No more names were placed in nomination, and shortly afterward the convention had declared its preference for Ouray as its candidate. He was called upon at his room by a committee and serenaded at the Jack-Rabbit House by a large band with torchlight procession. On being called out, Ouray made a very short speech, as follows: "Warriors and Fellow-Citizens of Indian Descent: I thank you for the honor you have conferred upon me to-day, and promise, if elected, to do all that I have agreed to do, besides what I may hereafter agree to do. I hope you will excuse me from making a long speech as I am very much worn out with my labors in securing this unexpected nomination. I also have an engagement to speak before the Young Men's Christian Association to-morrow, and also to address the Pocahontas Lodge of Good Templars the day following. "I am very much overcome with surprise, this nomination having come entirely unsought, and compelled thus to receive a nomination forced upon me, together with the mental strain and constant worry necessary on my part to bring about this gratifying result, you will not be surprised that I thus abruptly close my remarks and bid you good-night." This speech was greeted with round after round of applause, after which Douglas was called for by his friends. He did not meet with any great degree of success, for when he undertook to inhale a full breath and start his speech the friends of the regular nominee would present him with some antique eggs of the vintage of '49, and Douglas had to adjourn and rinse his mouth out with government whiskey. This occasioned delay and annoyance. The delegates tripped the light fantastic till toward morning and then retired. In the afternoon they all arose with a light, maroon taste in their mouths, told the gentlemanly proprietor of the Jack-Rabbit House to charge their respective bills to the government, mounted their horses, and the most harmonious convention known to the world had become a matter of history. THE CLUB-FOOTED LOVER OF PIUTE PASS. A TALE OF LOVE AND COLD PIZEN. CHAPTER THE FIRST. |Many years ago, when Wyoming was new and infested with the bear, the bunko-steerer, the buffalo and the bold, bad man, a little circumstance occurred there which is worthy of notice; and as it has never appeared in the newspapers, I give it as near as my memory will serve me in the narrative. When Wyoming was a wilderness, and before the civilizing influence of the legislature and Pattee's lottery had toned down the rough outlines of the young commonwealth, there lived over on Horse Creek a ranchman whom we will call Henry Ward Beecher, as a kind of _nom de corral_ as it were. Henry Ward Beecher was a bachelor, and lived by himself. He did not know the loving influences and gentle yearnfulness of woman's society. His life was a howling wilderness, a wide waste of loneliness and wretchedness, because he was unmated.