The Sunday Oregonian., July 13, 1913, SECTION SIX, Page 2, Image 66

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THE SUNDAY OREGOXIAN, PORTLAND, JULY 13, 1913.
N9I6-H0DEWSTEBN ADVENTURE5.
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'Published by peelaj aiTnBment wltS
the Outlook, of which Theodore Roosevelt
is the contributing editor. Copyright, 1913,
by the Outlook Company. All right re
served, including rights of translation.)
JOWE more than I can ever express
to the West, which of course1 means
to the men and women I met In the
"West. There were a few people of bad
type In my neighborhood that would
te true of every group -of men, even In
a theological seminary btn I could not
Pak with too great affection and re
spect of the great majority of my
friends, the hard-working men and
women who dwelt for a space of per
haps 160, miles along the Little Mis
souri. I was always as welcome at
their houses as they were at mine.
Everybody worked, everybody was will
Ing to help everybody else, and yet no
body asked any favors. The same thing
was true of the people whom I got to
know 60 miles east and 60 miles west
of my own range, and of the men I met
on the round-ups. They soon accepted
me as a friend and fellow-worker who
stood on an equal footing with them,
and I believe that most of them have
kept their feeling for me ever since.
No guests were ever more welcome at
the White House than these old friends
of the cattle ranches and the cow camps
the men with whom I had ridden the
long circle and eaten at the tailboard of
a chuck-wagon whenever they turned
up at Washington during my Presi
dency. I remember one of them who
appeared at Washington one day Just
before lunch, a huge, powerful man
who, when I knew him, had been dis
tinctly a fighting character. It hap
pened that on that day another old
friend, the British Ambassador, Mr.
Bryce, was among those coming to
lunch. Just before we went In I turned
to my cowpuncher friend and said to
him with great solemnity, "Remember, 1
Jim, that if you shot at the feet of the
British Ambassador to make him dance.
It would be likely to cause internation
al complications," to which Jim re
sponded with unaffected horror, "Why,
Colonel, I shouldn't think of It, I
shouldn't think of it!"
; Not only did the men and women
' whom I met in the cow country quite
'unconsciously help me, by the insight
; which working and living with them
enabled me to get Into the mind and
soul of the average American of the
right type, but they helped me in an
other way. I made up my mind that
they were men of just the kind whom
it would be well to have with me If
ever it became necessary to go to war.
When the Spanish War came, I gave
this thought practical realization.
Fortunately, Wister and Remington,
with pen and pencil, have made these
men live as long as our literature lives.
I have sometimes been asked if Wlster's
"Virginian" is not overdrawn; why, one
of the men I have mentioned In this
chapter was in all essentials the Vir
ginian In real life, not only In his force
but in his charm. Half of the men I
worked with or played with and half of
the men who Boldiered with me after
wards in my regiment might have
walked out of Wister's stories or Rem
ington's pictures.
There were bad characters in the
Western country at that time, of course,
and under the conditions of life they
were probably more dangerous than
they would have been elsewhere. 1
hardly ever had any difficulty, how
ever. I never went Into a saloon, and
In the little hotels I kept out of the bar
room unless, as sometimes happened,
the barroom was the only room on the
lower floor except the dining-room. 1
always endeavored - to keep out of a
quarrel until self-respect forbade my
making any further effort to avoid It,
and I very rarely had even the sem
blance of trouble.
Why They Took Bill,
Of course amusing Incidents occurred
now and then. Usually these took place
when I was hunting lost horses, for In
hunting lost horses I was ordinarily
alone, and occasionally had to travel
100 or 150 miles away from my own
countrry. On one such occasion I reached
a little cow town long after dark, sta
bled my horse in an empty outbuilding
and when I reached the hotel Was in
formed in response to my request for a
bed that I could have the last one left,
as there was only one other man In it.
The room to which I was shown con
tained two double beds; one contained
two men fast asleep, and the other only
one man, also asleep. This man proved
to bo a friend, one of the Bill Joneses
whom I have previously mentioned. 1
undressed according to the fashion of
the day and place, that Is, I put my
trousers, boots, chaps and gun down be
side the bed and turned In. A couple
of hours later I was awakened by the
door being thrown open and a lantern
flashed in my face, the light gleaming
r-n the muzzle of a cocked .45. Another
man said to the lantern-bearer, "It
ain't him"; the next moment my bed
fellow was covered with two guns, and
addressed, "Now, Bill, don't make any
fuss, but come along quiet." "I'm not
thinking of making a fuss," said Bill.
