER XIX. BY MAC A'RONY. Days are but the pulse-beats of immortal time. Sparks from Iron Shoes Mac A'Rony. It was the twenty-tooth of April. The inclement weather, which had rained supreme for forty hours, sud- dently abdicated in favor of the presumptive sun and genial air apparent which ruled gloriously for some six hundred and nine minutes. Save that it lacked the odor of new-mown hay, it was a day fashioned after a donkey's own heart. However, a yard of fresh grass painted green would have satisfied my taste better than did the golden sun rays and the transparent air. At ten o'clock Pye Pod, D. D. (donkey driver), saun- tered off to do an errand, and then hastened to the stables to saddle and pack his two noble and fractious partners, Cheese and myself. I believe my erudite collaborator has already introduced to you my long-eared comrade. Such a load as we were to carry ! Of course, I got the worst of the bargain in which I had no voice. Said my master, as he rubbed my nose, "Mac, old boy, since you have become hardened to the trip by reason of your thir- teen hundred mile creep (I nabbed at him vexedly), I'll just let you shoulder the two boxes." And, with nerve incarnate, the unbalanced Professor balanced on my back what seemed to me two one-ton cases of pig-iron. I be- lieved my time had come. Even the unsophisticated 153 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK Cheese, whispered to me nervously, "Our coffins, Mac, sure as Balaam !" and resumed the mastication of timothy hay, as if it were his last meal. The pack-saddles were tightly cinched to us. Every time Pod pulled on the ropes under my belly I grunted as if in pain, although it only tickled me, and gnawed a half inch off the oaken manger in seeming agony ; so, while he imagined he was squeezing all the breath out of me, I had still enough left to inflate a balloon. That's how I fooled Pod. All this time he was talking to himself. He vowed that he would get even with a cer- tain officious policeman, who had daily gloried in the ex- ercise of his authority, by ordering him to lead his "con- founded jackass" away from the front portal of the ho- tel, where crowds of curious people always gathered around us and blocked the way. His soliloquy grew louder and more fiery every moment. Even Cheese lifted his snoot out of the haymow and, tilting his left ear, whis- pered, "Say, Mac, our master must have some unholy mo- tive in mind. Hold on to your wind. Don't let him lace those lockers on you, as a squaw would bind a pappoose to her back, for you may want to kick 'em off. Pod's daft." Well, that suspicious jack's most grotesque foreboding was soon realized. Everything went well until we were nearly opposite the great double portal of the hotel, when, suddenly, I felt the saddle slipping round my girth. Another second and I was flat on my back, jerked high off my feet on top of the boxes. For a moment I could not realize the undignified posture I was in. Being roped securely to the boxes, all I could do was to kick at the flying sparrows, and bray as only a frightened donkey can. Crowds quickly assembled. Excitement ran high. Cheese, instead of raising a hoof in my defense, dropped 154 DONK CAUSES A SENSATION his ears and looked complacently on my animated heap like a country gawk. The hotel guests rushed out bare- headed, some of them fresh from the cafe with tripe and ice cream in hand, and wild-eyed pedestrians flocked to the scene of my troubles. Don barked excitedly and kept the throng back. The coolest one of the outfit was Pod. He stood quietly by, grinning and bowing to the open-air audience, as if he were the bandmaster and I the band. I now recollected Cheese's advice, and chided myself for having expanded my lungs at the packing. The thought was vexing to one in my position. Immediate relief looked hopeless. Scared half to death, I brayed myself hoarse before a would-be liberator wedged through the crowd and order Pod to clear the thoroughfare. He was that pompous policeman. He eyed Pod severely, and glancing at my up-turned face, inquired : "What's in them there boxes, Mister?" "Pills," said Pod, "just pills," and with his usual suavity added, "A very dainty- but effective cathartic, the best remedy in the world for a morbid patrolman. I know you feel out of sorts, M r. Cop, but the contents of one of these boxes taken internally will make you imag- ine you are not only the chief of the Chicago police but the Mayor of the city* and the President of the United States combined." The Professor then handed the man a small box, and proceeded to free me. And, do you know, I choked Michigan Boulevard for an hour before I was got "right side up with care." We next moved on to the Columbus Statue, which then stood in a barren spot between the road and the lake shore, where a photographer waited to take some rare views of our outfit. The bombastic policeman ordered us off the grass, although there was nothing but gravel in ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK sight. Cheese was raving mad and so annoyed by the cop's impertinence that he boldly made a bluff at eating the sculptured stone wreath off the statue, just to worry him. "Mac A'Rony, please keep your ears still for one mo- ment, will you?" said the photographer, as he took hold of my flaps and pushed them forward, adding, "Now keep them there." As he let go they flew back into a natural position like blades of whalebone. Next he twisted my nose almost out of shape, and addressed me as if I were a lady. "Now, smile gently there!" Such a grin as I gave! The instant he removed the black cloth from the camera, a familiar lump came up in my throat, and I brayed. My efforts to restrain myself joggled my ears out of gear and completely shook the smile off my face. But I was "took," body and bra'in's, with the whole outfit. How I shudder, when I gaze upon those photographs ; my drooping eyes, and my lazy body all taken together made a picture so perfectly asinine that one can almost detect the bray leaving my mouth. I have always been ashamed of that picture of real life. Like all donkeys, I was disappointed because my photo did not flatter me. Besides, my master's eagerness to keep his contract to advertise a patent medicine led him to drape Don in a gray blanket, on which, "Throw physic to the dogs," was brilliantly embroidered words which helped make Shakespeare immortal, but caused Don to blush. It was a long jaunt to Illinois street. Several times my burden threatened to come off. And once I almost made a free distribution of pills by falling in front of an electric car, which was brought to a stand only six inches from me. I caused a sensation, to ' say the least. And when 156 DONK CAUSES A SENSATION Cheese brayed in terror, a multitude flocked to the scene. The passengers were thrown out of their seats, some of them pitched off the front platform on the top of me, and screamed with fright. Pod, of course, flew into a rage. He accused me of at- tempting suicide; but Cheese loyally defended me and said, "Such a load of medicine is enough to prostrate a herd of elephants." Soon afterward, on turning a corner, the wind blew Pod's hat off, and it went flying under the wheels of a cable car which completely ironed the curl out of the hat rim on one side, and gathered a crowd on the other. "Managing one jackass is a difficult job, but controlling two is impossible," I heard Pod mutter, as he slapped his plug on his bald pate. Although it was only five miles to Garfield Park as the crow flies, it was ten by the course we took. At that place we were not overfed, and soon after leaving we en- countered an electric hail storm. Volley after volley of round shot ripped open Pod's ill-fated tile, and his spleen broke loose again. "I'm glad this day's most ended !" he thundered. His remark seemed to solicit sympathy, so I answered gravely, "My worthy master, remember that days are but the pulse-beats of immortal time. You should cherish each as you do every heart throb." My philosophic words silenced him for a moment. Then, as if I might warp the wearisome hour by a mute tongue, I lay back my tail and ears till they were parallel with the road, and landed my cargo in Oak Park before six. There was no hotel in sight, but as it was not yet dark, Pod was enabled to find a barn, adjoining a saloon, and there he stalled us, fed and watered us, and said good night. i57 CHAPTER XX. BY PYE POD. Full in the midst the polish'd table shines, And the bright goblets, rich with generous wines ; Now each partakes the feast, the wine prepares, Portions the food, and each the portion shares ; Nor till the rage of thirst and hunger ceased To the high host approached the sagacious guest. Homer's Odyssey. I left my embryo caravan in Oak Park for the night, and returned to the Auditorium Hotel. The clerk greeted me with, "Well! well!" grasped my outstretched hand, and with a smile said, "I thought your picturesqueness had left us for good." Then, pulling a pen out of the vegetable pen-stand which squinted "How to do?" with one remaining eye, he handed it to me. "I'm a hard customer to get rid of," I remarked ; "could not get out of the city entirely this day, though I've trav- eled miles jacks at Oak Park saloon barn, best I could find no hotel got to eat and sleep, you know." And having said this, I walked majestically to the "lift." "Seventh floor ?" queried the elevator boy. "No dining room," I corrected, patting my stomach fondly. "Pretty late for feed, guess," observed the lad discour- agingly, as we began to rise. "There's a banquet on now," continued the lad. "Great Balaam! I am late!" I exclaimed. "I've been 158 A' DONKEY FOR ALDERMAN. a week saving my appetite for this dinner. Let 'er slide kid there!" and I hurried to the dining-room. I knocked persistently against the locked doors, while savory odors drifted through the keyhole, and was soon admitted by the assistant head-waiter. I smile now as I recall that watermelon grin, when the darkey yawned like a coalbin in expression of his greeting. "I'm somewhat embarrassed, Jim, to appear so tardy," I began, "I had about decided to deny myself the honor and pleasure of the event. You see, my friends are all togged out in their pigeon-tails, while just look at me." "Why, Mistah 'Tagras, shuah dey will be glad to" "Yes, yes, I know they would be more pleased to see me in my odd regulation clothes; but no, not this time, Jim ; close your scuttle mum's the word. Just let me eat in this snug corner where I can hear the strains of the orchestra, out of reach of their stale jokes. Fetch on the viands." As I concluded I pressed a coin into the mahogany hand, and took from my coat a button containing Mac's and Pod's photo, and gave it to the delighted darkey. There was novelty in this strange situation. It was the only feast I remembered ever having attended unin- vited. Across the spacious hall, obscured by Japanese screens, sat the garrulous banqueters, blissfully ignorant of my presence, while I, a famished and jaded nomad, sat comfortably drinking in the liquid music of the sere- nade and inflating my gastronomical pipes with terra- pin, squab, robin's eggs, salads and other dainties galore. Presently I was served with something more melliflu- ous than music, as Jim appeared with a bottle of that familiar sparkling liquid, which is proverbially wrapped in cobwebs and frost, in a pail of ice, and said: "Believe i59 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK yo' sayed Mumm, Sah be dis yo' taste, Mistah Tag- ras?" My eyes eloquently expressed my sentiments. Oh, what a nerve tissue a donkey journey does create! As I quaffed the soul-stirring nectar, I thought of Mac A'Rony how he would have relished a quart of that sterling brand! and then poured a bumper for him and drank it to his very good health. When I had finished, I called the waiter and said, with visible effort: "Jim, I wish hie you would tell th' bandmaster (here Jim poked a napkin into his mouth), that a tardy guest hie heartily requests the pat patri- otic hie tune Macaroni's come to town. Go, Jim, that's a good girl." And Jim went. That waiter was the cleverest darkey I ever came across. We all well know that one trait of a thorough- bred darkey is the faculty for invention. Imagine my surprise when the fellow returned with a gentleman in full dress and introduced me. I, expecting to catch something different, failed to catch his name. My new acquaintance seemed to feel highly honored with the presentation. He appeared a bit staggered, though, and with difficulty found my wandering hand. Taking my arm, he escorted and introduced me to the convivial assembly as the distinguished guest of the even- ing "though somewhat belated, nevertheless his genial presence duly appreciated." When he mentioned the name of Professor Pythagoras Pod such applause issued from the unsteady occupants of the hundred chairs that I, thinking it my courteous duty to join in the encore, clapped my hands vigorously. This seemed to provoke great merriment. The laughter and clapping grew louder and louder, until hands and throats were inadequate to express the jubilant spirits of the banqueters, and they began to stamp their feet. Finally 160 A DONKEY FOR ALDERMAN. all arose, threw in the air imaginary hats, broke glasses of wine, and, in fact, I don't know what would have hap- pened if the manager had not entered the scene. Finally, some one called, "Speech! Speech! A speech from Mr. Pod!" I tried to respond. I didn't believe the guests knew who I was, other than a pod of some sort. The hotel manager did, but he had gone. I therefore decided not to reveal my identity ; I would act the invited guest I was taken to be. I did not speak long. What I said was ostensibly so appropriate, so pointed, so witty, so apropos, that the frequent cries of "Hear! Hear!" told me I had made a hit, and it was time to stop. I have no recollection of what I said on that momentous occasion, but I apolo- gized for the abruptness of my departure on the plea that I. had six more banquets to attend that evening, whereas I had but one stomach. Wild cheers and handclapping greeted my speech. When quiet was restored I offered the following toast, asking all to rise with rilled goblets : Hie here's to the man, boys, here's to the man Who hie has the sagacity, gall, and who can Partake of the bless hies of earth, though unbidden, Without revealing the jack hie he has ridden; Here's to hie his pocket and here's to hie his purse May Balaam shed tears when hie he rides in a hearse. With a concerted "Bravo!" all drank my health. Then, hat in hand, I followed a very tortuous route out and to the elevator, and soon afterward found the keyhole of my chamber door, and retired. I did not feel well in the morning, but nevertheless journeyed to Oak Park at an early hour. What a surprise awaited me at the barn! The air was 161 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK dense with the odor of beer. I had hardly anticipated trouble brewing; nothing was so foreign to my thoughts as the possibility of rinding two asinine inebriates and a "jagged" canine instead of the sober company I left the evening before. But there they lay, both donkeys paralyzed, panting and blear-eyed. An overturned beer keg swam in the deluge of froth that flooded the floor. Mac must have pulled the bung out of the keg. The fellow looked guilty enough, but, when I recalled my own recent dissipation, I didn't have the heart to upbraid him. I was perplexed. What could I do? To resume my pilgrimage that morning was out of the question. I felt in my bones that as soon as the saloonkeeper learned of the calamity, I, Pythagoras Pod, would have to pay damages. Such I could not well afford. Why not go to the man and enter a complaint against him for har- boring knock-out drops, and consequently causing my valuable animals ruination of mind, physique and moral character? A capital idea! No sooner thought than done. The man was speechless. "Why!" I exclaimed, pounding my fist hard down on the oaken bar, "think of it ! a day's delay may lose me my five thousand dollar wager. THINK OF IT, MAN! FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS!!" I would have said more, but I noticed the Hibernian was knocked com- pletely out of the metaphorical ring by my unequivocal utterances. His blanched countenance showed that his conscience smote him. He paced the barroom floor like a leopard trying to get away from his spots. Presently he stopped, and, thrusting his fingers through his goatee, looked out in time to witness Mac A'Rony turn a head- spring from the barn door. 162 A DONKEY FOR ALDERMAN. "Begorry!" he exclaimed, "if Oi hod that mule, Oi'd ruun 'im for alderman of the Tinth Ward. Shure, and it's phure air and wather the bye's votin fer. It's this Oi'm sayin', Misther Pod, Oi'll give ye twinty-foive bones fer th' brute in his prisent condishun; Oi will that, ond call it shquare." Mac certainly was acting very compromisingly. But I explained to the Irishman no reasonable sum could purchase that particular donkey, and, furthermore, that twenty-five dollars would barely satisfy my claims. The exclamation of "Holy Mither!" checked me for the moment, and as the man looked barnward he added, elequently shaking his fists, "Oi'm dommed, if th' shcapegrace ain't mixin' dhrinks!" Here Mr. Rooney and I rushed out in the nick of time to prevent my crazy jack from tapping a whiskey barrel standing in the shed adjoining the barn. "Misther Pod, a curse on me soul if Oi would ruun th' bladherscat fer doorkeeper oof th' pinnytinsury! Here's tin dollars, tear th' likes oof it in two and rhuun ond buy a bhromo seltzer, and sober th' toper oop at wance." I took the proffered note, and had gone but a hundred feet when the Irishman called to me, "Hold on ; before yez lave fer th' sphace of a mooment moind thet ye puts a muzzle on th' asrophoid rephrobate with th' bobtail ears, ond shpring a toime lock on th' crethur." The animals having been dosed, I was about to ques- tion myself "What next?" when my host said cordially, "Shure, ond yez will feed with us. Yez may keep th' change from th' shinphlaster ond good luck in sthore fer yez. Now, coom on to grub, ond lave th' brutes alone. They'll be afther havin' their sea legs soon." And Pat succeeded in conciliating me, and escorted me to the house. 