The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, February 9, 1902, Page 11

THE SUNDAY CALL. 11 DeaFf Smith’s Duel. ht, 1902, by Robert Howard Rus- sell. o'casion when Texas ates abqut that Deaf observed tHe is one of the w been dealin’ " he »ds with es of how when HIS vere old com- ville. the conele me Smith County. he b Deaf five lucky top knot of them od endows that ches with five ote Canyon,” says aige of Deaf Smith, that the my fire an’ reach out an’ on the 8! ne. » Deaf Smith pickin' up the a ‘it brings wont to teil of them tempestuous one Star independ- dom’nation that n we-all Texans settles down to ct and kyarve out the destinles of h we conquers from San- > the Mexicans we pitches on capital an’ old Sam Hous- t. An’ T'll say right on, by all roomer an’ tra- htly llkely the most presiden- nt that ever keeps a republic whatever is he goin’ to do he’s as full of surprises as t in Red Dog. “‘About the first dash outen the box old Houston gets Lone r leadin’ citizens whose two = , is Colonel Morton and on himse'f on the hocks of ke I says, grows as a prairie dog. Shore! the drawback is that his no- t of deme " himse’f as sech is to spread his tall feathers an’ strut. Sam gets that puffed up, an’ his dignity is that egreegious, he feels crowded if a gent tries to walk on the same street with him. “Colonel Morton an’ Jedge Webb them- se’fs wades through that carnage from soda to hock freein’ Texas, an’ they sort Old Houston, th a notion that he’s doo public uproar any o'casion don’t encourage these two pa- only listens now an’ then to an’ as for Jedge Webb, let that jurist talk at all. for these yere followin® reasons to orts puts it to him p'lite, but t he’s onjust to Jedge Webb. Morton to talk some, | make a splinter of dif- Colonel Morton says. He ny side of any subject an ediot enough to pay the least ference talk ) one’s attent m remarks. But this sit- yooation is changed when you-all gets to Judge Webb. He's a disaster. Jedg: Webb never opens his mouth with sub- tractin’ from the sum tital of hooman knowledg vulges no secrets when that these explanations of Old n's is distasteful to Colonel Mor- an’ Jedge Webb. ‘An’ if Old Houston,’ observes Colonel Morton, who's a knife fighter an’ has sliced divers foes from time to time; ‘an’ mse’t into trouble with'| 'CLAUDIUS" PERSECUTIONS THAT MADE VALENTINE THE SAINT OF LOVE » partic’'pates in, an’ bein’ | 0ld | Old Houston when some | “READY”! remarks concernin’ me, I'll wind up ‘by commentin’ on his conduct with a bowie.’ s I intimates, Old Houston is that pride-blown that you-all couldn’t stay in the same ten-acre lot where he is. An’ he's worried to a standstill fof a openin’ to onload on the Texas public a speciment of his dignity. At last, seein’ the chances comin’ some siow, he nacherally ups an’ constructs the'opportunity himse’f. “*0ld Houston’s home camp that a-way is at a hamlet named Washin’ton, down on the Brazos. It's thar he squanders the heft of his leesure when not back of the AT THE WORD THE RIFLES game as Presidept over to Austin. Thar's a clause in. the constitootion which. while pitchin’ onto Austin as the pub- lic’s home-ranche or capitol, permits the President in event of perils onforseen, or invasions or sech, to round up the arch- ives an’ move the capitol camp a whole lot. Old Houston, eager to be great, seizes onto this yere tenet as presentin’ the chance. “‘T'll jest sort o’ order the capitol to come dowy yere where I live at, on the Brazos,” says Old Houston, ‘an’ tharby call the waverin’ attention of the Lone Star FALL TO A HOR'ZONTaL AS STIFF AN’ public to who I be.’ “‘As a argyment leadin’ up to this atrocity Old Houston allows that Austin is menaced by Comanches. Shore, it ain't menaced none; Austin would esteem the cleanin’ out of that entire Comanche tribe as the labors of a holiday. But it fills into Old Houston’s hand to make this bluff as a excuse. An’ with that he issues the order to bring the whole gov'ment lay-out from box to check-rack jown to ‘Washin’ton on the Brazos. “No, as I tells you all before, Austin ain’t in no more perils from Comanches STEADY AS A ROCK, than she is from grizzly b'ars. Troo, these yere rannikaboo savages does show up In paint an’ feathers over across the Colorado once or twice; but beyond a whoop or two an’ a little permiscus shootin’ into town, which nobody minds, them vis’'tations don’t come. To give you- all gents a idee how little important these Comanches is to my Texas forefathers, I hears my old gent tell of Bill Spence, who keeps a store in Austin. Bill's addin® up