"That's right." was the answer; "we're
your friends; we don't want to hurt
you; we Just want you to come along,
you know why." And Bill pulled on his
trousers and boots and walked out with
them. Up to this time there had not
been a, sound from the other bed. Now
a match was scratched, a candle lit and
or.e of the men in the other bed looked
round the room.
At this point I committed the breach
it etiquette of asking questions. "I
wonder why they took Bill," I said.
There was no answer, and I repeated,
"I wonder why they took Bill." "Well."
said the man with the candle, dryly,
"I reckon they wanted him," and with
that he blew out the candle and con-
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vereation ceased. Iater t discovered
that Bill In a fit of playfulness had
held up the Northern Pacific train at a
near-by station by shooting at the feet
of the conductor to make him dance.
This was purely a joke on Bill's part,
but the Northern Pacific people pos
sessed a less robust sense, of humor,
and on their complaint the United
States Marshal was sent after Bill, on
the ground that by delaying the train
he had interfered with the mails.
. At Close Range.
The only time I ever had serious
trouble was t a.n even more primitive
little hotel than the 6ne in question.
It Was also on art occasion when I was
out after lost horses. Below the hotel
had merely a bar-room, a dining-room
and a lean-to kitchen; above was a loft
with 16 or 20 beds in It. It was late
In the evening when I reached the
place. I heard one or two shots in the
bar-room as I came up, and I disliked
going In. But there was nowhere else
to go, and it was a cold night. Inside
the room were several men, who, in-
eluding the bartender, were Wearing
the kind of smile worn by men .who
are making believe to like what "they
don't like. A shabby individual in a
broad hat with a cocked gun in each
hand was walking up and down the
floor talking with strident profanity.
He had evidently been shooting at the
clock, which had two or three holes
in Its face,
He was not a "bad man" of" tKe really
dnfigerous type, the true man-killer
type, but he was an objectionable crea
ture, ft would-be- bad man, a bully for
the moment was having things all his
own way. As soon as he saw me he
hailed me as "Four-eyes," In reference
to my spectacles, and said, . "Four-eyes
Is going to treat." I Joined in the
laugh and got behind the stove and sat
down, thinking to escape notice. He
followed me, however, and though 1
tried to pass it off as a Jest this merely
made him more offensive, and he stood
leaning over me, a gun in each hand,
using very foul language. He was
foolish to stand so near, and, more
over, his heels were close together, so
that his position was unstable. Ac
cordingly, in response to his reiterated
command that I should set np the
drinks, I said, "Well, if I've got to,
I've got to," and rose, looking past him.
As I rose, I struck quick and hard
with my right just to one side of the
point of his jaw, hitting with my left
as I straightened out, and then again
with my right. He fired the guns, but
I do not know whether this was merely
a convulsive action of his hands or
whether he was trying to shoot at
me. When he went down he struck the
oorner of the bar with his head. It
was not a case In which one could af
ford to take chances, and if he had
moved I was about to drop on his fibs
with my knees; but he was senseless. I
took away his guns, and the other peo
ple In the room, who were now loud in
their denunciation of him, hustled him
out and put him In a shed. I got din
ner as soon as possible, sitting in a
corner of the dining-room away from
the windows, and then went upstairs to
bed, where It was dark so that there
would be no chance of anyone shoot-"
Ing at me from the outside. However,
nothing happened. When ' my assail
ant came to, he went. down to the sta--tlon
and left on a freight.
"Being a Father" to People.
As I have said, most of the men of
my regiment were just such men as
those I knew in the ranch country in
deed, some of my ranch friends were in
the regiment Fred Herrig, the forest
ranger, for Instance, in whosecompany
I shot my biggest mountain ram. Af
ter the regiment was disbanded the
careers of certain of the men were
diversified by odd Incidents. Our rela
tions were of the friendliest, and, as
they explained, they f,elt "as if I was
a father" to them. The manifestations
of this feeling were sometimes less at
tractive than the phrase sounded, as It
was used chiefly by the few who were
behaving like very bad children indeed.
The great majority of the men when
the regiment disbanded took up the
business of their lives where they had
dropped it a few months previously; and
these men merely tried to help me or
help one another as the occasion arose;
no man ever had more cause to be
proud of his regiment than I had of
mine, both in war and in peace. But
there was a minority among them who
In certain ways were tinsulted for a
life of peaceful regularity, although
often enough they had been first-class
soldiers.