163 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK By one o'clock my disgraceful donkeys answered to roll-call, and with touching humility submitted to be saddled. With such disappointing interpositions of Fate the Golden Gate seemed to be a decade removed. For a while, the donks were wavering and their pedals unreli- able; but after the first hour they meandered along quite acceptably. As Mac was slow to recuperate, I rode Cheese. He was surprisingly sure of foot, whereas Mac, swell-headed, drowsy-eyed and swaying, couldn't have walked a straight line a yard wide, unless it was a yard of grass. He walked with a suspicious tread, like one ven- turing on ice which threatened his death bath any mo- ment. When the afternoon was well advanced Cheese showed symptoms of lameness in his nigh fore-leg, as I had feared, in consequence of his late circus. We passed May wood and Elmhurst as we followed the main-traveled road. I was compelled to dismount and lead my cripple four miles to Lombard. Such was my luck in the State of Illinois. It was after dark, the second day out of Chicago, and still we had traveled but twenty miles. To think that munificent gift, Cheese, was already an invalid on my hands! I summoned a veterinary surgeon, and listened to his diagnosis with solicitous attention. "Only a strain of the shoulder muscles," said he; "must have run-hop- skip-and- jumped to get such a strain does he ever play golf? Will require a full week's rest." The doctor ren- dered his professional opinion with the air of a metro- politan specialist prescribing a trip to Europe for some delicate society belle. Next morning I rode in company with a good fellow two miles into the country, where I purchased a very long-eared, shapeless donkey, of a good character, and 164 A DONKEY FOR ALDERMAN. quickly rode him bare-back to town. Then I sold my cripple at auction in the public square. The cumbersome pack-boxes, which the sturdy Mac A'Rony had borne without a murmur, I also sold to pay the doctor's bill. The following day saw me in the town of Wheaton, whose reputed beauty I failed to appreciate in a pouring rain. I remained there over Saturday night and Sunday. The clipping of Cheese II on Monday morning proved to be an exhibition well worth witnessing at a safe dis- tance. That "model" character turned out to have the temper of a vixen. First, a rope was twisted round his nose, then his four legs were tied securely together, and finally six strong men held him down- on the floor to per- mit the finishing touches to his vibrating limbs, while carefully avoiding the finishing touches to their lives. Instantly the half dozen assistants were sent sprawling across the floor in all directions, while the stable dog chased an imaginary bird into space and landed in a poultry yard. The frightened donkey was mad, or had a fit. On the other hand, Mac, in the noisy excitement, pumped his bronchial organs to their utmost capacity, and Don joined in the chorus, till any passer-by might easily have mistaken the barn for a slaughter house. Finally, the unruly subject was got under control, and in time released on bail (of hay). I verily believe that the electricity generated by that clipped donkey, if stored, could have propelled a trolley for twenty-four hours. During the ensuing week, the villages of Geneva, El- beron, Maple Park and Courtland in turn greeted me with the usual curiosity and concern, and I was spared to enter De Kalb on Wednesday evening, after a most distressing adventure. When we had proceeded about two miles beyond Courtland, I unchained my dog for a 165 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK short sportive recess. I rode Mac, and about three feet to our right ambled Cheese, a chain connecting his bit with my saddlehorn. My little troop was peacefully traversing the smooth country road when suddenly Don came bounding down the highway, chasing a little red calf, the dog barking gleefully, the calf bellowing with fright. Drawing my revolver, I fired to distract Don's attention ; but without avail. A few moments later, as I was aiming at a flock of black birds, I heard the ominous clatter of hoofs rapidly approaching us from the rear, accompained by a deep, hoarse mooing, which clearly emanated from a calf of mature years. Imagine my feel- ings when, turning in my seat, I beheld an enraged cow racing with Don in a bee line for me, the dog in the lead going a mile a minute, the bovine a mile and a quarter. It was the first I had known Don to flee from a foe. His eye now protruded, his tongue hung out a-foam, and his tail lay back straight like an arrow. As I remember, the dog passed under the chain con- necting my donkeys, and instantly with the force of a locomotive something alive plunged in our midst, strik- ing the chain. How many double somersaults I turned I know not. How many minutes we remained in the dusty road overturned in a heap I can only estimate from the distance the lucky dog must have traveled to get out of sight so soon. My first mental reflection was that the cow must be the calf's mother; my second thought was to save my life. I managed somehow to crawl out from under the animated heap, and then surveyed the situation. The cow's horns were fast in the chain and one of her feet in the saddle gear; and she tossed her head savagely, every time lifting one donkey or the other bodily off the ground and dropping him in a heap in the dust. She 166 A DONKEY FOR ALDERMAN. kicked and bellowed, until, finally breaking loose minus a horn, she made for me head down, innocent as I was. I didn't stop to argue, but lit out for the barbed wire fence with that outraged mother at my heels. I have heard you can tell how fast a man thinks by the way he eats. You could have told how fast I thought by the way I ran. Over the fence I leaped, leaving my long coat- tail hanging from the top strand of wire. The cow, blinded with rage, made a lunge at the piece of cloth only to lacerate her head on the barbs; then she jumped the fence and took after me, tail in air, and foam dripping from her mouth. A small tree stood by the roadside not far distant, and I cleared the fence again and made for it. Although not an expert at climbing, I shinned aloft like a squirrel, and for a moment expected the bovine to follow. She reared on her haunches, and pawed furiously at the sway- ing branches; then, backing several feet, she charged headlong against the sapling, almost dislocating every bone of my body and every hair of my head. All but shaken out of the tree-top, I contrived to gather in my legs and to wind them round the slender trunk. Then I reached for my revolvers. My Colt 44 was missing, but with my Smith & Wesson 32, I pep- pered that cow, until I shot away a section of her tail, and sent her off in a cloud of dust like a howling, rag- ing cyclone in the direction of her calf. I waited a while before venturing down to look for my animals, now conspicuous for tfieir absence. Dark- ness had settled on the scene. Groping my way up the road, I soon stumbled over a pair of boots, further on a camera, and a hundred yards beyond my Winchester rifle, minus its holster. Still no sign of donkeys or dog. I stopped at a farm 167 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK house and inquired: "Have you seen two jackasses strolling this way?" The agriculturist pulled his goatee as he surveyed me from foot to crown, and replied : "No, I hain't seen two jackasses strollin' this way, but a whole herd of 'em came tearing past my barnyard a-kitin' about an hour ago, skeerin' the cattle I was a-milkin' into fits. Why! the brayin' and takin's on of the wild beasts caused a stam- pede of my hull gol-darned dairy. What be ye at a-pes- terin' round these parts with a herd of wild jackasses?" My response was terse, and was given before the man had finished. I hurried on, making inquiries at other farmhouses before I found my fugitive caravan huddling together in a corral, a mile beyond. My dog was with them, but no cows or calves. Borrowing a lantern and two halters, I retraced my steps down the highway, my unwilling animals in tow, and resaddled and packed them as best I could; then I returned the loan and hastened to town. 168 "/// this way I crossed that bridgt of size." I "/ saw the streak of daylight." .. "So slow that his shadow' beat him to town.' CHAPTER XXI. An uneducated person, seeing a picture of a donkey in a field, sees only a donkey in a field, however well it may be painted, and I fancy very exceptional ability would be required to make any of us think a gray donkey sublime, or believe an ordinary field to be one of Elysian. Ideala Sarah Grand. There will be many converts to the Darwinian Theory by the time I have taken Pythagoras Pod to his destina- tion. They are recruiting all along the line. The Professor's street lecture in De Kalb in a mist was punctuated with effusive allusions to his "obstreperous asses," which epithet only strengthened our ill-feeling toward him, and furnished a new incentive for Cheese's rascality. When Pod reached the middle of an elegant burst of rhetoric, that animal, true to asinine instinct, pushed a hind foot against the orator's stomach and brought the speech to a finish. The afflicted one was ten- derly borne away, I know not whither, but Cheese whis- pered probably to a blacksmith's where a bellows could be had with which to pump wind into the vacuum. The following day, my master having come to, it was decreed that Cheese and I be taken to a smith's to have our corns pared, and our shoes repaired. Whenever Pod has an idle moment thank Balaam he hasn't many ! he amuses himself by torturing a donkey. Shoes are a nui- sance, especially new shoes, and I would much rather go barefoot as do country boys and girls. 169 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK The blacksmith, an expert cobbler, shook hands with us, with special deference to Cheese, who was to have the new footgear, then informed my master that if we jacks would treat him with respect he would do what was right, but if not, he would inflict on him what he himself had received from us. I overheard Pod mutter as he de- parted that he was sure that villain Cheese was going to kick him by proxy. When Pod returned, that incorrigible donkey had both smiths in a corner, and was kicking knots out of the walls. Soon that shop appeared as if constructed of perforated cardboard, and the two men as if they were worsted. Both men were saved, however, by Pod, who ran to a bakery for some cakes with which he completely sub- jugated the murderous brute, and enabled the men to complete the work. All next day we labored through mud, which made my feet feel good, but spoiled the looks of our new shoes. That day the Professor bought a new donkey. "Sell him cheap, sound as a dye," said the man. Per- haps this was the truth, but he was the funniest donkey I ever set eyes on. His face resembled a poodle dog's, ex- cept that it was longer, and he appeared to be a combina- tion of crosses between South American llama, Rocky Mountain sheep, baby camel, and muley cow, with only a sprinkling of donkey blood. After this freak was roped to my saddle and we had proceeded a little way, I asked, "Excuse me, friend, but what stock did you descend from?" "Why, live stock," said the simpleton. The rest of us hid our faces; but I persisted, "Who's your father?" "I never had a father," he returned. "If I did, he never showed up in my lifetime. As for my mother, she kicked 170 A DONK WITHOUT A FATHER. the tenderloins out of a farmer's thoroughbred pig, in consequence of which I was left to shift for myself, so you can't call me a shiftless fellow/' Well, the poor fellow ain't quite as bad off as Topsy, I thought she had neither father nor mother. For a week back Cheese had been complaining of a weak foot, which explains why Pod desired an emerg- ency donkey. The heavy roads would have taxed a dray horse. But by shifting the burden from Cheese and my- self to the new acquisition we were able to make better time with less effort. The sun was hot, and Poodle's long coat dripped with perspiration. Before long, we were stopped in front of a house, where a man was cutting the grass with a lawn- mower. "Hay, there, Mister !" Pod shouted ; "will you loan me that machine a moment? I'll remunerate you handsomely for the kindness." The farmer just shouldered that machine and fetched it down to the roadside. Then my master dismounted, and whispering to the granger something I couldn't under- stand, to my utter astonishment deliberately pushed that lawn-mower almost the whole length of that donkey's back. I recall the incident so vividly. First sounded the noisy swish of the mower, next the fragrant air was hazy with flying hair, hat, man and mowing machine. A moment of painful silence followed, when suddenly a clatter from the roof of the house indicated that the jackass had promptly returned the machine to its owner. Poor Pod, it looked as if he were no mower. The farm- er laid him gently on the grass, where he finally awoke, and with the aid of hard cider and a fanning machine was restored. Three miles beyond he caught the refractory 171 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK jack that meant only to harm the machine, he said, and not the man, and securing a slipnoose to Poodle's tail, roped him to my saddle; next he tied Cheese to my tail, and leaping aboard his new expedient led the way. All at once Poodle espied two donkeys grazing in a field. "I must say a farewell to my sweethearts before leaving," he protested, braying and making a dash for the fence, dragging me after him. I often wonder if he had any feeling left in his tail after that ; for while it pained me to drag Cheese, it must have caused Poodle more pain to tow us two by resorting to such a sensitive extreme. Had not the fence been a thorn hedge, I verily believe that that "Samson" would have dragged us across lots to his sweethearts. I never saw Pod so enraged. On nearer approach to Rochelle, we stopped in front of a house where Pod purchased a drink of milk of a woman who was passing milk cans to a man in a wagon. Neither the man nor the woman asked a question, much to my surprise, until we had proceeded some distance, when to prevent a tragedy, nature asserted herself and impelled the woman to call out : "Say, what be them thar animiles ye-ve got, stranger ?" "Two are camels, and one is a dromedary," Pod yelled. "Dromedary!" The woman exclaimed; and, to the man, added, "That's a new sort of dairy I never heered tell of. Did you, Hank?" 172 CHAPTER XXII. BY PYE POD. "By my faith, Signer Don Quixote," quoth the duchess, "that must not be; you shall be served by four of my damsels, all beautiful as roses." "To me," answered Don Quixote, "they will not be as roses, but even as thorns pricking me to the very soul ; they must in nowise enter my chamber." Don Quixote. From Rochelle to the Mississippi I found the people more conservative, but interesting subjects for character study. The topography of the country varied but little Snipe, quail, doves and meadow larks were prevalent. The pesty pocket-gophers were as shy of my fire-arms as of the farmers' dogs ; one might shoot a dozen of them only to see the spry little fellows drop dead into their "home-made" graves. I have seen hundreds of them sit- ting upright on as many mounds, immovable as sticks, but pop ! and they vanished. Crossing this one-time prairie state, I recalled pictures of prairie fires in my school-books, and easily imagined the terror of the droves of wild horses and buffalo, fleeing before the leaping flames. This seemed to be a contented section, and contentment is a great thing. Although no woodland was visible, I saw occasional clusters of "pussy willows," and groups of shade-trees embowering a house, above which the shaft of an aeromotor towered like a sentinel, asserting the homestead rights. When the windwheels were in motion, they created a noise which only an expert linguist could distinguish from the vernacular of a guinea hen. 173 ON A DONKEY'S HURRiCAJNu. DECK "Here and there bunches of cattle browsed in the mead- ows behind barbed-wire fences and thorn hedges ; and long corn-cribs, often full to overflowing, had rewarded most every farmer. About dark, May first, my small caravan ambled into the village of Ashton, and my bugle blasts aroused the nodding inhabitants