Virge Horne's accounts at the time in his books. ‘One pa'r of yaller top, copper toe boots for Virge, joonior, three dol- | For twenty-four hours the God of Love holds court and the ardent swain may declare himself in words true and plain unto the lady of his 1902 choice. RIDAY, the day of {ll omen, takes cn, this year, a cheerful aspect. High in the courts of the unseen world sits Cupld, the God of Leve. It is the day of St. Valentine, his memory day, when tokens are sent in honor of the dead saint. It is not so very many years since the | ardent swain waited for and depended rs that these yere services entitles | upon St. Valentine’s day to help him through the ordeal which he had in mind, and through which he knew he must pass ere he could attain the object of his ado- ration. The crop of engagements directly fol- lowing St. Valentine’s day was enormous, ‘and many Easter weddings were the di- rect resuit. In other cases the engage- ment found culmination a year from Eas- | ter, and for fifteen months, according to old Dutch custom, the two devoted them- selves to proving that they were worthy of each other. In these latter days St. Valentiné is viewed a little more flippantly. He is the god of an evening’s fun; the excuse for a cotillon, with Cupld fof favors; or the saint who provides a theme for little gay- colored bits of paper that are passed around from child to child without more than a bit of child’s play for meaning. But in the large shops there repose great silken pillows with a word about Valen- tine, lettered below a pleture of Cupids; and at the confectioners’ there are big and sundry cakes denoting the coming day. The silken tokens and the cakes, if Old Houston ain’t more gyarded in his with their expensive accouterments, still carry Wi\h/ them a suggestiveness of deeper meaning; and in the jewelers’ shops there are tokens that are undeni- @able—gold hearts, interlocked hands ‘clasped over that ever important member, the heart; and little love words in chasing cunningly arranged around the inevitable hands and hearts. 3 ‘Why, when hands and hearts are com- bined, are heads omitted? Ah, that's dif- ferent and is quite apother story. Rival of Santa Claus, A saint who can so impress himself upon the whole world as St. Valentine has done must have been a remarkable personage. To-day there is probably no one in the wide earth who has not heard of St. Valentine unless that person be deaf and stupld and not of the world. The name lives and travels on and becomes known to each generation of childhood almost as early as Santa Claus; the baby of four knows what a valentine is and the man of ninety has not forgotten. The man who so imprinted himself upon the affectionate and eternal remembrance of the world died over two thousand years ago. He lived in the reign of the Emperor Claudius and was one of the principal personages of ancient Rome, or Rome in those days when it was between great age and medium modernity. Valentine was a priest. He officiated in the temple and he had a great foliowing. Inthose days the Emperors were not al- ‘ways good men. The halo of the throne was no guide to better ways and the man who sat in the high places peered into the darkness of the baser world and se- lected from it his enjoyments. His ar- rows of pleasure were pointed recklessly and often hit his own subjects. They submitted, but hatred grew up in their hearts. In the midst of this unhappy state of affairs, for Claudius was an unusually bad man, Priest Valentine walked serene. The people from city’s gate to city’s gate knew him; and none knew him but to love him. His purity and his unselfishness made him a saint on earth’ and his con- tinued loveliness maintained him in that holy spot. A Cruel Decree. Just how Valentine came to be regarded as the Saint of Love is not accurately known. People who have fallen in love are notoriously forgetful; and those who profited by his benefactions forget to leave a strict account of the circum- stances leading up to the case. One of the tales—a very well authenticated one— is this: One day in a fit of jealous passion the Emperor, whose latest lady love had fled from him, gave forth a royal decree that for one whole year there should be no marriages in Rome. The royal edict ‘was proclaimed throughout the city and told from the temples. You who are going to be married this year can imagine the consternation this created. Plans were lald, courts were mapped out, the great stone jugs for housekeeping had been made and baked and glazed, and were ready. And now there could