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Hough, Emerson, 1857-1923

"The Way of a Man"

I do not know whether
we traveled two days, or three, or four, since all the days seemed night
to me, and all the nights were uniform in torture. Finally, we drove
down into a dusty plain, and so presently came to the old frontier fort.
Here, then, was civilization--the stage coach, the new telegraph wire,
men and women, weekly or daily touch with the world, that prying
curiosity regarding the affairs of others which we call news. To me it
seemed tawdry, sordid, worthless, after that which I had left. The noise
seemed insupportable, the food distasteful. I could tolerate no roof,
and in my own ragged robes slept on the ground within the old stockade.
I was still guarded as a prisoner; I was approached by none and had
conversation with none until evening of the day after my arrival. When I
ate, it was at no gentleman's table, but in the barracks. I resented
judgment, sentence and punishment, thus executed in one.
Evening gun had sounded, and the flag had been furled on my second day
at Laramie, when finally Colonel Meriwether sent for me to come to his
office quarters. He got swiftly enough to the matters on his mind.
"Mr. Cowles," said he, "it is time now that you and I had a talk.


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