sufficiently to give me a fair audience for a lecture. The Germans predominated, and to them May-day festivals are indispensable. Boys and girls cele- brate by hanging May-baskets on door knobs, and a few wags, who resemble frogs, in that a half dozen make you think they are a million, shower corn, sand and bird shot at windows equal to a Kansas hail-storm. The celebration that night seemed to be directed at my particular window. The racket had almost soothed me to sleep, when suddenly a rag doll loaded with shot came smashing through the blinds and landed on my bed. My patience overtaxed, I arose and resorted to free trade by exporting to the street a piece of crockery, and a chair, not to mention a few roasted invectives. I would have folded my bedstead and sent it sailing after them, but the disturbance of the peace and the pieces ceased together. While at breakfast I wondered if any tricks had been played on my animals. I was quite sure of it before reach- ing the stable. The livery keeper came hobbling up on one foot and a crutch, with his face done up in fly-paper, and a bandage around his head. "What's up?" I asked. "Jacks got the spasms." "You mean spavins," I corrected, innocently enough. "Guess I ought to know the difference 'tween spasms and spavins," he returned, sourly. "Those d mules o' yourn kicked out petitions, hollared, and had such fits 174 RAT TRAP AND DONKEY'S TAIL. last night that they scared all the mice and rats outen the haymow." " What kind of petitions ?" I asked, remembering I had been tempted to issue a petition on my own account. "What kind d'y, 'spose? Wooden petitions," said he. "And when I crawled out o' bed and went to the stalls to see what ailed 'em " "Ailed the petitions ?" I interrupted, excitedly. "Naw, the mules, something like a thousand rats and mice ran over my bare feet. I thought the barn must be afire, and I jumped so the lantern fell outen my hand and broke, and I had to feel my way in the dark." "You ought to know better than to feel around strange donkeys, night or day," said I, reprovingly. "It wasn't th' feelin' of 'em what broke me up so," said he. ' 'Twas the kindlin' wood they piled up again me." "I did not discuss further the circumstances ; I was quite satisfied, since we had grievances in common. While settling my bill, I noticed Mac gaze at the ceiling, so I glanced upward, too, and at once saw hanging to a nail on a cross-beam a circular rat-trap, bent almost flat, and containing two dead rodents. That solved the mys- tery. On recovering the trap, we found it sprinkled with donkey hair, and sheep twine, which was proof enough that some young villain had fastened a cage full of rats to Mac A'Rony's tail, he being the most amiable of the donkeys. There is nothing like the mysterious to frighten a dumb brute, and when that donkey heard strange noises and felt mysterious movements about his hind legs, he didn't wait for an explanation. Good-bye, rats ! Although the day dawned clear, dark clouds began early to bank in the Southwest, and before I could reach the next town I was drenched by a heavy shower. But I was fortunate in selling Cheese II, my weak-footed jack, 175 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK for seven dollars to the village butcher, who, while in Ashton, had generously fed my dog. Wet to my skin, I took refuge in a German tavern man- aged by a widow with five comely daughters. All were kind and responsive to my wants, and brought to my room a varied assortment of house pets, literature, and cheese, not omitting a bottle of beer, for my entertainment and refreshment, while I remained in bed enveloped in comforters, waiting for my only suit of clothes to dry by the kitchen fire. Meanwhile I became almost asphyxiated from the gas generated by the Limburger cheese which had already smothered two hearty slices of bread. The next day I spent in Dixon, and the following day in Sterling, situated on Rock River. From my bedroom window I had a charming view of the dam falls and the iron bridge which spans the stream. My sojourn in both these towns was profitable. It was a hot and dusty ride to Morrison, where I found a brass band serenading a leading citizen. "This won't do," said I ; and making Mac bray, I blew my bugle, and at once turned the tide of popularity in our favor. The fickle crowd soon gathered and cheered me to the hotel, while the jilted band had the brass to march down the street past me, blowing itself with might and main until lost to view, not once thinking that distance lent enchant- ment to my ear. Next day we made slow headway to the Mississippi. As I approached the "Father of Waters" the land, as well as my donkeys, were more rolling. Several times when wading through a pool of dust, Cheese III, alias Poodle, would suddenly stop, circle about, kneel and roll with all the paraphernalia he was carrying. Then my steed would follow suit, before I could get out of the saddle. 176 RAT TRAP AND DONKEY'S TAIL. Thirteen miles from Morrison lay the village of Fulton, on the banks of the Mississippi, and it was 4:30 P. M. before we arrived at the big high bridge. The bridge approach on each side of the river crosses a broad stretch of lowlands which at certain seasons is inundated. My donkeys refused to pass the toll-gate, although I had paid the toll. I demanded of Mac an explanation. He main- tained silence, as did Cheese, and neither of them would budge. A squad of laborers, amused at my plight, as- serted their donkey nature by imitating an ass's bray, and so perfect was the imitation that my animals took them for donkeys disguised in human apparel, and joined in the awful chorus. Presently a timid woman following us with a terpsichorean horse called to me and gesticulated wildly. I feared a runaway and was at a loss to know how to urge my contrary animals on, but before long a double dray team came to my assistance. The teamster roped Mac to the rear axle of his wagon, cracked his whip, and drove on, dragging the obdurate donkey on his haunches across the bridge, while Cheese crept closely be- hind in fear and trembling. When I had crossed the Mississippi it was exactly seventeen minutes past five. As we wended our way into Clinton, la., cheers greeted us from every quarter. "The streets were rife with people pacing restless up and down ;" but soon all footsteps fol- lowed in one direction, to the Reviere House, where I took advantage of the favorable circumstances to make a speech, and to dispose of a host of my chromos. I had traveled thirteen hundred and sixty miles, about one-third of the distance by trail from New York to San Francisco, and had consumed one hundred and sixty days ; and there was left me only one hundred and eighty- one days in which to accomplish the remaining two-thirds of my journey. 177 CHAPTER XXIII. BY MAC A'RONY. Hell is paved with good intentions. Samuel Johnson. How the Professor ever landed that lop-sided, dilapi- dated tile of his on the west bank of the Mississippi with- out a bottle of fish-glue is beyond me. The wind gave our whole outfit a good blowing up for not crossing the bridge earlier in the day, and Pod had to handle the hat as carefully as an umbrella to prevent it's turning inside out. Except at such times, we donks were the only ones to get a "blowing ;" the threats Pod used to coerce us across that lofty bridge and his final cruel expedient of having a double team drag me with a rope around my neck were enough to drive one to suicide. "We must reach Iowa to-day," said he. "You show ab- solutely no interest whatever in the next state; but I'll convert you." I protested until I was hoarse. Said I, "When you take into consideration all the different ani- mals that came out of the ark, monkey, parrot, man and ass, and the results of several thousand years of study and research, how many believe in any other state ? Only one. Man. There are a few horses and dogs and cats and, occasionally, a white rat, that enjoy heaven on earth, but we jackasses are always catching ! The last word of my peroration was spilled, as my master whacked me over the ears with his black-snake whip and knocked all the theological and theosophical considerations out of my head. 178 MAC CROSSES THE MISSISSIPPI. "Get along, there, Mac," he shouted, "and quit your everlasting braying;" and as the horses started, I "got," to save my neck. When we reached the middle of the bridge and I was over my dizziness, I slackened my neck rope and followed the wagon more willingly, but my fetlocks bled from scraping on the rough planks and my rich aristocratic blood painted a faint red trail behind us. It was a hot day ; I burned as with a fever, and wanted a drink. "And they call this the 'Father of Waters/ " my master soliloquized, as he watched the sluggish current creep un- der the bridge. "What do they call the father of beer?" I asked, facetiously, for I was mad. "Mac," said Pod, "you have brought me back to earth. Let us hurry to town." When we were on Iowa soil, the Prof, tied his "stove- pipe" over my ears with a green ribbon, and added insult to injury by making me parade into Clinton in that condition before all the genteel donkeys along the road. We stopped at the post-office, and Pod read on the way to the hotel portions of two letters, one informing him that his sombrero was at the express office, the other cast- ing aspersions on my race. "Yes, I did promise to meet you at the Mississippi and accompany you across the plains," the letter ran, "but really, old man, after reading your articles, I have concluded that I want nothing to do with a jackass." Pod seemed disappointed and, handing the envelope to me, said, "Here, Mac, what do you think of it ?" I greed- ily devoured the contents without a murmur, and the Pro- fessor galloped into the express office. "Do you realize that you have swallowed a postage 179 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK stamp?" Cheese asked, gravely, after I had stowed away the morsels of paper. "Most assuredly," I said, smacking my lips, "and here- after you can look upon me as a sort of internal revenue collector." But now Pod appeared under cover of a broad-brimmed hat, looking frightfully cowboyish. That evening the sombrero so completely unbalanced his head that he saun- tered up the street armed to the teeth, and attempted to "hold up" an Indian cigar sign, to the amusement and terror of passing pedestrians. Later on, he became more rational, and gave a street lecture. Friday, May seventh, was a lucky day for Pod and me. Friday is Pod's and the seventh of the month is mine, with a few exceptions ; hence, the Prof, has on an average of four and a half to my one. His first errand in Clinton was an act of courtesy. He called on Mr. Gobble, the genial Mayor, and obtained one of his quills to embellish the autograph album which was destined to furnish me a delectable repast, unless Pod should find a gold cure to destroy my appetite for sta- tionery. His second errand was to place an order for panniers to be made after his own designs, for they would soon be needed; and his third, to call at the stable and superin- tend a tonsorial artist clip Cheese III after the devil's de- signs. The circus had begun when he arrived. There, tangled in straps and ropes, lay the frightened subject on the stable floor, kicking, while several men were perform- ing rare feats of tumbling. Pod was indignant. "Is it necessary to pile on the donkey in that fashion ?" he inquired, starting up a ladder to the loft. "I reckon so, squire," said the clipper, rubbing his bruised arm ; "we tied the brute t' auger-holes in the floor, 180 MAC CROSSES THE MISSISSIPPI. but he yanked the holes plumb out o' the boards, and we bored 'em in agin. Then he brayed, and strained, and pulled out the holes agin. What's he been livin' on? Indian turnips ?" Pulled the holes out of the floor! Such an astonishing statement was enough to warp a donkey's credulity. But the operation was finished at last, and Pod returned to the hotel to answer some letters, one of which seemed to tickle him very much. It was from a farmer in the neighbor- hood, and I'll quote it word for word. CORNVILLE HOLLO w, IOWA, May 6, 1897. Prof. Pithygors Pod, Eskire, M. D. : Illustrious Sir: My wife has give me unexpeckted opertunety ter do ye the grate onner of namin our latest and last kid after ye and if ye cum this here way ye will see a namesake ye will be prowd of. Times are not so good with us of late but hope they air with you wishing you a sockses.sfull jurny I remane Yours fraternally CY SUMAC. I did not see Pod's reply, but I took him to the post of- fice to purchase a ninety-nine cent money order, which he mailed to Cy, and overheard him say that was all the money he had when he started and no man had a right to think he was any richer now, and hoped naming children after him wasn't going to become a fad. On our way to the hotel a little girl, walking with her papa, expressed the wish to ride on my back. Pod over- heard her, and jumping off, placed the little one in the saddle, and led me down the street. Pod is never safe without a chaperone. He had no more than got his land legs than a monstrous colored woman, whose avoirdupois was out of proportion to her 181 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK energy, and with shoes that made him keep his distance, stepped in his way, and with a grin half the width of an adult watermelon asked him if he was "shully dat wonder- ful traveler Pye-tag-o-rastus w'at was chasm' a mule roun de world." For a second Pod was somewhat colored, too ; but he laughed, and said he believed he was the gentleman. Then the old mammy held out a great black hand, with knotted fingers, looking more like an elephant's foot than anything else, and asked if she might have the honor to walk a piece with him. The Professor took the proffered hand, and the pair sauntered on down town, and were soon lost in the crowd. 182 CHAPTER XXIV. BY PYE POD. "Why, Toby's nought but a mongrel ; there's nought to look at in her." But I says to him, "Why, what are you yoursen but a mongrel ? There wasn't much pickin' o' your feyther an' mother, to look at you." Not but what I like a bit o' breed myself, but I can't abide to see one cur grinnin' at another. M ill on the Floss. The good old black mammy, who made my acquaint- ance on the street, called upon me at the hotel to present me with a little dog. I thanked her, and told her that one dog was all I could take care of; whereupon she ar- gued that I should visit the Indian Reservation at Tama City, and if I presented a dog to the Chief that I would be royally received. A good idea; I wondered it had not occurred to me. I accepted the dog. An hour later I came near being arrested for promot- ing a dog fight in defiance of the law. Don was gener- ous, however, and left a little of the cur for the Indian Chief, but next morning the sight of a bandaged and plastered dog being dragged behind my outfit was grue- some indeed. This is how I managed the dogs. I chained Don to one end of an eight-foot pole, and the mongrel to the other, so that the dogs could not get closer than four feet. Then I chained Don to the saddle-horn. I hoped to reach the town of DeWitt before dark. Everything went smoothly and I was congratulating myself on getting out of the city without a mishap, when, suddenly, both dogs leaped to the opposite side of my 183 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK donkey in the effort to reach a cat basking in the sun. The pole yoke caught Mac's hind legs and upset us, al- most causing a runaway. This and other incidents de- layed me many hours. On arriving at the village tavern, "The Farmers' Home," I was agreeably surprised to find the landlord not so much out of spirits as I. A "night cap," then to bed. Next day I rode sixteen miles, through the beautiful farming country to Wheatland. Nature was arrayed in Sabbath attire, and no sermon could have inpressed me more than the pure, sweet voicings of God's creation. Graceful turtle-doves, always in pairs, flitted in mid-air; bevies of quail whistled in the meadows and ditches; flying-squirrels, half winged, half jumped from tree to tree; and coy Norwegian girls scampered indoors as my "mountain canaries" now and then joined in a carol. Just before entering town a gay cotton-tail rabbit shied at my pistol ball, allowing the ball to graze a calf grazing in the field beyond, to wing a pigeon on a barn further on, and eventually to announce my advent to the towns-folk in a most singular manner. When I arrived, the church bell was faintly tolling, and a crowd of people were staring wild-eyed at the belfry tower. I inquired of a countryman what was up. "Blamed if I know," said the sexton; "I was jest set- tin' down to feed, when sudden I heard a sharp clang of the church bell. Sounded like it was hit with a ham- mer. Whole hour before church, and the doors are locked. Now I'd like to know what sot that bell to chantin'." "Go up and find out," I said. "Not on yer life," he replied. "You may think us folks superstitious well, we are. Lots of queer things hap- pen in this town." 184 POD HIRES A VALET. When I reached the privacy of my room, I did a good deal of thinking; but whichever way I reasoned I arrived at one conclusion. My pistol ball must have struck the bell after calling on the calf and the pigeon. It was merely a chant's shot. The landlord of the Siegmund Hotel did not venture close enough to shake hands. "Doos them dogs bite yes?" he asked from the ver- anda. "No," I answered, "they won't bite you and me, but they are very fond of each other." Don looked up at me appealingly, as if he thought he had been persecuted. When the donkeys and the mon- grel were in the barn, I turned Don loose. He was tickled, and ran round the barn three times, jumped over the hen-coop, upset the landlord, and then chased the house cat so that it climbed to the top of the hotel chim- ney. Most extraordinary dog; no common pastime sat- isfied him. The hilly country I was now entering made it neces- sary for me to walk half the time, as a precaution against wearing out my animals. But the air was sweet with lilac, tulip, violet and apple blossoms; blue and red and yellow birds serenaded me as I passed, all making me feel somewhat repaid for my winter hardships. The main street of Mechanicsville was beautifully shaded, and along the road-side was a tempting pasture for ruminating animals. As I rode along and admired the scenes, I recalled a sentence from the Scriptures: "Whatsoever cheweth the cud that shall ye eat." To the right, in the cool shade, reclined a gentle-eyed cow, chewing her cud; to the left, at the base of a magnificent tree, sat a pretty bloomer girl beside her bicycle, also chewing. I was puzzled. 