Last winter in the United States : $b being table talk collected during a tour through the late Southern Confederation, the Far West, the Rocky Mountains, &c.Zincke, F. Barham (Foster Barham)
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Last winter in the United States : $b being table talk collected during a tour through the late Southern Confederation, the Far West, the Rocky Mountains, &c.
Zincke, F. Barham (Foster Barham)
United States -- Description and travel; United States -- Social life and customs -- 1865-1918
was a kind of natural breastwork of rock, and they could not approach
us without being exposed to our fire: they then gave up the game, and
drew off. These sixteen-shooters cost in California forty dollars; but
mine has so long been my companion day and night, and has so often
saved my life, that I would not take any money for it.’ As he said this
he turned it round, to see if there was any speck of dirt or rust upon
it, handling it gently as if he loved it.
[Sidenote: _Manners on the Plains._]
Perfect ease and equality, without any obtrusiveness or vulgar
assumption, appeared to me to be the true characteristics of the
manners of the plains. I spent a day and night at a solitary house
where the proprietor combined the two employments of cattle-breeding
and inn-keeping. I happened to be at the time the only guest. The
accommodation was not bad. It consisted of a large room, used for
smoking and for the bar; of a better furnished room for meals; and of
a drawing-room, properly belonging to the mistress of the house, but
into which favoured guests were invited. I here found several files
of local and American papers, and among them the ‘London Illustrated
News.’ The herdsmen of the proprietor took their meals with the guests.
Before sitting down they always washed their hands and faces, and
combed their hair. There was nothing at all disagreeable in their
conversation or manners. They spoke good English, as all Americans
do, and were unconstrained, as all Americans are. I had noticed on
the previous evening that they had remarkably good appetites, and at
breakfast, the next morning, I ‘made a note’ of what it took to satisfy
the broadest-shouldered and hungriest-looking of the party. First, he
called for beefsteak: the lad in waiting brought him about a pound,
with a little dish of fried potatoes. This he soon disposed of. He then
called for sausages. His next plate was ham and eggs. This was followed
by a dish of slap-jacks, a kind of pancake eaten with butter and syrup.
He finished with a dish of dried apples stewed. This was at half-past
six in the morning. At the same hour in the evening, he would have much
the same kind of supper, and at noon much the same kind of dinner. But
these men live out of doors, and chiefly in the saddle, galloping over
a plain four thousand feet above the level of the sea, with a very
bracing and invigorating climate. The lady of the house had been well
brought up in New England, and her manners were pleasing. She had no
help, and did all the cooking herself. They had an only child, then
just five years old, but whom—for children are very forward here—one
might have taken for seven. His chief amusement, while I was here, was
catching the pigs and dogs with an Indian lasso made of buckskin.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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