be no marriage! But, though the sorrow and indignation of the people were great, they could say no word. The Emperor's word was law, and to dispute it would have been like putting one's body in the arena or offering up one's tongue for the tearing out. St. Valentine heard the decree and was very sad. He knew so many worthy drawers of water, so many excellent young hewers of stone, so many ambi- tious stucco makers and so many smart young mixers of pigments, all of whom were looking forward to an early mar- rlage; in their homes, patiently walting, were the young women, and to them the postponement meant still more, for then, as now, man's love was of man’s life a thing apart, but 'twas woman's whole ex- istence. St. Valentine saw them grieving and grieved with them. Defled the Emperor. It was just at this time that it occurred to the saint to remonstrate with the Em- peror, and this he did quietly, but with fervor. His plea was without avail. Then Valentine did the rational thing. He dis- obeyed the Emperor's commands and se- cretly performed the ceremony for all those who had planned marriage. Of course, an act of this kind spread throughout the kingdom, and, if history were fully written, it would doubtless state that Valentine stood at the altar all day and that his vestments were burnt with the ashes and streaked with the fluids in his haste to get through the walt- ing crowds. ‘When the Emperor learned of this he was exceeding wroth and caused Valen- tine to be thrown into prison, where he mysteriously disappeared; it was sup- pesed by the ax. ‘When the people learned that he was gone they grieved greatly, and, on an- niversary of his death, they gathered quietly and secretly together and gave each other little tokens of love; many were united in marriage. Another tale has it that good Father Valentine was partial to all those in trouble; and, as mostly earthly troubles tribute to Cupid, through whose following arise from loving and being in love— was created the greatest saint outside lars; one red cal-co dress for Misses Virge, two dollars,” goes on Bill. At this epock Bill hears a yowl; an’ glancin’ out of the winder where he sits he counts a couple of hundred Infuns who's proselyt- in’ about over on t'other side of the river. Bill don’t get up none. He jest looks an- noyed, on account of that yellin’ puttin’ him out in his bookkeepin’. As a bullet from them savages domes singin’ in the r’ar door an’ buries itse’f in a sugar- cured ham, Bill even gets incensed. ‘Hir- am,’ Bill calls to his twelve-year-old son, who’s down cellar drawin’ a gallon of redeye for a customer; ‘Hiram, you-all take pap’s rifle, raise the hind sight for thréee hundred yards, an’ reprove them hostiles. Aim low, Hiram, an’ it you fetches one pap'll give you a seegyar an’ let you smoke it yourse’.’ Bill goes back to Virge Horne’s account, an’ Hiram aft- er slammin’ away with Bill's old Haw- kins once or twice comes in an’ gets his seegyar; the Comanches, meanwhile, pull- in’ their freight a heap. “‘No; Old Houston does wrong when he fiings forth this yere ukase about movin’ the capitol. Austin, even if a gent does have to dodge a arrer or duck a bullet as he prosecootes his dally tasks, is as safe as a camp-meetin’. When Old Houston makes the order, one of his Brazos pards reemonstrates with him. “Which Austin will simply go into the air 2ll spraddled out,” says this pard. “ ‘I Austin sails up in the air an’ stays thar, says Old Houston, ‘still you can gamble that this yere order goes.’ “‘All the same,’ says another, ‘your action reminds me of the story that Elder Peters tells of how long ago a Mexican named Mohammed issues a cold com- mand for the mountain to break up camp an’ come to him. But the mountain calls his bluff; that eminence stands pat. It don’t move, an’ that Mohammed Greaser, which the Elder allooded to, has to go to the mountain.’ “‘My name’s Sam Houston, an’ it ain’t Mohammed none,. retorts Old Houston. ‘Moreover, the difference p'inted to fs further augmented by the fact that Mo- hammed don’t have no written constitoo- tion, an’ I do. This yere capitol is’comin’ over onto the Brazos to see me as I or- dains, or, in deefault tharof, I'll shore enter upon some festiv'ties that’ll be known in Lone Star annals as the last dayd of Austin.” “ ‘Nacherally, when Austin gets notice of old Houston's plan to re-locate the cap- ital for the summer, that meetropolis jest r'ars back on its hocks an’ screams. The faro-bank folks an’ the tavern folks Is speshul malignant, an’ it ain't no time before they-all convenes a meetin’ at the State House to express their heated views on old Houston. Colonel Morton an’ Jedge Webb does the oratory. An’ you-all hears me! that assembly is shore sultry. Which the epithets they applies to old Houston would sink a boat. “ “They won't move. They resolves to go to war first; an’ a small army is or- ganized with Colonel Morton in command to gyard the State House an’ the State books that a-way, an’ keep old Houston from romancin’ over an’ packin’ ‘em off a lot. “ ‘Colonel Morton iIs talkin’ an’ Jedge Webb is presidin’ over this yere convoca- tion—which said meetin’ is that large an” enthoosiastic it plumb chokes up the hall an’ overflows into the street—when all of a sudden a party comes swingin’ through the open winder from tne top of a scrubby oak that grows alongside of the buildin,’ and drops light as a mountain lion onto the platform with Colonel Morton an' Jedge Webb. Nacherally at this yere in- terruption affairs comes to a halt, an’ them local Austin sports turns in to con- sider an’ count up the invader. «Jhis . gent who swoops, hawklike, through the winder, is dark, big, bony an’ tall, his ha'r is lank an’ long as the mane of a hoss; his eyes' is big an’ deep an’ black; while his face. tanned like a In- jun’s, Seems hard as iron. He's dressed in leather from foretop to fetlock, is shod 4n a pa'r of Comanche moccasins an’ be- sides a ’leven-inch bowle knife in his belt, packs gs good a rifle as ever shows up in Austin, This yere weepon—a big elght- squar’, with a forty-two inch barl, she 1s—will weigh twenty pounds, an’ yet this stranger handles it like switch. “As this darksome seemin’ gent lands in among Colonel Morton an’ Jedge ‘Webb, he stands thar without sayin’ & word. Jedge Webb, on his part, {s plumb amazed, while Colonel Morton glowers. “ “Whatever does you-all regyard as & fa’r market price for your skelp? says Colonel Morton to the black interloper, at the same time loosenin’ his knife. “The black stranger makes no reply; his hand flashes to his bowle, while his face still wears its fron look.” Jedge ‘Webb, some hurried, pushes In between Colonel Morton an’ the black stranger. Jedge Webb is more for peace, an’ don't believe in beginnin’ all negotiations with blood, which is rather the Colonel Morton notion of a y'int debate. Jedgs Webb dlc- tates a passel of p'lite queries to this yers black stranger. Tharupon, the black stranger bows p'lite an’ formal a whole lot, an’ goiln’ over to the table writes down In good “English, ‘Tm deef an’ dumb.” Next, he searches outen’ his war- bags a letter. It's from Old Houston over on the Brazos. Old Houston allows that onless Austin comes trailin’ into his pres- ence with them records within three days, he’ll ride over a whole lot an’ round ‘em up himse’f. Old Houston declar's that Austin, by virtue of them Comanches, is as onsafe as a poker game on the Missis- sippl, an’ that he don’t alm to face no sech dangers while performin’ his sacred dooties as President of the Texas Com-~ monwealth. “-‘After the black stranger flings the letter on the table, he’s organizin’ to go out through the winder ag’in. But Col- onel Morton sort o’ detains him. Colonel Morton writes on the paper that now the black stranger is through his dooties as a postman, he will, if he's a dead game sport, stay over a day, an’ him an’ Col- onel Morton can entertain themse'fs by pullin’ off a private war of their own. The idee strikes the black stranger as plenty good an’ while his face still wears its ca’m, hard iron look, Ite writes onder Col- onel Morton’s Bluff, ‘Rifles; no'th bank of the Colorado; sundown this evenin’.” The next moment he's, leaped from the plat- form to the winder, an’ from thar to the ground an’ is gone. “¢“But, Colonel Morton,” remon~ strates Jedge Webb, who's some scan- @lized at the colonel hookin’ up for blood with this yere black stranger, “you-all shorely don’t aim to fight-this party? He's deef an’ dumb, which is next door to bein" locoed outright. Moreover, a sport of your standin’ can’t afford to go ramblin’ about an’ lockin’ horns with every on- known miscreant who comes buttin’ In with a missif from President Houston, an” goes stampedin’ through a winder by way of exit.” ¢ “Onknown!” retorts Colonel Morton, “That letter-packin’ agent is as well known as the Rio Grande. That's Deaf Smith, Old Houston's bosom friend; which a gamer name never answers to a roll- call!” “ ‘That settles it; while no gent except Colonel Morton recognizes this yere cel’- brated war-eagle, the name of ‘Deaf Smith’ puts a end to talk. 3 «¢«“Colonel Morton,” observes Jedge ‘Webb, some horrified when he learhs the {dentity of the black stranger, “this yere Deaf Smith is a shore shot. They says he can empty a Comanche saddle foum times in five at three hundred yards.