185 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK On reaching Mount Vernon, I discovered, after dili- gent inquiries, that Washington had never been there, dead or alive. Cornell College, for boys and girls, dis- tinguishes the place as a seat of learning, and the stu- dents showed an abnormal appetite for knowledge by purchasing my books and photos. A few miles west I crossed a ridge of wooded hills, descended into a lovely vale, crossed Cedar River, and drew rein at Bertram, a mountain town consisting of a railroad station, side track, tavern, store, and two to three houses. From Bertram we mounted another and still higher ridge, from the summit of which I could see the great verdant valley, and, winding about it, a spiral cloud of smoke from the busy city of Cedar Rapids, where I ar- rived at six o'clock. That evening, after a lapse of nine years, I met my old friend, Steve D , who once had tramped Switzerland with me. After I had explained the cause of my unique pilgrimage and each had given an account of himself, he planned for me a pleasant two days' sojourn, and sug- gested it was time I had a useful traveling companion. As I moved westward, the towns would be farther apart and I would have to camp often on the highway. The services of an able and trusty man would save me much time. Steve said he would try to find him. Cedar Rapids contains some of the largest oatmeal factories in the country. I met through my friend sev- eral pleasant people, dined with his family, and was ten- dered a spread at the Grand Hotel, to which a few of his friends were invited. Meanwhile I found the man I was looking for. He was about twenty, had been night porter in a hotel, and was well recommended. Twice I refused him be- cause of his apparent inexperience in "roughing it," but 186 POD HIRES A VALET. I was won over by his persistence at the third call. He said his name was "Coonskin," and Wisconsin the State of his nativity. His attainments were something extraor- dinary. He could sling a Saratoga trunk into a first story window; had painted the highest church steeples, and broken the wildest horses; could skin all kinds of game, and, with equal facility, could "skin the cat;" in fact, he had made an enviable record in athletics, and had won several championships for sprints. He could swim like a frog, and, as for shooting, his comrades couldn't touch him with any kind of a gun. He was never ill, and had stood all kinds of exposures from hanging all night on a church steeple after his ladder had fallen, to riding on the trucks of a baggage car, as the result of the dis- banding of a theatre troupe. This Coonskin was a wonderful combination of re- sources; he was the very man I wanted. He wished to go with me for fun and experience, and was perfectly sat- isfied if I would defray his expenses. I took Coonskin at once to make the acquaintance of Mac, Cheese, Don, and the mongrel, and to be assigned to his duties. At nine o'clock the morning of our departure, he called at the hotel with a small bundle done up in a red handkerchief, and wearing a new pair of shoes. "What have you in that bundle?" I asked. "Everything." "Extra suit of clothes?" "Yep and patches for emergency." "Extra shoes already broken to your feet?" "Yep and chloride-of-lime and extra socks." "Brush and comb and tooth brush?" "Yep and corn plasters and curry-comb." "Extra suit of underwear and handkerchiefs?" "Yep. Pajandrums, too." 187 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK I smiled in astonishment, so small was the bundle. "Well done," said I, "after this you shall do all my pack- ing." I was gratified to note Coonskin's quick perception, his alertness to obey, and his capacity for memorizing. He did not have to be told a thing more than three times before understanding it, and his lively interest in my wel- fare manifested itself at the start. When I went to the stable at eleven o'clock, I found he had added to my itinerant kennel a bull terrier, which took to Don as fondly as Don had taken to the mongrel. I remonstrated. "The more dogs you offer the Indian Chief, the bigger time he will give you," said my valet. "Better keep the terrier; I'll preserve harmony." Glad to shift some of my responsibilities to the broad shoulders of this young genius, I returned to the hotel and dressed for luncheon. You may imagine how my heart was set aflutter when luncheon over, my valet rapped on the door and, ventur- ing a foot in the room, said, with the courtliness of a Sancho Panza, "Your highness' donkeys and dogs are at the door." My guests were as much amused as I, and accom- panied me to the street, where a crowd had assembled. I shall never forget the expression on my old friend's face when he saw the dogs yoked together. A second pole had been brought into use, and, Don and the mon- grel having become reconciled, the bull terrier was made a sort of pivot round which revolved the other two, a mean dog between two extremes. Coonskin said at first he had made the little mongrel act as the pivotal dog, but he had no sooner left the ani- mals than Don and Towser swung round and clinched in pugilistic style, and, had it not been for the efficacy of 188 POD HIRES A- VALET. the stable hose, with all hands at the pump, the mongrel would have soon been converted into sausage. It was nineteen miles to the village of Norway; we did not arrive there till eleven at night. Once or twice on the way Coonskin was prevailed upon to relieve me in the saddle for a couple of miles; but although his new shoes were paining him, as I could see from his gait, he was too "game" to admit it, and whenever I asked him to ride, protested that walking wasn't a circumstance with him. He would rather walk than eat. We found Norway asleep. After assisting Coonskin to stable the donks and secure the dogs, I perused a newspaper while my young neophyte went out to smoke. When he limped in, I noticed his coat pocket bulged with something he would conceal. I did not question him. But before retiring, I opened his door to give him orders for the morrow, and found him dressing his feet with Indian ointment, which he admitted he had pro- cured from the village druggist. He had with difficulty aroused the man from slumber, in consequence of which he was made to pay double price for his cure. Coonskin was somewhat embarrassed, but I praised his pluck in glowing terms, and put him at ease. Next day he was ready to take advice, by wearing his old shoes and riding most of the journey. 189 CHAPTER XXV. BY MAC A'RONY. What made Balaam celebrated as an astronomer ? He found an ass-to-roid. Old Conundrum. I had heard about the chilly climate of Norway, and was not surprised when we donks met with a cold reception. We had plenty of hay but no grain. Next morning the landlord said that he expected some oats soon after our departure. Pod had walked the last three miles, and warming up, had strapped his vest to the saddle, where I found it next morning. Peaking out of a pocket was a crisp five dol- lar greenback Now, a donkey likes anything that's green. I never had eaten a vest. But I determined to tackle this some- what tough corduroy "steak," and made a fair breakfast on it, not to speak of its garnishes of green money, lead pencils, and a scented lace handkerchief, the one my master had long carried in the left inside pocket. Save for the fact that I got a few sharp bones of a pocket- comb in my teeth, and a page of court-plaster stuck in my throat, I relished the repast. But not so the Professor. When he had searched some time for the vest, he looked at me. As luck would happen, I had left sufficient circumstantial evidence on the saddle to convict most any donkey, but no one in particular. However, I suppose I looked guilty, and 190 DONE BY A HORSETRADER. . my past record was against me. Pod was speechless a moment, then he made up for lost time, and said that he believed a jackass would devour a house and lot if he had the chance. "I don't know about a house," I replied, "but I know I could eat a lot if it were set before me." Then I caught it! By nine o'clock the clouds having dispersed, we start- ed for Blairstown. The Iowa farms were pleasing to my eye. Horses and cattle were cropping the juicy grass, hogs were shelling corn or taking mud-baths, fowls of all kinds were en- gaged in athletic sports trying to add some new feather to their plumage, and occasional bunches of sheep were standing in barnyards and corrals with wool pulled over their eyes, not knowing what to do with themselves. It looked like a Garden of Eden, where donkeys were ex- cluded. Finally we met a farmer with a team of lazy horses. Pod asked him if a donkey was a known quantity in those parts, and was told that a man by the name of K , living near the next town, owned two that he had been trying to give away. A mile beyond, we met a man in a one-horse gig, who had a word to say, too. One donkey knows another when he meets him. "Your name is K ?" Pod inquired. "That's the name I always went by," said the black- eyed, black-hearted man. I did not like his looks; I felt it in my bones that Pod was going to be "done" by him. When a man or donkey is over anxious to acquire something, he is pretty sure to make a blunder. On be- ing catechised, the man said his business was "hoss trad- in' some, farmin' some, and various some." "Hear you've got a donkey for sale," Pod observed. 191 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK "Nope," said K , "but I've got two of 'em. Sell both er none." "I was told you have tried to give them away," said Pod. The "hoss trader" threw one leg over the other, spat tobacco juice in Don's eyes so he couldn't see all that might a-cur, raked timothy seed out of his whiskers, and inquired, "Who was tellin' ye that?" "The fellow didn't give his name," answered Pod, "and I wouldn't undertake to describe his physical geography, but I could locate him if I wished to." "If I could lay my hands on him, I'd dislocate him," said K , snapping his eyes. When my master told about his travels, the lowan be- came interested, and showed signs of weakening on his ultimatum. Meanwhile, I discovered the subjects of the discussion grazing in a meadow, and brayed them a courteous "how to do," thus calling Pod's attention to them. The hoss trader was sharp enough to see it, and his animal instinct told him that vanity was Pod's weak point; so he opened up with a little blarney. "Now, Mr. Pod, I'm fair t' say I've sort o' takin' a likin' to ye, and I want to help ye along. I'll sell both my donkeys for ten dollars, er one for five and trade the other for one of your'n. Jest let your partner here run across the field and drive 'em over. I want ye to see 'em." Coonskin went, and K continued: "They're two as fine-lookin' jennies as ye'll run across in many a day, both healthy and strong not too young not too old often plow with 'em kind and gentle boy rides 'em everywhere fast, too, but no danger runnin' away. 192 DONE BY A HORSETRADER. Why, they're twice the size o' your'n, and '11 carry double the load." "I'm more than satisfied with my donkeys" (very flattering to Cheese and myself), Pod affirmed, "and only require one more. If I am suited with one of your donkeys, I am willing to pay five dollars for it, but I will not trade one of mine, nor will I purchase both of yours." By this time the animals arrived. They were certainly big enough, and as for the danger of their running away, they didn't act as if they could run ten feet if charged with a thousand volts of electricity. The farmer said he was bound to make a satisfactory deal with Pod some- how, and that if he wasn't convinced by the time we reached his house that both animals weren't superior to either of his (an absurdity on the face of it), then he would consider some other proposition. When we reached the house, Cheese and I were gen- erously fed, and Pod and Coonskin invited into dinner. Then K chased his donks around the yard, and felt them all over, and finally hoodwinked my master to buy one, and trade the other for Cheese. I could have kicked the daylight out of that man. When K was on his way to town with his five dol- lars, Pod came to the stable. My new companions were crabbed old spinsters, and raised some objections to go- ing with me. "Where are you bound?" one asked. "San Francisco," said I, "but I don't know where that is any more than do you. Guess it's land's end." Then I told them how far I had come, and that Pod said only a few days before that the journey had only begun; also, that he expected we donks would fall off some before 193 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK long, from which I inferred the fall would be gradual and the horrors of death prolonged. It was enough to frighten the wits out of any old maid, and it took a pitchfork, two hoe-handles and a crowbar to get those donkeys out of the gate. Then one of them balked, kicked, threw Coonskin, broke her halter, and ran back into the yard. She could run after all. That was enough for Pod. He rode me back into the yard, and told Coonskin to fetch Cheese out of the barn. And it didn't take him long to shift the blanket from that gray spinster to my old chum. "You just tell your dad when he returns," said Pod to K 's son, "that I don't intend to put up with any such game. He grossly misrepresented that donkey; it would take a week to travel a mile with her. As I have paid him for the other one, she belongs to me and I shall push her along with the outfit. But this animal," and he pointed to Cheese, "is mine yet awhile. Good-bye." "Do as you like," K , Jr., replied. "I know nothin' 'bout yer agreement." We covered the first mile in slow time. Coonskin's new steed was forever stopping, and straying out of the road to eat grass. The young man wore himself out keeping her moving by rapping her with the flat side of a hatchet. This big, brown jenny was made of the right stuff, but evidently lacked training and experience. We were yet a half mile to Blairstown when a young woman and a child drove toward us with a skittish horse. It acted as though it had never seen a donkey. It pricked up its ears, and snorted, and, so help me Balaam! in a jiffy that buggy was on its side, the girls on the ground, and the horse running to beat a cyclone. Luck- ily, the girls escaped injury. My master was as fright- ened as he was chivalrous, and assisting the girls to their 194 DONE BY A HORSETRADER. feet, invited them to ride us donkeys to town; which kind offer was respectfully declined. On our arrival, Pod took us to a blacksmith's to have the new donkey's fore feet measured for a pair of shoes. The smith seemed to be much taken with me, and said I had the smallest feet of all the gentlemen donks he ever met. The remark so tickled my vanity that I nibbled at his coat tail, whereupon he turned to me and inquired, "What kind of a donkey are you? Chinese?" "Not much/' said I, indignantly, "My name is Irishy, and I always supposed I was a thoroughbred Irish ass, but I'm beginning to believe I'm a roamin' donkey, af- ter all." I could see that Pod expected trouble from some quar- ter, but none of us knew just where the lightning would strike. The next village, Luzerne, lay fifteen miles to the west. My lady companion did not carry herself too gracefully, nor her rider, either. She was broad and flat across the hips, and, as Coonskin did not possess a sad- dle, he found it more comfortable to sit far back on her where he could get a good swing of the fence rail he sub- stituted for a whip. We were ambling peacefully along the dusty road late in the afternoon, when Pod broke the silence with a word to his valet. "Well, Coonskin," said he, "what 're you going to call your donkey?" "Damfino," said Coonskin; and he added, with a drawl, "Git ap." "You ought to have found a suitable name by this time." "I have named her," emphasized the young man. "Good!" shouted the Professor. "Let's have it then." 195 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK "Damfino," yelled Coonskin, with a wild swing of the fence rail. Pod's face turned on its axis with a puzzled expres- sion, as his eyes regarded the hopeful pioneer. Said he, "See here, young man, I know not whether my ears de- ceive me, or you are not up on my dialect; you say you have named the donkey, yet, when I ask the name, your answer implies a contradiction. Again, what is her name?" Coonskin drew a long breath, and said loud enough to be heard a mile away, "Damfino." As the fellow uttered the word, I dropped to the joke and, stopping in the road, brayed till my sides ached. A new light now came into the Professor's eyes, and he smiled. "Damfino, then, is the lady's angelic name," said he resignedly. "It's odd, it's not inappropriate. Let it stand." "Very well," returned Coonskin, "I will proceed with the ceremony." And letting the fence rail fall on his steed's rear quarter, he added, "In the name of the great and only Balaam, I christen thee Damfino." , It was an interesting event. Thenceforth Cheese and I resolved to be more choice in our language and decorous in our manners in Miss Damfino's presence; and we lived up to our pledge two hours before Cheese called Don and the bull-terrier bad names for accidentally upsetting Miss Damfino with their yoke, and I kicked the tired and panting mongrel in the neighborhood of its pants. 