"If I was called on to lay out a system to guide a tenderfoot who is considerin' on makin' Arizona his home-camp, I'd advise him to make his deboo in that territory in a sperit of ca'm an' silent se'f- reliance. Sech a gent might reside in Wolfville, say three months. He might meet her citizens, buck her faro-banks, drink her nose- paint, shake a hilarious hoof in her hurdy gurdies, ask for his letters, or change in whatever sums seems meet to him at the New York Store for shirts. Also, he might come buttin' along into the O. K. Restauraw three times a day with the balance of the band, an' Missis Rucker would shorely turn her grub-game for him, for the limit if he so pleased. But still, most likely every gent in camp would maintain doorin' his novitiate a decent distance with this yere stranger; they wouldn't onbuckle an' be drunk with him free an' social like, an' with the bridle off, like pards who has crossed the plains together an' seen extremes. All this, with a chill onto it, a tenderfoot would find himse'f ag'inst for the first few months in Wolfville. "An' yet, my steer to him would be not to get discouraged. The camp's sizin' him up; that's all. If he perseveres, ca'm an' c'llected like I states, along the trail of his destiny, he'll shore come winner on the deal. At the end of three months, or mebby in onusual cases four months, jest as this yere maverick is goin' into the dance hall, or mebby the Red Light, some gent will chunk him one in the back with his shet fist an' say, 'How be you? You double- dealin', cattle-stealin', foogitive son of a murdererin' hoss-thief, how be you?' "Now, right thar is whar this yere shorthorn wants to maintain his presence of mind. He don't want to go makin' no vain plays for his six-shooter, or indulge in no sour ranikaboo retorts. That gent likes him. With Wolfville social conditions, this yere greetin' is what you sports who comes from the far No'th calls 'the beginnin' of the thaw. The ice is breakin' up; an' if our candidate sets in his saddle steady an' with wisdom at this back-thumpin', name-callin' epock, an' don't take to millin' 'round for trouble, in two minutes him an' that gregar'ous gent who's accosted him is drinkin' an' fraternizin' together like two stage hold-ups in a strange camp. The West ain't ornery; she's simply reserved a whole lot.