™ “‘That may be as it may,” returns Col- onel Morton. “If I downs him, so much the more credit; if he gets me, at the worst, I dle by a famous hand.” “ “The sun Is restin’ on the sky-line over the West. All Austin has done crossed the Colorado an’ lined up to witness this yere doocel. Deaf Smith comes ridin® in from some’ers to the no'th, slides outem the saddle, pats his hoss on the neck an' leaves him organized an’ ready fifty yards to one side. Then Deaf Smith steps to the center, an’ touches his hat, mil'tary fashion to Colomel Morton an’ Jedge ‘Webb. “ ‘These yere cavaliers is to shoot it out at one hundred yards. As they takes their places, Colonel Morton says: “ ‘Jedge Webb, if this Deaf Smith gets me, as most like he will, send my watch to my mother in Looeyville. ““Then they fronts each other; one in it's & willow _brown leather, the other in cloth as good with ministrations. His advice was good and so, seeing the happy culmination of love, others sought him, and so his pop- ularity grew. Finally, in jealousy the Emperor beheaded him. He Died for Love. ‘Out of all the legends of those days this fact stands clear: Valentine was the friend of those in love, and he dled for them. Claudius in jealousy caused him to be put out of the way. He perished for love without love’s sweets. To this day a little touch of sadness clings around St. Valentine's day. There is sentiment and In sentiment there must be a trace of sorrow or it is not senti- ment. The bitter and the sweet, the sweet predominating, make up agreeable sentiment, the kind the devétee of St Valentine loves to hug to his heart. ‘While the actual day of St. Valentine has passed away there is no doubt that the actual meaning is still here. The token of the hearts, presented on the Day of Hearts, is undeniable. It is un- derstood. In childhood there is the merry little gift, often anonymous, and the laugh— for only children dare to laugh at love. But in the older world it has a deeper meaning® as Is proven by the provision made for the day in expensive trifles and great costly tokens. And so the man who dled for love is remembered, even within the gates of the twentieth cen- tury, and the people who canonized him, thus making him a saint, have their fol- lowers in the people of to-day. And.each valentine that is purchased is a direct love of the past, the present or future< the annals of sacred history. he found his time and his heart filled AUGUSTA PRESCOTT. as gold can buy. No one thinks of any difference between 'em, however, in a day when courage is the one, lone test of aristocracy. That fight, as Texas views it, 1s even an’ equal i its ground plan; in the nobility of nerve, thar’s none to stand higher than Colonel Morton an’ Deaf Smith. ¢ “Ready!” At the word the rifles fall to a hor’zontal as stiff an’ steady as a rock. ‘“‘One—two—three—fire!” an’ Jedge Webb drops his handkerchief. Thar is a crack like one gun; Deaf Smith’s hat half turns on his head as the bullet cuts it. while Colonel Morton stands a moment an’ then without a sound, falls dead on his face. The lead from Dead Smith's big rifle drills him through the heart. Also, as it first perforates that gold re- peater, an’ as the blood sort o’ floods an’ clogs the works, the Austin folks decides, final, It's no use to send it on to Looey- ville; but retains it that a-way as a keep- sake of Colonel Morton. “ “With the bark of the guns an’ while the white smoke’s still hangin’ to mark the spot where he stands, Deaf Smith's hoss runs to him like a dog. The next in- stant Deaf Smith is In the saddle an” headed away like he’s on the wings of the wind, for Old Houston an’ his far- away camp on the Brazos. It's jest as well. Colonel Morton’s plenty pop’lar with the Austin folks an' mebby some sharp, in the first hysteria of a great loss, overlooks what's doo to homor, an’ by way of vengeance, up an’ plugs this yere Deat Smith. “It's here Texas pauses likg his tale has reached its end. We-all waits a mo- ment to make shore he's finished. Then Dan Boggs, as usual, let's fly a question: “‘But how about them books an’' pa- pers? says Dan. “ ‘Oh, nothin’ pgrtic’lar,” returns Texas. ‘It turns out like Dld Houston prophesies. Three days later, vain an' sopercilious, he rides in single-handed, corrals tHem archives, an’ packs 'em haugitily off to ‘he Brazos a whole lot.” ™