196 CHAPTER XXVI. BY PYE POD. Thou hast described A hot friend cooling. Julius Casar. It was nine o'clock in the evening. While we were chatting with the landlord of the only tavern in Luzerne, a portly, smooth-looking individual entered the room. He was clad in a great fur ulster and top boots. After a familiar "hello" to the landlord, he eyed me searchingly, and added, "Your name is Pod, ain't it ?" I said, "I believe so ; yours is what, don't it ?" Evidently not pleased with my expression, he instantly struck an attitude, or something equally hard, and an- nounced, "I'm the sheriff of Borden County, and have come for a jack belonging to Mr. K ." "Jack?" I interrogated; "boot-jack, apple-jack " "Just plain jack," interrupted the officer. "Well," I replied, carelessly, "I have no jack belong- ing to Mr. K , but I have the jenny he sold me for five dollars. Mr. K imposed upon me, and if he will refund the money, I will be only too glad to return his hundred-year old mule." Here K himself entered. He stormed about, and said that I told only a section of the truth. The sheriff gave his client a look, which quelled his ire for a moment, then, turning to me, said: "You talk reasonably enough, Mr. Pod, and doubtless mean right, i97 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK but Mr. K has sworn out a warrant for your arrest ; and if you don't want trouble and a double-jointed ad- vertisement just turn over to K- the jack he claims, and send your man back for the gray jenny." It may not seem strange that I was converted to the officer's way of thinking. "Take the donkey you claim," I said to K , "you have the advantage of me. I haven't time to fight my case in the courts." My black-bearded adversary now calmed his temper; his victory must have tasted sweet. I calculated the cost of the warrant and the sheriff's services to be at least ten dollars, since the officer had sacrificed angling for posse duty; although he was prevented from catching fish, there was a nice mess for me. With reluctant equanimity the man who had wished to help me along explained that he had boasted of hav- ing acquired one of Pye Pod's noted donkeys, but when he found I had outwitted him, he swore vengeance. On the other hand, the officer had conducted himself as a gentleman. "Here, Coonskin," said the officer, "take this dollar and fetch us a pail of beer;" and, turning to me, added, "we must drown ill feeling amongst us, for when you come this way again, we'll show you how to catch fish." By one o'clock next day Coonskin, weary, hungry, and morose, had managed to steer his slow "craft" into Luzerne and to moor it in front of the tavern barn. That closed the interesting event. On our way to Tama City I was greeted by a member of assembly, who tendered me an invitation from the Mayor to dine with them that day. Lounging about the shop doors and strolling the streets, on our arrival in Tama, were many stately, still proud redskins, who, when 198 POD UNDER ARREST. they espied me with the wealth of canines collected on my way, shied off the scent for "fire-water" and dogged my trail to the hotel. After dinner with the Mayor and Assemblyman, I escorted them to the stable to discover Mac A'Rony devouring a new hair-cushioned carriage seat. At once the Mayor wanted to buy that donkey outright, head and seat, for a round sum. On expressing my intention to visit the Indian Reser- vation, some three miles away, his Honor gave me let- ters of introduction to the Indian Teacher and the Indian Instructor in agriculture. There lived the Sac and Fox tribe of the Musquaques. I was told that they were one of the most primitive tribes in the States, holding on to the primeval, and often evil, customs of feeding on dog soup, indulging in various kinds of dances, living in tee- pees, or wickey-ups, and wearing bears' teeth, eagles' claws, scalps, skins and moccasins. As you know, I had long hoped to be welcomed as their guest. I was tired and weary of the care of my dog pack, and wished to present it bodly, save Don, to the Chief. About two o'clock we saddled and packed. When ready to start, a diminutive bicyclist, mud-bespattered and perspiring from a hot century run, he affirmed, wheeled up to the stable and, almost before catching his breath, introduced himself to me. "My name is Barley Korker," said he, "de champion lightest-weight wheelman in de United States, weighin' jest sixty-eight pounds. I'm jest troo wid a trip from New York in one month and tirty-two days. My bicycle was giv me by de Cormorant Club of Phil'delfia. De Bourbon Club of Chowchow Wheelman of Pittsburg put up five hundred dollars 'gainst de wall dat I couldn't go all de way to San Francisco and git dere. On de way 199 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK I hears of de great donkey traveler, Professor Pod, so I says, I'll jest catch up wid him, and mebbe he'll take me 'long wid him." I at once made the little fellow a proposition, which he accepted; if he would wheel ahead of my caravan every day, carrying a small flagstaff with a streamer con- taining the words, "Official Courier to Pye Pod," I would, as long as he gave satisfaction, defray his travel- ing expenses. Barley was delighted. He forthwith pur- chased a piece of plum-colored silk and a bit of white silk for letters, needles and thread, and, having once been a tailor by trade, when we went into camp that night said that he would make a beautiful streamer, one I would be proud of. He promised to have it completed in a couple of days. I had not more than finished my business with my courier, when a rustic-looking boy rode up on a white donkey, and called to me, "Want ter trade?" "Not anxious," I returned, but showed no signs of a desire to flee. "Trade with yer, if you give me five dollars to boot," said the enterprising lad. "I recalled how I had been swindled recently in a trade, and resolved to make a deal with that boy by hook or by crook. "Do you suppose I would think of trading this thor- oughbred Irish ass that has gone around the world for your common beast, just because mine is tired from fast and long traveling, and yours is fresh?" I saw I had made an impression; the lad dismounted, and examined Cheese IV, critically. " I hain't no money to-day," said the boy, "but if you'll give me two dollars to boot I'll trade." "What! do you want the earth?" I exclaimed. "Only 200 5 5^ POD UNDER ARREST. before dinner I paid two dollars to have this donkey shod. I don't intend to pay two dollars more to shoe your animal." The lad replied "All right," and galloped away, but had only gone a short distance when I hailed him. He came back without hesitation, and I then concluded a bargain. It was agreed that a blacksmith should take the new shoes off Cheese and put them on his donkey, and that I should pay him three dollars to boot. An hour later Cheese V was shod, bridled and saddled, and that afternoon became Coonskin's mount, Damfino car- rying the principal portion of our luggage, and Mac A'Rony his master. My party reached the Reservation in time for me to meet the Indian teacher before he left school, my courier having wheeled ahead to announce my coming. I was greeted warmly when I presented the Mayor's letter, was shown some of the lodges of the tribe, and made acquainted with a few of the foremost braves of the camp. The teacher was an admirable interpreter, and the Indians grunted approvingly at meeting such a noted personage as Professor Pye Pod. A fat old buck named Ne-tah-twy-tuck (old one), on being presented, extended me his hand, muttering, "How do?" His grip almost mashed my ringers. "Much dog," he observed, eyeing my pack with doubt- ful admiration. "Yes, too much," I replied; I want to visit Me-tah-ah- qua, your great chief, and give him a heap of dogs." The Indian grinned majestically, while his teacher turned his head to control his risibles. "Make pleasant?" the redskin grunted, and shook his head disapprovingly. Me-tah-ah-qua say no dog good old make tough soup." And the brave pinched one 201 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK of the mongrels, causing such a ky-eying that my inter- preter feared it would put the whole camp on the war- path. Presently an Indian boy notified the teacher that the chief had heard of Mr. Pod's arrival, and wished him to dine with him at his lodge. I accepted, and the boy de- parted; and soon afterward Coonskin and I were escort- ed to the chief's wigwam, taking my dog pack with me. Me-tah-ah-qua met us with a grunt, rubbed my nose against his until it became lopsided, and likewise greeted Coonskin. Then the chief waved us into the wigwam. He seated me on his right, and Coonskin on his left, while opposite to me he placed his disenchanting daughter of forty-five summers. Opposite the chief sat his first councilman, Muck-qua-push-e-too (young one), and at my right, at the entrance of the tent in full view of the host was seated our Government interpreter, seemingly much amused by the event. I lost no time in presenting my dogs to the chief, who in broken sentences, half Indian, half English, accepted the munificent gift in befitting words. The spread consisted of a wolf skin, and on it rested a large flat stone on which to stand the kettle of soup when ready. For some moments the chief regarded me searchingly, then said, "Me-tah-ah-qua wants big donk man to live with him and marry his only daughter Ne-nah-too- too. Me-tah-ah-qua will give him a bow and a quiver of arrows three seasoned pipes five ponies a new wicky-up two red blankets a deer skin bag full of dogs' teeth fifteen scalps taken by his father." The chief left off abruptly, as if for my answer, but I shook my head thoughtfully, and the chief continued: "If you will marry my daughter (here the chief 202 POD UNDER ARREST. glanced at me, then let his eyes dwell fondly on that aged belle of forty-five summers), Me-tah-ah-qua will make you chief of his tribe before he goes to the Happy Hunting Grounds. He will call your first born Chicky- pow-wow-wake-up." I was never more embarrassed, and eyed the damsel of forty-five summers, trying to persuade myself that she was beautiful and rich, and still shook my head. The old chief, seeing his inducements were not alluring, mo- tioned to his councilman to pass the pipe of peace. After we had all taken a puff at it, the kettle of dog soup was set before us, and we all dipped in our ladles, the chief first, and began to eat. When I first looked into that caldron of bouillon, I could see in my mind's eye, all kinds and conditions of dog staring at me, and almost fancied I could hear them barking. The soup wasn't bad, after all; it reminded me of Limburger cheese, in that it tasted better than it smelled. But Coonskin and I, and even our interpreter, ate sparingly (I use the word "ate," because there was so much meat in it). I learned from the teacher that the whole kettleful of soup was extracted from one small spaniel. "Dog gone!" I sighed. The feast at an end, I thanked the chief for the honor conferred upon me, shook hands with his daughter, and departed. Barley Korker, Mac A'Rony and the rest of the party welcomed me with glee, and soon we were marching over the hill toward the house of the Indian farmer. In front of a wigwam sat the chief's squaw, an old, wrinkled and parched woman of a hundred and five win- ters, weaving a flat mat ; a little way off two Indian boys were filling pails with sand, making believe they were at Coney Island; and still beyond I saw two squaws carry- 203 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK ing huge bundles of faggots for the wigwam fires, round which sat the lazy bucks, smoking. A half-mile further on we met the Indian Farmer, and I presented my letter of introduction. He extended me a glad hand, and invited us all to supper, and on the way to his house, enlightened me about Indian farming, and the results of our Government's efforts to civilize the savage tribes. The Reservation contains 2,800 acres of woodland and arable soil. After supper on bread and milk with the farmer, we travelers made our beds of hay and horse-blankets in the barn, and then followed the trail half way back to the Indian village, until we came to a house, where I dis- covered in the darkness its rustic incumbent leaning on the fence, smoking. There we lay down on the dry sod, lit our pipes, and listened for the first sound of the Indian drum beats which, the farmer told us, we would soon hear; that was the night for an Assembly dance, and the first drum beat was to assemble the tribe to its nocturnal orgie. As I reclined on the grass in the starlight that mild May evening, my mind recalling the harrowing tales of the early settlers of the West, the first sound of the drum beat sent a thrill through my frame. I mentally counted the weapons comprising the arsenal in our belts; and even Don crept closer to me and rubbed his face against mine. After a few moments' interim the drum again beat, but for a longer period, sounding something like the army long-roll, only more weird. The farmer said this was the signal for the dance to begin, so we strolled leisurely down the hill trail through the woods to the grotesque scene. A circular corral, fenced with three or four strands of wire, surrounded a pole driven slantingly in the ground, 204 POD UNDER ARREST.- and from the pole was suspended a very bright lantern. Already within the enclosure could be seen the dusky forms of the Musquaques, some of them grouped in a sitting posture, crosslegged, in the center of the corral, beating a large shallow drum resting on the ground; while maneuvring fantastically about them were four agile reds, clad in loose-fitting, bright-colored robes, feathers, moccasins and sleighbells, dancing, and pow- wowing frightfully. Finally we drew closer to the scene, and then an edu- cated Indian, named Sam Lincoln, welcomed us into the enclosure. He said he was a graduate of the Carlisle Indian School of Pennsylvania, and greeted us in the true American style, but he still loved the primitive cus- toms of his people. We sat on the ground against the fence, and occasionally one or another of the dancers would put a pinch of tobacco into the hand of Sam, seated next to me. "What was that he just gave you?" I asked of the Indian. "He give pleasant of tobacco," said Sam. "Show good feeling Indian not steal leave things around Indian no take Indian honest." By that sign of distrib- uting tobacco among his fellows, the tamed savage promises fair play among his tribe. The men alone danced. Before long, the squaws, one by one, came into the ring from various quarters with pappooses bound on their backs in shawls or robes, and squatted in a circle just behind the drummers. As the dancers became fatigued, I noticed that they would ex- change places with the spectators, most of whom were in dancing rig. Sam Lincoln, after a time, excused him- self politely and asked me to sit on his coat, reminding 205 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK me should I leave before his return not to forget to leave the strap he loaned me to tie my dog to a post. The weird proceedings were all too exciting for Don, and it was all I could do to prevent his making mince- meat out of the dancers and prowling squaws. The whoops and pow-wowing and yells were thrilling enough to frighten even a man "tenderfoot." Toward midnight speech-making began. The drum- mers stopped beating the drum, and an old patriarch walked from the fence toward the center group, and stood behind the squaws a moment in silence. Presently he softly uttered something that sounded like a prayer, to which all the dusky auditors responded feelingly at the close in a monosyllable not unlike "Amen." Then the drum-beating and dancing was resumed, continuing some moments, to be followed by another prayer. At last, a great pipe was put through a series of mys- terious calisthenics, and passed around among the drum- mers. At midnight the full, round moon rose above the wooded hills, and cast a broad, silvery sash across the ring, illuminating the weird and grotesque scene. Now a squaw entered with a large earthen jar and passed it around to all the Indians, the bucks first. I was igno- rant of its contents, as it was not passed to me and my white comrades. Fatigued from travel, I finally rested my head on Don's warm body, and went to sleep; and it must have been near one o'clock when Coonskin awoke me. Then we three, accompanied by my dog, started for the barn to lay ourselves out for a few hours' repose. I shall never forget that night. Sam Lincoln said that several members of the tribe, a few weeks previous, had gone to visit another branch of the tribe in Wisconsin, in the absence of which a "meet- 206 POD UNDER ARREST. ing dance" was held every fourth night, when the Indians appealed to the Great Father for their safe return. Sam told me that in all their various dances a different drum was beaten there was one each respectively for the snake dance, ghost dance, wolf dance, buffalo dance, peace dance, war dance, meeting dance, etc. The drum for the meeting dance, Sam pronounced beautiful, and "much nice" "seven dollars fifty cents worth of quar- ters on it all silver on drum fine drum much cost." The Indians valued their drums, evidently, more than any other of their possessions. We rested well that night in our haymow bed, al- though the rats kept the dog busy till morning, so Barley said; he was the only one of us three who failed to sleep soundly. We rose in good season, and traveled five miles to Mountour, Barley Korker wheeling on in ad- vance to order breakfast. He proved himself a good financier on this, his first, mission as Pod's official cou- rier, and pleasantly surprised me by having bargained for three twenty-five cent breakfasts for fifty cents. Before reaching Marshalltown, we met with a terrific thunderstorm, and rode up to the hotel at six o'clock in a drenched condition. 