It was from these men that letters
came with a stereotyped opening that
always caused my heart to sink "Dear
Colonel: I write you because I am in
trouble." The trouble might take al
most any form. One correspondent con
tinued: "I did not take the horse, but
they say I did." Another complained
that his mother-in-law had put him In
Jail for bigamy. In the case of another
the incident was more markworthy. I
will call him Oritto. He wrote me a.
letter beginning: "Dear eolonel: I Write
yoti because I am in trouble. I have
shot a lady in the eye. But, Colonel, I
was not shooting at the lady. I was
shooting at my wife.'" which he- appar
ently regarded as a sufficient excuse as
between men of the world. I answered
that I drew the line at shooting at la
dies, and did not hear any more of the
incident for several years.
Comrades
Then, while I was President, a mem
ber of the regiment. Major Llewellyn,
who was Federal District Attorney un
der me in New Mexico, wrote me a let
ter filled, as his letters usually were,
with bits of interesting gossip about
the comrades. It ran in part as fol
lows: "Since I last wrote you Comrade
Ritchie has killed a man In Colorado. I
understand that the comrade was play-
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Ing a pdker game, and the man sat into
the game and used such language that
Comrade Ritchie had to shoot. Com
rade Webb has killed two men In Bea
ver, Arizona. Comrade Webb is in the
Forest Service, and the killing was in
the line of professional duty. I was
out at the penitentiary the other day
and saw comrade Gritto, who, you may
remember, was put there for shooting
his sister-in-law (this was the first in
formation I had had as- to the identity
of the lady who 'was shot In the eye).
Since he was in there Comrade Boyne
has run off to Old Mexico with his
(Qritto's) wife, and the people of Grant
County think he ought to be let out."
Evidently the sporting instincts of the
people of Grant- County had been
roused, and they felt that, as Comrade
Boyne had had si fair start, the other
comrade should be let out In order to
see what would happen.
The men of the regiment always en
thusiastically helped me when I was
running for office. On one occasion
Buck Taylor, of Texas, accompanied me
on a trip and made a speeoh for me.
The crowd took to his speech from the
beginning, and so did I, until the pero
ration, which ran as follows: "My fellow-citizens,
vote for my Colonel! vote
for my Colonel i and he will lead you.
as he led us, like sheep to the slaugh
ter!" This hardly seemed a tribute to
my military skill; but It delighted the
crowd, and as far as I could tell did me
nothing but good.
On another tour, when I was running
for Vice-President, a member of the
regiment who was along on the train
got into a discussion with a Populist
editor who Wad expressed an unfavor
able estimate of my character, and In
the course -of the discussion shot the
editor not fatally. We had to leave
him to be tried, and as he had no money
I left him $150 to hire counsel having
borrowed the money frofn Senator Wol
cott, of Colorado, who was also with
me. After election I received from my
friend a letter running: "Dear Colonel:
I find I will not have to use that J150
you lent me, as we have elected our
candidate for District Attorney. So I
have used it to settle a horse transac
tion in which I unfortunately became
involved." A few weeks later, how
ever. I received a heartbroken letter
setting forth the fact that the District
Attorney whom he evidently felt to be
a cold-blooded formalist had put him
in jail. Then the affair dropped out
of sight until two or three years later.
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when as President I visited a town In
another state, and -the leaders of the
delegation which received me included
both my correspondent and the editor,
now fast friends, and both of them ar
dent supporters of mine.
At one of the regimental reunions a
man, who had been an excellent sol
dier. In greeting me mentioned how
glad he was that the Judge had let him
out in time to get to the reunion. I
asked what was the matter, and he -replied
with some surprise: ''Why, Colo
nel, don't you know I had a difficulty
with a gentleman, and -er well, I
killed the gentleman. But yoii can see
that the Judge thought it was all right
or he wouldn't have let me go." Waiv
ing the latter point, 1 said: "How did it
happen? How did yOu do It? Mlsinter
preting my question as showing an in
terest only in the technique of the per
fofman-ce, the ex-puncher replied:
"With a .8 on a ,45 frame, Colonel." I
chuckled over the answer, and It be
came proverbial with some of my
rrietids, including Seth Bullock. When
I was shot at Milwaukee, Seth wired an
Inquiry to which I responded that it
was all right, that the weapon was
merely "a .S on a .45 frame." The
telegram In some way became publie
ana puzzled outsiders. By the way.
both the men of my regiment and the
friends 1 had made In the old days in
tne west were themselves & little puz
zled at the interest shown in my mak
Ing a speech after being shot. This was
what they expected, what they accept
er as tne fight thing for a man to do
Under th circumstances, a thing the
non-performance of which would have
been discreditable rather than the per
formance being creditable.
