Bowers Walcan Bellefonte, Pa., Oct. 18, 1895. BOIL IT DOWN. When you’ve got a thing to say, Say it! Den't take half a day. When your yarn’s got littie in it Crowd the whole thing in a minute. Life is short—a fleeting vapor— Don’t you ‘fill an eight-page paper With a tale which, at a pinch, - Could be cornered in an inch. Boil her down until she simmers ; Polish her until she glimmers. When yoit’ve got a thing to say, Say it 1 Pon’t take half a day. —Hot Springs Thomas Cat. ——— ‘CAMP CHARITY. “I frequent finds myse’f takin a no- tion ag’in a word,” said the old cattle- man as he lighted a cigar, “same as T do agin some people. There's the word ‘charity’ as shorely wearies me a’ heap. Not but what I believe in giv- in, and ae fast as I rune up with a hu-, man bein in a bole I most likely lays’ off a day an pulls him out. But I don’t like this here word ‘charity’ none whatever. It seems like it puts you on & hoss and leaves. the other man afoot. It sets you way up an the man who takes it way down yander. “What you alls calls ‘charity’ in| the east is nuthin but plain everyday | business on the range, and you sees it | round your camp as common as Cac- tug, an 80 you ain't applaudin or aboosin or speculatin on it none what- ever. “You see, son, it occurs numerous in the west that many a good man rolls outer his blanket in the morning to find his luck done stampeded in the night. This yere existence of ours is just the same as a cow pony. We throws on our saddles an draws the front cinch ‘tight and the rare one loose, aceordin to our notion: we swings on, sticks in our spurs an away we all goes- But this yere week or next, some time or other, we finds we've cinched the hull on to some high, half broke bronco of a situation, an it stays with it all we knows, an spite of curb, quirt, buckin straps and spurs we discovers ourselves bucked plumb out an oft, afoot an alone in the wilderness of some disaster. “Such a catasterfy shouldn’t be counted ag’in no one. The best rider as ever see spurs will frequent find his pony saying ‘adios’ most ridic’'lus an onexpected. I've struck grass head fust an mighty involuntary a whole lot myse’f an looks tofind it in my face plenty often yet before I ceases to whirl my rope. “This yere teaches me a lot, an you'll be plenty jestified in takin odds that as frequent as a squar man gits shot too hard to hold his gun an me gee it, I backs his play with mine. He don’t slip from his saddle none while I can hold him thar; go gamble on it. I never seed no more churches than calabooses, no more preachers than police, but I saveys when to he’p a pard withouten no teachin. “Speakin of preachers an police, .do you know I allers allows ‘they must -somehow belong to the same outfit; ‘cause wharever you crosses the trail of one you'll shorely find the hoof prints of the other. “They seems to come west together, they do. ‘Well, I s'pose they're workin the same round up, an it's all right an proper too. The preachers are ridin the ridges an mesas an the p'lice the valleys an dark sinful canyons of human life. But they're both a-brandin with the same runin iron for decency an law. “I've gone on yere a heap about doin of benevolences, an I recalls a lit- tle missionary play it comes.our way to. make down in Wolfville, A: T., some years back on the trail. The victim in this yere charitable cloud- burst was & woman. “Thar ain’t nuthin as will rouse up an consoome a western man as the spectacle of a female of his species a-' gittin the woret of the deal. He'll froth an paw round frightfal at the mere idee. “This yere episode I hereby relates was this.avay. It was just about the’ fourth drinktime—as you alls say, 8 a. | m.—an a band of us was standin an! stampin round the bar of the Red Light a:fixin of the hour in our own ‘minds, when up comes the stage from Tucson. Old Monte was a lookin ‘mighty dignified, an a-poppin his whip like the crack of a 45, whereby he’ was makin camp with his outfit on the dead gallop, an to us a-lookin on these yere signs was plenty plain he bad a squaw inside. “Old Monte «was mighty soft on a woman, an his. notion of gainin their love an confidence was to clamber on to his stage, tie-his reins to the brake, take his whip in.one paw an six shoot- er in t'other, bang away with each al- ternate, an eend sis six horses a-stam- peding down 112 .miles of mountain trail, -a-6wingin reund corners an a- peerin over precipices scandalous, an all enough for to make a graven image spraddle right out and baw with fear, I've know'd females as aged ten years jest goin over the divide once with Monte. The pore, -¢imid creatures would. regard him with reluctance an horror .gver after like he was some nightmare, and yet that .old sot, up to the d y ‘be disputes for place with some card sharp’s bullet ever in Tuc- son, an went a-shoutin home to heav- en, swung an rattled withi{he notion that all this .yere. I relates was the straight, plain trial to a woman's heart. “Well, the stage stops, an as soon as the door is open out capers as nice a little girl as ever pulled a dress 6a over her head. She was put up in black an looked some pale an tired, as she shorely has call to, a-ridin with such a locoed inebriate 40 miles as Old Monte, an the minute she's out she goes into the stage office. “That young famale,’ says Doe Peets—an you can bet your moceasins Doc Peets knowed his business every trip—‘is undoubted a heap elegant, but whatever she’s meditatin when she stack too many for me. Whatever do you think yourself, Enright?’ “