207 CHAPTER XXVII. BY MAC A'RONY. What the devil was the good of a she-ass, if she couldn't carry a sleeping bag and a few necessities ? Steven son. Our sojourn in Marshalltown was brief. Before leav- ing, my master purchased cooking utensils, so that he would not be compelled to travel more than he ought to in a day to reach a town; now he could cook his own meals. After going into camp the first night, Pod fetched out the cooking tools, and having saved up a huge appetite, went to work to get a fine supper. "Hello! Coonskin," said he, "what do you think? We've plenty of frying pans, but nothing to fry never once thought of buying grub." And three more disap- pointed, famished individuals I never saw. But when to get even they ate double their usual breakfast next morn- ing and were charged accordingly, Pod was enraged. We trailed through State Center, Nevada, and Ames to Boone, arriving at midnight, May 22d; and continued on next day to Grand Junction, where a farmer invited the men to sleep in his kitchen. Instead of accepting, they shared with us donks the comforts of the barn, where, after a supper, cooked at a safe distance from the hay-stack, Pod received a delegation of gay young chaps from town. They brought all kinds of prohibition drinks and eatables; the popping of corks kept me awake until a late hour. And when I complained, all I got was an invoice of corn on the ear. 208 ADVENTURE IN A SLEEPING-BAG. The Mayor of Jefferson, during our stop, presented Pod with a heavy shillalah that was intended as an orna- ment, but several times later, persuaded to do business. The Irishman, also, as a compliment to my ancestry, in- vited us all to dinner. After passing through Scranton and Glidden, two or three interesting incidents occurred on the road to Carroll. One night we were caught in a shower that seemed to settle down to business for the night. Coonskin thought he saw a barn in a meadow, so Pod sent him to investigate. He came back soon and said it was only a double corn-crib, built so a wagon could drive between, under a roof. All three thought it was just the thing; it was better than tramping through rain and mud. So we broke through the fence, and soon were unpacked and fed all the corn we could eat. The men made their bed in one of the big cribs of corn, the best they could with their scant blankets, and went to sleep. Pod told me that wasn't the first night he had spent in a crib. And I shouldn't wonder if that were so. I said I preferred corn on the ear to corn on the feet. It was a funny sight before the men arose. There happened to be several holes in the inner wall, and the men had twisted and turned about so much during the night in their dreams and to get the ears comfortably filled into their backs, that it resulted in Pod's head stick- ing out of one hole, Coonskin's foot out of another, and Barley's seat plugging another. When Pod awoke, his head was red as a beet; he found his feet higher than his head, Damfino having pulled the corn out of the hole during the night. So much did we donks eat that, before starting on the day's journey, our stomachs ached and doubled us all up. Then a ridiculous sort of runaway happened. A fat Irishwoman tried to drive a gentle horse past our party. 209 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK The pet stuck up his ears and stopped a hundred feet away; Pod called to the courageous driver to wait, and that he would send his man to lead the horse past us. But the woman yelled back that she could manage her own horse; so she whipped him on. To the left was a marsh deep from the heavy rains; and the frightened horse made a dash through it, but he hadn't run far before he stuck knee-deep, right beside us. The horse snorted and plunged, and tried to get away, but it was no "go." He burst the traces, and the frantic driver hollered so that I almost "busted" too. "Don't move your feet an inch, or you'll go over," Pod cautioned the woman, but she took it as a personal offense, and said her feet were all right. "Help me and Oi'll pay yez !" she implored. So Coonskin waded in and, tying the reins around the broken traces, led the horse on to dry land at a safe dis- tance. Then he held out a hand for his pay. "Phwat do yez want, ye poppinjay?" said the ingrate. "You promised to pay me if I would help you," replied the valet, soberly. "Ah, gwan, yez crazy loot!" she exclaimed. "Dish- pose of thim hathenish jackasses, ond yez will have money ond th' rishpect of the community." Coonskin was watersoaked up to his waist. But be- fore he could get to a hotel to change his clothes, our little courier met us coming into town, and inquired, "Hev yuse been havin' a fallin' out wid de crazy mule?" "Not by a blank sight," retorted the valet, in ill humor. He felt like scaring Barley, and he did. "Two women met us down the road a way driving a fractious horse horse got frightened at donks ran away upset wagon both women killed expect sheriff and posse after us 210 ADVENTURE IN A SLEEPING-BAG. with shot guns. You weren't in the muss and are safe. Here's my mother's address/' To say the fellow was scared half to death doesn't express it. It was his business to gather information and pace our party out of every town on the best road to the next. On this occasion he took us out on the longest road to Carroll, saying he had paced us on that road to elude pursuit. "Dey's method in my madness, Mr. Pod," said the excited fellow, leaping off his wheeel, to better explain matters. "If de whole blamed country's after yuse, do yuse tink I was goin' to let yuse be catched if I could help it? We sticks togedder, we do, tru t'ick an' thin, an' when de sheriff t'inks he is chasin' yuse one way, we's chasin' ourselves de udder way, see?" And our courier looked heroic. Pod said he was grateful, and slyly winked to Coonskin, who turned his head and grinned. At Carroll, Pod purchased some canvas for a sleeping- bag. He said he was tired of sleeping in barns and corn- cribs and such, and if he had a bed of his own, he would be independent. Barley sewed up the canvas for him, to save expense, and we left town with the patent bed. Of course, the men were anxious to put the thing into service. About nine o'clock, the three crawled in and soon went to sleep. The bagful of humanity rested on the sloping roadside where the grass was thick, their heads being at the higher end, their feet at the lower. We donks were up bright and early the next morning eating thistles, when, suddenly, I heard Miss Damfino giggling. She nodded toward the sleeping-bag, and I saw a funny sight. The seam at the foot of the bag had been ripped by the weight of the three bodies sliding down against it, and now six legs were sticking out 211 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK clear up to the knees, the feet turned skyward in all directions. In a lumber wagon opposite, a farmer sat taking in the curious sight with a phiz that would make a monkey laugh. One couldn't tell who or what was in that bag, except for human legs. Miss Damfino was so convulsed with merriment she just lay down and rolled. Now it happened that Cheese V was a droll wag, and chock full of innocent mischief, so as soon as his eyes lighted on that row of awkward-looking feet, he quietly strolled over to the sleeping-bag and commenced to lick the bare soles of those sensitive pedals. In a minute the peaceful bed looked as if hit by a cyclone. Such yells, I had never before heard. The men's heads were down so far in the bag that the terrified fellows didn't know which end to crawl out of first, so tried both ends at once; and, slap bang me! if that bag full of live things didn't begin rolling and hopping about the highway like a sackful of oats. One could have heard the hollaring a mile off. I laughed so hard I thought I'd die, and Cheese, Damfino and Don were weak from the strain of their risibles long afterward. The farmer almost rolled off the seat, but finally he pacified his excited horse, got down, and caught the animated beg before it jumped the fence, ripped it open, and pulled out the dazed men. For the life of me, I thought at one time the bag would reach the creek across the field, and drown the men. Cheese escaped detection for his prac- tical joke, and I, from the way Pod leered at me all day, knew that I got all the blame. 212 CHAPTER XXVIII. BY PYE POD. If I know'd a donkey wot wouldn't go To see Mrs. Jarley's wax-work show, Do you think I'd wollop him? Oh, no, no ! Then run to Jarley's Old Curiosity Shop. Dennison was still and peaceful when, at nine in the evening, we trailed up to its leading hotel, after a long and tiresome day's walk, for, to relieve Cheese and Mac A'Rony, Coonskin and I had journeyed half the dis- tance on foot. But we left next day in good season for Arion, taking it slowly, as Cheese was noticeably lame; he had stumbled in the darkness the evening before. At Arion, so aggravated was his injury, that I tarried a whole day, for I appraised him a valued animal. When I resumed the pilgrimage, I took it slowly, and relieved the animal from any burden more than his sad- dle. Coonskin and I took turns riding Mac, who was as chipper and strong as ever. He gloried in his health and vigor, and found amusement in chaffing his unfortunate comrade. The eve of May thirtieth was spent in camp a few miles from Woodbine. The following morning, when we were still two miles from town, my courier, who had preceded us, wheeled back in company with an old, white- haired man leading three white Esquimaux dogs. The stranger managed his sportive pets with one hand, and 213 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK carried a basket of apples in the other; and, introducing himself and shaking hands, he presented me with the delicious russet fruit, and welcomed me to his home in the distance as his guest for the holiday, a pleasure I was compelled to deny myself, for lack of time. According to his own account, he was a hermit and lived in the society of his canine companions, as he had the greater part of his seventy-five years. Content to subsist on the product of his little thirty-six acre farm, he denied himself the use of any portion of a small for- tune of $15,000 in gold which, he claimed, he had buried somewhere outside of that state ; nobody had ever helped him to a cent, and he resolved that no one should enjoy a dollar of his money. I put up at the Columbia Hotel, Woodbine, a pretty brick hostelry, and, after an enjoyable lounge in the par- lor, we all went out to see the military and civic parade, in keeping with the usual Memorial day custom. The band assembled from all quarters and kinds of quarters doors, windows, cellars, barns, corn-cribs, hay-stacks, hencoops, smoke-houses, etc., and without de- lay began tuning instruments. Their uniforms chal- lenged imitation. No two were dressed alike. Every horn was different; they tried to outvoice each other, when, suddenly, the bass drum banged away and upset the equilibrium of the horns, until the snare drums and cymbals interfered as peacemakers. At last, after much strain of nerve tissue, the medley of musical tools settled down to a good, sensible patriotic tune, which held sway for fifteen minutes. But the procession that followed the band beggared description. The band acted as leaders, the Grand Army followed as pointers, then trailed the wheelers carriages filled with citizens and farmers. There were democrat 214 A MAYOR RIDES MAC A'RONY. wagons, side-bar buggies, buckboards, carts, gigs, sur- reys, hayricks, baby carriages, wheelbarrows, goat carts, and velocipedes. Pedestrians then fell into line, and brought up the rear. To cap the climax, a big, fat man with inflated chest galloped past on a faded, wind-broken horse, and exhorted the excitable celebrators to strictly obey orders. "Remember, citizens," he yelled, " let us take care not to have any accident to-day, for we are not used to 'em here! " The procession had begun slowly to move forward, when suddenly the command was given to halt, and the bangity-bang, clapity-clap, rip-slap of wagon tongue against wagon boxes sounded like freight cars when the engine clamps on the brakes. The firearms carried looked as if they had been loaned by some museum for the event. They were muskets, match-locks, flint-locks, and minus-locks; Winchesters, Remingtons, Ballards, Floberts, Sharps, Springfields; shot-guns, muzzle-loaders and breach-loaders; blunder- busses; carbines, bean-shooters, sling-shots and cross- guns a most formidable looking arsenal. Such a pageant ! When the procession arrived at the cemetery, the hearse, filled with flowers, stopped in front of a newly made grave. Then the undertaker in black clothes and red cap, seated beside the driver in blue coat, white trousers and stovepipe hat, banged a bass drum in his lap with an Indian club, as each floral piece was placed on the several soldiers' graves. Presently my attention was directed to a new excava- tion, before which solemnly stood Coonskin, as immov- able and statuesque as a marble slab; and soon I ob- served an aged woman approach, bend toward the human statue, and read the pathetic epitaph on his back: "Take Blank's cathartic pills and keep healthy." 