They would not have expected a man
to leave a battle, for instance.
of being wounded Iri suoh fashion; and
tney saw no reason Why he should
abandon a less important and less risky
outy.
Breaking- Even.
One 6 the best soldiers of my regl
ment was a huge rrtan whom I made
marshal of a Rocky Mountain state. He
had spent his hot and lusty youth on
the frontier" during its viking age, and
at that time had naturally taken part
in incidents which seemed aueer -to
men "accustomed to die decently of
zymotio diseases." I told him that an
effort would doubtless be mads to pre
vent hi confirmation by the Senate,
and therefore that I wanted to know all
the facts In his case. Had he played
faro7 He had; but it was when every
body played faro, and he had never
played a brace game Had he killed
anybody? Tes, but it was in Dodge
City on occasions When he was deputy
marshal or town marshal, at a time when
Dodge City, now the most peaceful of
communities, was the toughest town
on th oontinent, and erowded with
man-killing outlaws and road agents;
and he produced telegrams from judges
of high character testifying to the need
of the actions he had taken. Finally
I said: "Now. Ben, how did yon lose
that half of your ear?" To which, look
ing rather shy, he responded: "Well,
Colonel, It was bit off." "How did it
happen, Ben?" "Well, yoa see, I was
sent to arrest a gentleman, and him
and me mixed it up, and he bit off my
ear." "What did you do to the gentle
man, Ben?" And Ben, looking more
coy than ever, responded: "Well,
Colonel, we broke about even!" I fore-
bore to inquire what variety of mavhem
he had committed on the "gentleman."
After considerable struggle I got him
confirmed by tne senate, and ha made
one of the best marshals in the entire
service, exactly as he had already made
one of the best soldiers in the regiment;
and I never wish to see a better citi
zen, nor a man in whom I would more
Implicitly trust in every way.
When, in 1900, I was nominated for
Vice-President, I wag sent by th Na
tional Committee on a trip into the
states of the high plains and the Rocky
Mountains. These had all gone over
whelmingly for Mr. Bryan On the free
silver Issue four years. previously, and
it was thought that I, because of my
knowledge of and acquaintanceship
with the people, might accomplish
something towards bringing them back
Into line. It was an interesting trip,
and the monotony usually attendant
upon Such a campaign of political
speaking was diversified in vivid fash
Ion by occasional hostile audiences. One
or two of the meetings ended in riots.
One meeting was finally broken up by
a mob; everybody fought so that the
speaking had to stop. Soon after this
we reached another town where we
were told there might be trouble. Here
the local committee included an old and
valued friend, a "two-gun" man of re
pute, who was not In the least quar
relsome, but who always kept his word.
We marched round to the local opera
house, which was packed with a mass
of men, many of them rather tough
looking. My friend the two-gUn man
Sat immediately behind me, a gun on
eaoh hip, his arms folded, looking at
the audience; fixing his gaze with ih-
as a whisper. The audience listened to
me with rapt attention. At the end.
with a pride in my rhetorical powers
which proceeded from a misunderstand
ing of the situation, I remarked to the-
chairman: "I held that audience well;
there wasn't an Interruption." To which
the chairman replied: "Interruption?
Well, I guess not! Seth had sent round
word that If any son of a gun peeped
he'd kill him!"
Frontier Philosophy.
There was one bit of frontier phil
osophy which I shouldlike to see Im
itated in more advanced communities.
Certain crimes of revolting baseness
and cruelty were never forgiven. But
in the case of ordinary offenses, the
man who had served his term and who
then tried to make good was given a
fair chance; and, of course, this was
equally true of the women. Every
ono who has studied the subject at
all is only too well aware that the
world offsets the readiness with which
it condones a crime for which a man
escapes punishment, by its unforgiving
relentlessness to the often far less
guilty man who is punished and who
therefore has made his atonement. On
the frontier, if the man honestly tried
to behave himself, there was generally
a disposition to give him fair play and
a decent show. Several of the men I
knew and whom I particularly liked
came in this class. There was one
such man in my regiment, a man who
had served a term for robbery under
arms, and who had atoned for it by
many years of fine performance of
duty, I put him in a high official
position, and no man under me ren
dered better service to the state, nor
was there any man whom, as soldier,
as civil officer, as citizen and as friend,
I valued and. respected and now value
and respect more.
