Wolfville Days

erett's Re

f the Coyote, Wolfville's first newspaper; is as cultivated a gent that a-way as acquires his nose-paint at the Red Light's bar; an' comes of

ty likely about twenty-odd years younger than me, an' at that time I shows about fifty rings on my horns. As for eddication, he's shore a even break with D

bein' contingent entire on whereabouts them folks is camped. Thar's the Bloo Grass deestrict, the Pennyr'yal deestrict, an' the Purchase. The Bloo Grass folks is the 'ristocrats, while them low-flung trash from the Purchase is a heap plebeian. The Pennyr'yal outfit is kind o' hesitatin' 'round between a balk an' a break-down

its is important to the camp, we're testin' the beverage plenty free an' copious. No expert gent can give opinions worth a white chip concernin' nosepaint short o' six drinks, an' we wasn't out to make no errors in our findin's about that Valley Tan. So, as I relates, we're all mebby some

ull concernin' the transmigration of souls. I gives it my hearty beliefs. I can count a gen

" that a-way,' whisper

f a word. I'll prance

h it's shore doo t

which infests the East. This last reptile is vulgar-sluggish, a anamile of few if any virchoos; while the horned toad, so called, come right down to cases, ain't no toad nohow. It's a false brand, an' he don't belong with the toad herd at all. The horned toad is a lizard-a broad kind o' lizard; an' as for bein' sluggish, you let him have something on his mind speshul, an' he'll shore go careerin' about plumb swift. Moreover, he don't hop, your horned toad don't, like them Eastern toads; he stands up on his toes an' paces-h

say, at the same instant battin

ain't got savey enough

that a-way makin' mal

ld have made you proud

ustus arch himse'f for

as the babe jest born. But like all noble nachers, Augustus is sensitive, an' he regyards them bats in the nose as insults. As I says, you-all should have seen him! He'd poise himse'f on his to

asks Dan Boggs, who's got all wro

n' all inadvertent I backs the wagon onto Augustus. The hind wheel goes squar' over him an' flattens Augustus out complete. He dies with his eyes fixed on me, an' his looks says as

an' his voice is shakin'; 'a-losin' of a gifted ho

kes it, he used to be one of these yere Eastern toads on account of his gait. But I'm erroneous. Harry, who is little an' spry an' full of p'isen that a- way, used to be a t'rant'ler. Any

at Hoppin' Harry is beginnin' to bristle some, like he ain't pleased none wit

allows we better shift the subject some. If we-all talks about these yere insects an' reptiles a little longer, Huggins over thar-whose one weakness is he's too frank with an' put

t you; partic'lar where as at present you're about ten drinks ahead; still thar's nothin' gives me more pleasure than hea

my yooth, thar is nothin' but a nobility in Kaintucky; leastwise in the Bloo Grass country, whereof I'm a emanation. We bred hosses an' cattle, an' made whiskey an' played kyards, an' the black folks does the work. We descends into n

en, as that sport common to our neck of timber known as "the first eye out for a quart of whiskey" testifies to ample. Thar's my old dad! I can see him yet,' an' yere Enright closes his eyes some ecstatic. 'He was a shore man. He stood a hundred-foot without a knot or limb; could wrastle or run or j

it don't know if it's a birth, it don't know if it's a hoss race, it don't know if it's a drink; an' it don't care. The commoonity keeps itse'f framed up perpetyooal to enjoy any one of the five, an' tharfore at the said summons comes troopin', as I say. "'My grandfather is the first Sterett who invades Kaintucky, an' my notion is that he conies curvin' in with Harrod, Kenton, Boone an' Simon

ver-lookin' the Ohio, an' calls his place "The Hill." Up across one of the big stone chimleys is carved "John Sterett," that a-way; which I mentions the

have shifted the cut an' changed his name. Sech feats is frequen

is brought down an' fetched through a auger hole in the side of the house, so he can lay in bed if he feels like it, an' ring this yere tocsin of his while so minded. An' you can bet he shorely rings her

r is this y

for as the head of the House of Sterett, every one of the tribe is plumb scared of my grandfather an' mentio

e ever knows why my grandfather does ring it, for he's too onbendin' to tell of his own accord

ather's chil'en. He's a stern, quiet gent, an' all us young-ones is wont to step high an' softly whenever

ses, an' the old faun would have been a heap lonesome if thar's fewer than three hundred head a

dividyooals nor neighborhoods, but whole counties comes stampedin' to the rescoo. It's no use; the boat bogs right down in the sand; in less than an hour her smoke stack is onder water. All we ever gets from the wrack is the bell, the same now adornin' a Presbyter'an church an' summonin' fol