215 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK "Poor boy!" she exclaimed, sorrowfully, a pity to have died so young." That was too much for Coonskin, who instantly re- sumed consciousness, and wheeled about, as the fright- ened mourner gasped, "Bless my stars, alive!" When Mac took in the situation he brayed with merriment, almost shaking me out of the saddle. The interesting proceedings concluded with a volley fired over a grave, and at once bird shot, buck shot, salt pork, hickory nuts, marbles, acorns, beans, and pebbles rained about us frightfully. When the firing was through, I assisted a quack doctor probe for a number one duck shot in Barley's shoulder and an acorn in Coon- skin's leg. As I mounted my terrified donkey, I noticed the old woman had fainted. Bending over her was a gallant fellow countryman trying to fan her back to life with his broad-brimmed hat, while exposing patched trousers to an admiring crowd. As soon as she came to, we started for the hotel, congratulating ourselves on our narrow escape. Next day we set out for Logan. Our arrival was sig- naled by an assembly of townspeople, headed by their Mayor, who greeted me cordially and asked to ride the celebrated donkey. He rode Mac up and down the cen- tral street before the cheering throng, as had the Mayors of other towns we had visited. Then I delivered a lec- ture on my travels, on a corner of the business street, after which Coonskin, who had lately received his banjo- guitar from home, accompanied me with my mandolin, recently purchased, as we gave a short serenade of music and song that made everybody sad and wish we would depart. The morrow was the first of June; I welcomed sum- mer joyfully. Missouri Valley was reached in the after- 216 A MAYOR RIDES MAC A'RONY. noon, and there, with my dog chained in the cellar of a hotel and the three donkeys stabled, we men retired and slept the sleep of the just. The further I journeyed, the more primitive and squatty were both dwelling and store in small places, and the architecture reached the superlative of simplicity on the plains; but I observed more of a passion for flower gardens and shrubbery evinced west of the Mississippi than east. The great bluffs characterizing the banks of the Mis- souri now loomed up, verdant and picturesque, after the genial showers and sunshine of spring. Every turn in the road presented a Different kaleidoscopic effect to the landscape. Wild roses lined the roadside as we passed in review with our hats trimmed with blossoms, and songbirds caroled sweet melodies from early morn till eventide. Pure springs and wells were ever within reach, and the farmers treated us to brimming bowls of sweet milk and buttermilk. One day, after imbibing freely from a barrel of buttermilk, standing against the porch, where I was chatting with the housewife, I was aston- ished to see a calf walk up to the barrel and drink. After that I lost my appetite for buttermilk. All through Iowa were droves or bunches of white- faced cattle, the predominating breed. I was told that the white-faced cattle make the best beef, which seemed to sustain the theory early advanced by the Indians, that pale-faces made the best roasts. During the last few days, I noted a happy change in Damfmo's demeanor, and a marked improvement in Cheese's tender feet. Damfino traveled faster and more smoothly, her long ears swinging back and forth with every stride like pendulums of a clock and apparently assisting her to walk to regular time. 217 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK Just as we were trailing out of Crescent City, a woman presented me with a large bouquet of flowers. I had intended to travel ten miles that lovely June night, but when some five miles from town, on observ- ing an inviting grassy lot, I decided to go into camp. We let our donkeys roam at will and graze, and spread our sleeping-bag under an apple-tree; then, with Don on guard and with the gleaming stars beaming on us through the boughs, we enjoyed a delightful sleep. At dawn we were awakened by the owner of the property, a short, crabbed individual, who lifted a dirty face above the top fence-rail and called, "Git out," to us. I was awfully sleepy and dozed on luxuriously. After a while he again hailed us, now from the opposite quar- ter, but still on the outside of the enclosure, where I could see him eyeing disapprovingly my huge dog. Fnally we induced him to come into our camp, on the promise that our dog wouldn't molest him, and even invited him to breakfast with us. When we departed he was in good spirits. He said he lived "over in that house yonder all alone," because he couldn't afford to live ''together." Of course, we understood. He in- formed me that we were following the old Mormon trail to Council Bluffs, where Mormonism and bigamy flour- ished for a season before the historic band of pilgrims crossed the Missouri in 1848. Thursday, June third, my donkeys ambled into Council Bluffs. 218 CHAPTER XXIX. BY MAC A'RONY. He was mounted upon a mule, which he rode gineta fashion, and behind him, by the duke's order, was led his Dapple, adorned with shining trappings of silk, which so delighted Sancho that every now and then he turned his head to look upon him, and thought himself so happy that he would not have exchanged conditions with the Emperor of Germany. Don Quixote. The city of Council Bluffs is four miles from the Mis- souri River, and takes its name as many people do, from both sides of the house. Council comes from the old Mormon councils formerly held there, and Bluffs is bor- rowed from the bluffs on which the city is built. Often such things are handed down for many genera- tions; the Mayor seemed to be constructed on the bluff order. He had the consummate cheek to tell my master he wasn't allowed to sell photographs without procuring a license, and thought he had squelched him, but he al- most fell out of his chair when Pod nonchalantly pulled out a fifty dollar bill and said, "Just make out a license at once." Then he went to work and did a land-office business, taking more money out of the town than the Mayor could put into it in a year's time. Next morning Miss Damfino went shopping, coming back with a brand new pair of shoes. She said she saw lots of donkeys shopping, and began to distribute to a stableful of equine and asinine gossips such a lot of scan- dal that I was ashamed of her. She had also discov- 219 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK ered the startling fact that there was one more river to cross. "Furthermore," said she, "our highfaluting, aris- tocratic, literary genius, Mac A'Rony, is to enjoy the dis- tinction of crossing the great Missouri River Bridge in a wheelbarrow." This caused me to collapse. I fell on my knees and preyed on the bed of yellow straw, and brayed aloud for spirituous support, but all I got was a bucket of water. An hour afterward I was saddled for the show. I had experienced riding in a wheelbarrow be- fore, and did not like the idea, but said nothing. Sure enough, when we arrived at the bridge, there stood a wheelbarrow, just brought by a wagon from the Bluffs. I eyed the vehicle disdainfully. That was the same kind of carriage that a man once went to London with to fetch a wife home in, and now, as a fitting jubilee memorial of that historic event, I, a respectable scion of an ancient race, was to be toted across a bridge into a great city in this outlandish vehicle, to the cheers and jeers of a multitude. The event was heralded in the morning papers of both Council Bluffs and Omaha ; I saw Pod reading about it on the way. At the bridge, I was at once unsaddled, and my luggage distributed equally between Cheese and Damfino. The quilts and blankets were folded in the wheelbarrow, and with the help of two men Pod and Coonskin lifted me into the one-wheeled carriage, where I was strapped and roped so securely I couldn't budge without upsetting. Pod wheeled me a short way first, then Coonskin relieved him ; in this way I crossed that bridge of size. When half way, I thought I would be easier if I turned over, for it was an awful long bridge; in a minute I was on the bridge proper, the wheelbarrow on the top of me, im- proper. Wasn't Pod mad though! A street-car line crossed the bridge, and cars full of curious passengers 220 ACROSS THE MISSOURI IN WHEELBARROW. were passing continually, having paid extra, I reckoned, to see the circus. I had to be untied, and again deposited in the wheelbarrow, and do you believe, those human jackasses didn't have sense enough to lay me on my other side. Then another distressing circumstance happened soon after. I could see the street at the Omaha terminus jammed with people as on a Fourth of July, but that didn't matter; a horse-fly buzzed around me a minute prospecting, and suddenly made his camp-fire on my lett hip. Soon the fire burned like fury, and I not able to stand it, made one super-asinine effort, ripped and tore, and upset myself and Pod, who was wheeling me. Then the crowd cheered louder than ever. Some boy with a large voice yelled, "Hurrah for Mac A'Rony !" and three cheers were given. "I think he'll walk the rest of the way, "Coonskin," said Pod, referring to me. "Save us the trouble of fixing him in the wheelbarrow again." Thinks I, I'll just get even with the Professor at once, and I lay down as if I were in a barnyard for the night. It didn't take those men long to put me in the wheelbar- row again, I tell you. This time Pod didn't seem to care whether I was all in or not. My tail caught in the spokes of the wheel, and wound up so quickly that I was nearly pulled out on the bridge. The wheelbarrow came to such a sudden stop that Pod fell all over me. At first I thought I had lost my tail by the roots. It was sore long after. Couldn't switch off flies with it, and had to kick at them, and ten times out of nine I'd miss the fly and kick my long-legged rider in the leg or foot, whereupon I would catch it with whip and spur. At length we crossed the bridge, and there I was dumped; then I had a good roll in the dust, just to show 221 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK there was no hard feeling; after which a host of in- quisitive spectators followed us to the Paxton Hotel in Omaha, where we were to have a two days' rest. Good fortune began to fall before us now like manna from the sky. The first morsel came in the manner of a proposition for Pod and me to pose in front of a leading apothecary's shop in the business center, and extol the vir- tues of fruit frappe, and incidentally his perfumed soaps, insect powders, and dog-biscuits, in consideration of several dollars in silver. The frappe clause of the con- tract was most agreeably cool and delectable for that sum- mer season, and the sample doses of the various ices to which Cheese and I, not to mention Pod, were treated, furnished rare sport for an appreciative audience. The cheerful proprietor, recognizing my blue blood, attempted to feed me with a long, silver spoon; I so admired the spoon that with my teeth I stamped it with our family crest. As the demand for frappe increased, the brass-but- toned society began to gather from the four points of the compass, and finally attempted to arrest Pod for block- ing the thoroughfare; and, but for the timely arrival of the druggist, there would have been a riot. Coonskin had two guns in his belt, and Pod declared he would not be taken alive. On this occasion, besides the money received from the druggist, Coonskin sold many chromos, for the wily Pro- fessor was far-seeing enough to work in considerable non- sense about his travels, and got even the police so inter- ested that several cops wedged through the gang and purchased souvenirs. We made a pretty fair street show. All were there but Miss Damfino, who felt indisposed and remained indoors. 222 ACROSS THE MISSOURI IN WHEELBARROW One of our severest crosses (some folks think the ass has only one cross, and that on its shoulders), was ex- perienced a few miles southwest of the city, where we donks refused to walk a narrow plank over a shattered bridge, and were forced to ford the stream. 223 CHAPTER XXX. BY PYE POD. We may live without poetry, music and art ; We may live without conscience, and live without heart ; We may live without friends ; we may live without books ; But civilized man cannot live without cooks. Lucile. It was my good fortune to obtain in Omaha a most adaptable teepee tent, a triangular canvas bag, as it were. One man could put it up in a minute. This waterproof tent had a canvas floor stoutly sewn to the sides, and when the door was tied shut neither sand, water, nor reptile could invade its sacred precincts; mos- quito netting across the two smaal windows kept out all kinds of insects. Three could sleep in it comfortably, besides allowing ample room for luggage and supplies; and the tent with its folding poles only weighed thirty pounds. This extra baggage was added to Damfino's pack, for she was large and strong, and by this time in good traveling fettle. I could now thoroughly enjoy the outdoor life of the West, with its fresh and fragrant air; after sleeping a few nights under the stars, only some imperative emer- gency could induce me to spend a night indoors. Al- though my two attendants were not companions of choice they were fairly good company, but my courier unconsciously furnished entertainment for Coonskin and myself. He had such an absurd dialect he said he had learned it in an eastern factory where Irish, Germans, 224 POD IN INSANE ASYLUM. and Swedes, and other nationalities were employed and his gullibility was a constant challenge for practical jokes. One day at supper, an idea of putting up a game on Barley came to mind. "It's a pity we haven't blue beetle sauce for our quail, Coonskin," I said, giving my valet a sly wink, and he, suspecting I had some joke in mind, took up the argu- ment. "You bet," was his response. "Seen hundreds of bee- tles to-day." Barley eyed Coonskin, then me, and satisfied that we were serious, queried, "Do yuse mean wese kin make sauce of de blue beetles what wese see in de road?" "Why," I said, as with astonishment, "haven't you ever heard of it before? Man, they pay a steep price for blue beetles at Delmonico's. Only the wealthy enjoy such a luxury." "The dandiest stuff I ever et on broiled birds of any kind," seconded my valet cleverly. The repast over, my courier was convinced of the surpassing virtues of blue- beetle sauce. Next day the bettles came out thicker than ever. With enthusiasm, I dismounted, and began to fill my emptied purse with the insects, and Coonskin followed suit by filling a handkerchief, exclaiming: "By the very old Ned! Gather 'em all; we'll have a treat for the gods." Up to this, Barley kept on his wheel within talking distance, but now he leaped off and made a dive in the dust with his hat, as if he had trapped a butterfly. "Re- member, man," I called to him, "there should be seven- teen in every family; bag every one of them." "Here's fourteen Ise got, guess dey's one family, but can't see no more; besides my handkerchief's full. Has 225 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK yus got a sock yuse kin lend me?" I said I had, and then he came to get the sock. His trousers pockets were filled with the strong smelling beetles. Suddenly, he dived for a whole entomological tribe almost under Mac's feet; had the donkey not leaped over him, we all would have been hurt. We lunched in a small village where I purchased pep- permint oil for flavoring the sauce. That night, I made a concoction that would only satisfy a Siwash appetite. We had bagged two dozen quail and doves, so we had plenty of game, and an abundance of beetles; the next thing in order was a heap of fun. After frying our potatoes, gun oil, peppermint oil, pink tooth-powder, butter milk, lemon juice, and beetles were stirred in the frying pan, and when it began to sizzle and steam, Barley was put in charge and cautioned to keep stirring it. I thought, when he looked at the repelling mess and inhaled a little of those bug aromas, he would smell the joke, but he didn't. He kept on stirring, and smacked his lips, and finally said that it looked done. I decided to bring the joke to an end. Going to the fence ostensibly to tie more securely the donkeys, Coonskin loosened Damfino's rope while I seated myself at our table, and called, "Supper is ready." At once that grin- ning youth chased the freed donkey plumb into our fire, and so surprised was my courier that he never knew whether Damfino or Coonskin kicked over the pan, and robbed us of the rarest delicacy on record. I stormed about like a madman, and blamed both at- tendants, then went at the hot broiled birds inwardly delighted with the success of the joke. Barley never was the wiser. The following day, several times, he told me we were passing lots of beetles, but he wasn't going to spend his time catching them to be wasted. 226 POD IN INSANE ASYLUM. Something followed the game supper which more fully explains my courier's displeasure. By over- sight, one of the socks of bugs was left untied; the result was, beetles ran the tent all night. Barley claimed he found a beetle in his windpipe. Coonskin spent the night lighting matches and hunting the pests. I myself smothered a score of more in my pillow. That experi- ence closed my calendar for practical jokes. On to Lincoln was now the watchword. While still five or six miles from the city, a donkey and cart hove in sight, both gayly decorated with flags and bunting. The driver said he had been sent from Lincoln by a prominent citizen to escort me and my party into the city. Barley had been busy stirring up the populace, so when I rode majestically up to the leading hotel on Mac A'Rony, I found a crowd of representative citizens there to give me a befitting greeting. As soon as my don- keys were anchored, a tall, fat, jovial member of the med- ical profession, advancing with outstretched hand, wel- comed me to the city. "Mr. Pod," said he, smiling all over, "I'm Dr. E and am at your service. I shall take pleasure in doing what I can to make your sojourn a pleasant memory." The first thing the Doctor did was to take me to the Executive Mansion. We found the Governor absent, but easily traced him to a local sanitarium, where my escort found him on a couch, wrapped in swaddling clothes, apparently secure from all intruders but the genial Doctor himself. He had just finished a Turkish bath, but he sent the Doctor for me at once. "We meet under difficulties," was his Excellency's smil- ing greeting. "I'm trying to knock out an attack of rheumatism." 227 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK "True enough," I acknowledged, extending my hand, "both of us are flat on our backs." Gov. Holcomb then wrote some hieroglyphics in my autograph album, and expressed the hope that I would not find it as hot on the desert as I did in that room. Our next stop was at a soda fountain. Then we vis- ited a leading clothier where I procured a contract to direct, with Mac's assistance, the public's attention to alluring bargains in its show-windows. For this I re- ceived a five dollar note. My first evening in town was pleasantly spent in the company of Mrs. Bryan, who, on learning that I was in town, invited me to call. I remained in the last evening to rest, while Coonskin and Barley took a trip to Burlington Beach, a famous local watering place. "Wese taught, yuse see," said my little courier, in the morning, "dat it was something like Coney Island; so it's bein' only ten cents round trip dare, wese takes de trolley an' goes down. "Well, yuse oughter seen de place. Before wese gets dare it begins to smell why, Coney Island ain't in it fer smells. Den wese gets off de cars and shuffles our feet across a long wooden bridge over on to a island, where dare was a dance hall and lots of girls of all kinds and canal boats, and dongolas, and drinks, and beers talk of beers! say, wese had a tank dat high fer a nickel. Yuse see, de beach is on a island in a counter- feit lake, made of salt wells and sand, but day ain't no oysters, ner clams, ner crabs, day's nothin' but bad smells but say, yuse oughter seen de lobsters crawlin' round wid dere sweethearts on dere arms! Say, dem peoples t'ought dey was havin' a big time. Gee, I wished day could see once Coney Island!" 