The Helping Hand.
Now 1 suppose some good people will
gather from this that I favor men who
commit crimes. I certainly do not
favor them. I have not a particle of
sympathy with the sentimentality a
I deem it, the mawkishness which
overflows with foolish pity for the
criminal and cares not at all for the
victim of the criminal. I am glad to
see wrong-doers punished. The pun
ishment is an absolute necessity from
the standpoint of society; and I put
the reformation of the criminal second
to the welfare of society. But I do
desire to see the man or woman who
has paid the penalty and who wishes
to reform given a helping hand surely
every one of us who knows his own
heart must know that he too may
stumble, and should be anxious to help
his brother or sister who has stum
bled. When the criminal has been
punished, if he then shows a sincere
desire to lead a decent and upright life.
he should be given the chance, he
should be helped and not hindered; and
if he makes good, he Bhould receive
that respect from others which so
often aids In creating self-respect
the most invaluable of all possessions.
(The next installment of Mr. Roose
velt's "Chapters of a, Possible Auto
biography" is entitled "Applied Ideal-
stant intentness on any section ef the i Ism." It will appear In The Oregonian
house from which there came so much I next Sunday.)
Coloradan Is Said to Be Best Violin-Maker
Tonly in America, but irt the world,
IlE best living violin maker not
is George W. Fisk, of Greeley. Colo.,
according to an unsolicited letter writ-
ten by Edouard Remenyi, the wOrld
renowned violinist and connoisseur, be
fore his death.
Fisk is 7 years old and was born lri
Bennington, Vt. Later he moved to
Hooslo Falls, where he became an ex
pert pattern maker. He enlisted in the
infantry band of the Second Vermont
Regiment at the outbreak of th Civil
War,
Mr. Fisk came from New Tork to
Colorado in 1870, with the Union Colo
nists, headed by Horace Greeley and
N. C. Meeker. He settled in Greeley,
where ho has lived almost continuously
since that time, and where for 30 years
he led a theater orchestra.
He oan read music today readily, but
cannot play as he used to; his right
arm, once injured, does not carry as
steady a down-bow as it did. But he
can still coax tones of rare sweetness
out of the violins of his own make, into
which ha works kindred qualities of
his music-loving soul.
Mr. Fisk has made as many as eight
violins in one year, but does not usu
ally turn out as many; for he takes
great care in the manufacture of each,
graduating them with wonderful preci
sion, where the variation of a one
thousandth of an Inch might mean the
unbalance of tone, and might render
the work of foregone weeks unfruitful.
Black Ink on Yellow. Paper Easiest to Read
THE French publication Le Courrie
de Livre reports on some interest
ing experiments' which have been made
regarding the most favorable color
combinations for reading at a distance.
It was found that the most legible
print was black upon yellow back
ground. The order of merit obtained
for different combinations is somewhat
surprising, and is as follows: (1)
Black on yellow; (2) green on white;
(3) red on white; (4) blue on white;
(5 white on blue; (6) black on white;
(7) yellow on black; (8) white on red:
(9) white on green; (10) white on
black; (11) red on yellow; (12) green
on red; (13) Ted on green.
It will be noticed, among other things
that the customary combination of
black on white come sixth in the list,
about half way down.
Cologne Bridge Will Have Elevator Service
A1
NOVEL scheme was recently ex
hibited at Cologne, in a competi
tion of plans for a new bridge.
It was felt desirable to construct a
high-level bridge that would allow un
interrupted, traffic both on land and
river. One of the plans entered was
for a high-level bridge having slopes
as steep as 1 in 12, which would be im
possible for trafTio under ordinary conditions.
The designer of this bridge, however.
plans to equip the approaches with
electrically driven chains, to which
motor cars and horse-drawn1 vehicles
may be attached for haulage up the
approaches, and "easage" down the ap-
proacbes. Little cars drawn by these
chains are also provided for pedes
trians. Pleasures of Camel-Riding:.
Washington (D. C.) Star.
On the way to Egypt, F. Doubledav
Page described, on the Adriatic, the
doubtful pleasures of camel-ridinir.
"You know the game of cup and ball?"
he said. "You have a ball and a cup,
and you toss the ball in the air and
try to catch it in the cup. the toss
and try to catch it again, and so on.
Well, when you ride a camel, the beast
plays cup and ball with you, missing
you nearly every time.".
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