Rensselaer Republican, Volume 17, Number 20, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 January 1885 — The Dude and His Pop. [ARTICLE]

The Dude and His Pop.

One day there appeared on the streets of a Texas town a dude of the dudiest type, and, of oonrse he was the observed of all observers. He was qniet in everything but his dress, and until about *4 o’clock in the afternoon he got along very well, and at that hour he went out for a walk, and as he passed a saloon on the opposite side of the street he was Baluted by a chorus of yells from a lot of cowboys in front. “Put a thimble over it," "Tie a blue ribbon to it,” “Do it up in pink cotton,” “Grease it and slip it into a knot hole,” “Give it to a tailor,” and such exclamations rang out, and the dude walked very slowly and took it all in. Finally Bolus Hankus, the terror, shouted: “Hold on, boys; gifj still a minit an’ watch the fur fly. Stick your peepers on to that tubular biler hat and see me shoot a hole clear through it.” Bolus pulled his gun, and the other boys stood back to enjoy the sport, while the dude walked slower than ever. Pop went the gun and the hat flew, but the dude, quicker than a flash, whirled around, and a long, pearl-han-dled revolver shone in the sunlight for an instant and then cracked. Bolus’ hat jumped six feet off his head, and before any of the boys oould think, five more hats jumped off, after five Little puffs of blue smoke rose from the other side, and then the crowd, with a yell, broke around the corner as if a cyclone had been after them. * The dnde smiled and scratched his chin, reflectively: “Well,” he said to himself, “clothes does make some diff in a man’s looks; an’ Pm a thinkin’ if the boys hed knowed I wuz Jim Beardsley they’d a let me had my little sport, and not get their hats spiled. Well, well, sich is life; I guess I’d better go over and let t’em irrigate theirselves on my bank account" —Cincinnati Merchant Traveler. A countryman in search of a headstone for. his mother’s grave pitched upon one the stonecutters had prepared for another person. “I like this one, * he said. “But,” said the other, “that belongs to another man, and has Mrs. Perry’s name cut upon it; it wouldn’t do for your mother." “Oh, yes it would,” said the countryman. “She couldn’t read. And, besides,” he continued, “Perry was always a favorite name of hers.” —Bouton Journal, “I’ll be even with yon,’* remarked one paraiieMine to the other.