228 POD IN INSANE ASYLUM. We had not journeyed far beyond Lincoln Park be- fore we approached the State Asylum for the Acute Insane. From the beginning of my pilgrimage, I had kept a sharp lookout for Insane Asylums, always passing them after dark, but Mac argued that the public had by this time found me harmless, and advised me to call. So I did. "A patient has arrived," some one called to an attend- ant. I was startled, but soon recovered my equilibrium, when I observed several doctors and nurses rush out of doors to a carriage at the porch. The lunatic having been safely deposited in one of the wards, the Superin- tendent then welcomed me, and persuaded me to accept his invitation to visit and inspect the institution. There was only one department that interested me. I had no sooner entered the kitchen than my omnivorous eye caught the pie-ocine stratum of a well-developed pie, and my curiosity led me to inquire if it were made by a lunatic. "Why, most certainly, Professor!" exclaimed the Su- perintendent. "What's the matter with it?" "As far as appearances go, I think it's all right doesn't look different from any other pie I've seen and eaten. Shouldn't think a crazy man could make a decent pie, though; did he do it all alone, without anybody watching him?" "Oh no, we employ a sane cook to supervise the cook- ing," explained the officer, much to my satisfaction. "Will you have a piece ?" he asked. "Y-y-y-y-yes," I said incredulously, "if you are sure there is no danger of insanity being transferred to me by such a delectable agency." The head cook then butchered the great pie into quar- ters, and the Superintendent said, "Help yourself, boys/' 229 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK I gathered up the juicy quarter, and saying, "My good sir, you have heard of dog eat dog, you shall now witness Pye eat pie." I proceeded to devour it. I couldn't recol- lect ever having eaten better pie; I was almost prompted to ask the cook to slaughter another, but, instead, car- ried the remaining quarter out to Mac A'Rony. When we had left the asylum, I could not help but re- mark the scrutiny with which each man regarded the other. At length we went into camp near a farm house, where we certainly acquitted ourselves in a manner to arouse the suspicions of any sane observer. We put our sleep- ing-bag on the ground outside of the tent, built a fire close to the tent on the windward side while a strong breeze was blowing, cooked creamed potatoes in the coffee pot, and steeped tea in the frying pan; and Coon- skin tied all three donkeys and the dog to a small sap- ling by their tails. I felt sure that insanity was breaking out in our party in an aggravated form, and congratu- lated Cheese, Damfino and Don for not having eaten infected pie. Camp Lunatic, as we called it was visited by the owner of the farm, a hospitable German, who had a large fam- ily. He gave us a generous donation of corn-cobs for fuel, milk, butter, fresh eggs, and water, then introduced his wife and children. I asked him how he came to have such a large family. He explained that he had a large farm and couldn't afford hired help, and he thought the best way to remedy the difficulty was to rear boys to help him. He looked hopeful, although he had eight girls, no boys. Supper over, the farmer conferred on me every pos- sible honor, even letting me hold his youngest girl, a child of ten months. He said, enthusiastically, he was 230 POD IN INSANE ASYLUM. going to name his boy after me; the wife smiled heroic- ally. To cap the climax, I was asked to write my name in the big family Bible. The book was in German. My host opened it to a blank page, and, without com- ment, I inscribed my name underneath the strangely printed heading Gestorben, thus pleasing the whole family. When we reached our tent, Barley began to find fault with me. "What for did yuse want to write your name on de Gestorben page?" he asked seriously. "Dat means bad luck, dat does." "And why?" I inquired, puzzled. "Gestorben is German and means death, yuse crazy loon!" he returned. It's de lunatic pie dat's workin* al- ready; wese all goin' crazy." Next day was hot. In the afternoon my party rested three hours in the shade of a peach orchard, where we were treated to ice cream by the kind lady of the house close by. It was about 105 miles from Lincoln to Hast- ings, and we covered it in five days. Threading the villages of Exeter, Crete, Friend, and Dorchester, we arrived in Grafton, where I caught my courier in a dishonest trick, and discharged him. The party reached Hastings Thursday, June 17, where I purchased a saddle for Coonskin. Detained by a thunderstorm, we passed a miserable night in close quar- ters. Next morning, Mac pranced about like a circus donkey, and trailed to Kearney in a manner almost to wind his fellows. Before leaving Hastings, the Superintendent of the Asylum for the Chronic Insane, three miles out of town, telephoned me to stop and dine with him. On this oc- 231 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK casion I rode into the asylum grounds without hesita- tion or nervousness. "You must earn your grub, according to contract, Professor," said the Superintendent, when the greetings were over, pointing to a wood-pile in the rear of the building. As soon as I fairly began to comply with the suggestion his young lady secretary, the daughter of a deceased and much esteemed congressman, trained a camera on me and the axe and secured a picture. I was then notified I had more than earned my dinner, and was escorted into the family dining-room, where an enjoyable repast was accorded me, after which, some twenty wardens and matrons purchased photos at double price. Then I resumed the journey with more heartfelt blessings than had been expressed to me on similar oc- casions. The trail was superb. But an intensely hot spell fol- lowed, and made all of us perspire. Two days of hard travel brought us to the old Government Reservation of Ft. Kearney, established by Gen. Fremont on his historic overland trip to California in pioneer days. The fort has long since been abandoned. There the Mormons camped for a short period after leaving Coun- cil Bluffs. Next evening, I made my camp on the site of the no- torious Dirty Woman's Ranch of early days, and spent a Sunday in delightful rest and recreation in the shade of the grove of wide-spreading elms and cotton-woods that sighed mournfully over the deserted scene. We crossed the long, low bridge over the Platte, early in the morning. It required nearly an hour and all our wits and energies to get the donkeys across, even after blindfolding them. And when my party ambled into Kearney, that sultry, dusty June day, grimy with dirt 232 "Trail through the timber." "He had caught a nice mess." 'Climbing Pike's Peak." POD IN INSANE ASYLUM. and perspiring, we all were in ripe condition for a swim. The little city looked to be about the size of Hastings, but did not show the same enterprise and thrift. In fact, the inhabitants ventured out in the broiling sun with an excusable lack of animation, and seemer to show no more interest in their local affairs than they did in Pye Pod's pilgrimage. It was here I first saw worn the Japanese straw helmet. It served as a most comfortable and ef- fective sun-shade, and purchasing a couple, we donned them at once. Kearney is said to be the half-way point, by rail, be- tween New York and San Francisco. My diary, how- ever, showed I had covered fully two thousand miles of my overland journey; I had consumed 227 days, with only one hundred and thirty-four days left me, the pros- pects of accomplishing the "feat" in schedule time looked dubious enough. The great Watson Ranch, when my donkey party ar- rived, was experiencing its busiest season. But, while the male representatives were in the fields, the good matron in charge of the house made us welcome and treated us to cheering bowls of bread and milk. When Mr. Watson, Jr., arrived, he showed us about the place and enlightened me about alfalfa, of which he had over a thousand acres sown; fifty hired hands were busy har- vesting it. For a week or two we had, for the most part, been trailing through the perfumed prairies at an invigorating altitude ranging from two thousand to nearly three thou- sand feet, inhaling the fresh, pure air, gazing on the flower-carpeted earth, and enjoying a constant shifting of panoramic scenes of browsing herds, and bevies of birds, and occasional glimpses of the winding Platte and the sand dunes beyond. 233 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK The cities and villages, that formed knots in the thread of our travels on the plains, came into view like the in- coming ships from the sea. At first one spied a white church-steeple in the distance like a pointed stake in the earth only a mile away, but soon the chimneys and roofs and finally door-yard fences would come into view, then what we thought a village, nearby, proved to be, as we journeyed onward, a town of much greater size seven or eight miles beyond the point of calculation. The crossbars on the telegraph poles, along the straight and level tracks of the Union Pacific, formed in the eye's dim perspective a needle, as they seemed to meet with the rails on the horizon. Little bunches of trees, scattered miles apart and then overtopped by the spinning wheel of an air motor, indicated the site of a ranch-house where we might procure water. The trail ahead became lost in a sea of flowers and grasses. From time to time, as I dismounted to ease myself and little steed I picked from the stirrups a half dozen kinds of flowers, ensnared as my feet brushed through the grasses. Great beds of blood-red marshmallows; natural parterres of the wax-like blooms of the prickly pear; scattering stems of the flowery thistle with white corollas as large as tulips ; and wild roses and daisies of all shades and colors the white and pink, and the white wild roses being the first I ever saw ; these with varicolored flowers of all descriptions were woven into the prairie grasses and likened the far-reaching plain to a great Wilton car- pet enrolled from the mesa to the river. Some of the sunsets were gorgeous. At times, the western sky glowed like a prairie fire; and the sunrises were not less magnificent. Sometimes, we were over- taken by severe electric storms, and obliged to pitch the tent in a hurry. When the lightning illuminates the 234 POD IN INSANE ASYLUM. plains at night, the trees and the distant towns are brought into fantastic relief against the darkness, like the shifting pictures of a stereopticon. A flash of lightning to the right reveals a church or school-house, to the left, a bunch of cattle chewing the cud or grazing, ahead of us, a ranch house, and, some- times, to the rear, a pack of cowardly coyotes, at a safe distance, either following my caravan, or out on a for- age hunt. Often, as the trains swept by, the engineers would salute with a deafening blast of whistles, frightening the donkeys and entertaining the passengers. Some of the prairie towns which look large on the map have entirely disappeared. In one case, I found more dead citizens in the cemetery than live ones in the village. Frequently, as a means of diversion, I left the saddle to visit these white-chimney villages of the dead. Such might be con- sidered a grave sort of amusement, but really some of the gravestones contained interesting epitaphs. In one in- stance the following caught my eye: "God saw best from us to sever Darling Michael, whom we love; He has gone from us forever, To the happy realms above." Imagine the shock to my sobered senses on reading these lines cut on a white-washed wooden slab, close by: "Here lays Ezekiel Dolder, Who died from a jolt in the shoulder; He tried to shoot snipe While lighting his pipe, And now underneath his bones moulder." Just below the heartrending epitaph appeared in bold 235 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK letters the satisfactory statement "This monument is pade fer." On the lonely plains, miles from habitation, a single grave fenced in with barbed wire in a circular corral, I discovered a mate to the preceding epitaph, which il- lustrates the utter abandon with which the rugged, dash- ing "bronco buster" regards the perils of riding a buck- ing wild horse. "Here is buried my bronco, Ah Sam, Beside me I don't give a damn ! While bucking he killed me ; On this spot he spilled me, And now the devil's I am." Sometime before parting with my courier, unknown to him we pitched camp one dark night in a graveyard. Barley was an early riser, and, as we know, as super- stitious as he was gullible. He was the first out of the tent at dawn. Suddenly he rushed back, exclaiming: "De Resurrection has came, fellows, an' wese de first livin' on earth agin." And with terror in his eyes and voice, dragged Coonskin and me to see a strange sight indeed. There, some forty feet from the tent, stood a towering crucifix with a figure of the Saviour, life size, looking down upon us, while about us were tablets and mounds: the scene was so still and solemn no wonder that my awestricken courier thought the world had come to an end. On the 24th of June, after a hot and dusty trail across an arid waste, where only occasional patches of buffalo grass and cacti matted the earth in the place of the long prairie grass and flowers we were tramping in a few days before, my weary troop, jaded and hungry entered the lit- tle village of Overton. 236 CHAPTER XXXI. BY MAC A'RONY. And the ass turned out of the way, and went into the field; and Balaam smote the ass, to turn her into the way. Book of Numbers. Shortly after reaching Overton, I took Pod with Coon- skin and Don to pay our respects to Towserville, a large dog town so closely situated to Overton as to inspire a rivalry far more serious than that existing between Min- neapolis and St. Paul. Overtonians complained of re- peated raids made by prairie dogs of Towserville on their chickens and gardens. On the other hand, the Towser "villians" repudiated the calumny, then fled in confusion from the charge of shotguns and rifles. As our party approached with guns trained for a com- plimentary salute, I saw his honor, the Mayor, seated in his hallway. The roof of his mound towered above the other habitations, and was undoubtedly the City Hall. Copying after New York, each burrow in Towserville had a representative in the City Council. I'm sure we would have been welcomed cordially, had not Don wanted to be first to shake the Mayor's paw; his honor abruptly excused himself to avoid a scene, and his fellow townsdogs likewise, with the result that the above dogtown population rushed in and slammed the doors in our faces. The Professor was embarrassed. He had no visiting cards, so decided to leave at each door a sample box of cathartic pills ; and a careful distribution was made. 237 ON A DONKEY'S HURRICANE DECK Next morning as we passed Towserville, his dogcel- lency, the Mayor, his alderdogs and towndogs looked regretful of their slight to us, as each stood at his door or sat with his housekeeper, the owl, on the roof of his dwelling, nodding and waving at us. Others, however, were prostrate, either from remorse or Pod's mag- nanimity. Sometime about noon, we approached the shallow cur- rent of the Platte, where we were unpacked and fed. We donks were almost roasted from the sun's scorching rays. Close by was a deep well, but no bucket in which to draw water. So Coonskin hitched a syrup can to the rope and drew water for Pod and himself. Soon a drove of cattle, accompanied by two ranchmen and a boy, came down to the river to drink with us donks, just to show there was no hard feeling. The lad laid down to drink from the stream. "Here, boy, come and have a drink of cold water!" Pod called. "That ain't fit to drink." "Fitter'n that well water," answered the lad. Said Pod: "I'd like to know the reason." "Well," replied the lad, approaching, "I dropped a dead jackrabbit in the well a week ago." Somehow the men had drunk so much of that cool well-water they hadn't room for dinner; too cool water I guess aint' good for one when heated. After the dishes were washed, Pod took off everything but his socks and collar-button, and wrote his newspaper letter, while Coon- skin went prospecting. Pretty soon the latter returned with a sand turtle and, hitching it up in a rope harness, said he was going to keep it for a pet. He named it Bill. He said it would make a fine center-piece for the table; it would keep the Buffalo gnats and mosquitos and flies off the victuals,