a moment before, an' as usual plants herse'f clost to

bar'ls of Willow Run perishin' before our very eyes, swallows up all else, an' minor details gets lost in the shuffle an' stays lost for all time. It's a t

mith's March," an' "Cease Awhile Clarion; Clarion Wild an' Shrill." I either wants something with a sob in it 'li

d Ohio, an' shet my eyes ag'in the brightness of the sky, an' figger on them setbacks we'd mete out to a Payaim if on

the mere idee; for myse'f, I say, I now concedes that I was heart an' soul with the South in them onhappy ruptures. I breathed an' lived with but one ambition, which is to tear this devoted country in two in the middle an' leave the fragments that a- way, in opposite fields. My father, stern, ca'm, c'llected, don't share the voylence of my sentiments. He took the middle ag'in the ends for his. The attitoode

lage; "Willyum," he'd say. "if anybody asks you what you be, an' speshul if any of th

since the flood, called "Juggin' for Cats." It's Jeff, too, once when he ups an' jines the church, an' is tharafter preyed on with the fact that the church owes two hundred dollars, and that it looks like nobody cares a two-bit piece about it except jest him, who hires

a cork or drains a bottle, I've seen the nobility of Kaintucky-the Bloo Grass Vere-de-Veres-ride up on a blood hoss, hitch the critter to the fence, an' throw away a fortune buckin' Jeff's merry-go-round with them w

. I ain't gifted like the Colonel, an' my English ain't a marker to his. The Colonel carries the language quiled up an' hangin' at the saddle horn of his intelligence, like a cow puncher does his lariat. An' when he's got ready to rope an' throw a fact or two, you should oughter see him take her down an' go to work. Horn or neck or any foot you says; it's all one to th

f good things, like openin' a five-hand jack-pot on a ace-full. He can even out-talk my former wife, the Colonel can, an' that esteemable lady packs the record as a conversationist in Laredo for five years before I leaves. She's admittedly the shorest shot with her mouth on that range. Tal

rescue of Colonel Sterett and given him his proper place in my estimatio

sses 'em. The first five days of the week, he limits himse'f to fifteen drinks per diem; Saturday he rides ei

an' begins to crook his elbow, keepin' no accounts an' permittin' no compunctions. This, if the old gent is feelin' fit an' likely, keeps up about six hours' at which epock, my grandfather is beginnin' to feel like his laigs is a burden an' walkin' a lost art. That's where the pop'lace gets action. The onlookers, when they notes how my ancestor's laigs that a-way is attemptin' to assoome the

onusual sagacious beast whic he calls his "Saturday hoss"-to linger about the streets, an' collab'rate with

ders to capture my grandfather as he comes romancin' along. An' them faithful servitors never fails. They s

to fetch reestoratifs. I'm too little to take a trick myse'f, an' I can remember how on them impressif occasions, I would stand an' l

little old quarter-mile track, starts for The Hill, takin' me an' a nigger jockey, an' a-leadin' of the said two-year-old racer along. Once we arrives at my grandfather's, my father leaves us all standin' in the yard and reepairs into the house. The next

s full name, the same bein' a heap ominous; "Willyum Greene Ste

ur track now, father, an' let that black boy ride him an' I'll gambl

e House of Sterett. But you reserves it for your forty-ninth year, an' when I'm in my seventy-ninth year, to perform your crownin' outrage. You've brought that thing to The Hill to beat my Golddust. Now let me tell you somethin', an' it'll be water on your wheel a whole lot, to give heed to that

d, thar's not another yeep out o' any of us. With my father in the lea

losin' chapters in the life of this grand old man. Thar's this to be observed: The Sterett fam'ly is eminent for two things: it gets everything it needs; an' it never gets it till it needs

gin layin' up a treasure above. I'm goin' on

ents, he shorely searches that holy book a whole lot. An' then he puts it up he'll be baptized. Also

uldn't be bluffed. My grandfather reaches out of bed an' he rings that bell I tells you-all of, an' proceeds to convene his niggers. He commands 'e

then with six yoke of steers, the trough is brought into camp.

ersonal charge of a faithful old nigger named Ben. When one of them stones is red hot, Ben takes two sticks for tongs an' drops it into the trough. Thar's a bile an' a buzz an' a geyser of steam, an' now an' then the rock explodes a lot an' sends the water spoutin' to the eaves. It's all plenty thrillin', you can bet! "My father, as I states, is pervadin' about, so clothed with dignity, bein' after my grandfather the next chicken on t

out comes a brace of niggers, packin' my grandfather in a blanket, with the preacher preevail. in over all as offishul floor-manager of the festiv'ties. That's how it e

your rooles an' tenets?" "'"Your place is provided," says the preacher, that a-way. "'"If it's as good a pl