A poor American in Ireland and Scotland

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Chapter Page

I— Billy and 1 5

II— Ho for California 25

Chapter I. Billy And I

Stranger, will you please permit me to give you an introduction to a very particular friend of mine — Little Billy?

Little Billy and I had been on the bum together a lo'>jr while, and had prospected for gold and other things in Utah, Nevada, Mexico, Arizona and several other states and territories, but somehow we never struck it rich. We had lots of adventures, though, some of which were pretty lively and interesting, but I cannot stop to relate them here, for this book Is written for another purpose.

One adventure we had, however, I will relate, for as it proved mighty interesting to us it may also prove so to others. It concerned two young girls, and it took Billy and I a long time to get over it, for adventures of that kind were few with us.

One beautiful October morning Billy and I started out to walk from Ogden to Salt Lake City, a distance of about thirty-seven miles, and as we had a little money in our pockets, which we had earned by laboring in the harvest fields, we felt happy and independent, for what we had earned we had come by fairly and were beholden to nobody for. The weather was fine, cool and sunny, and it infected our spirits to a high degree. We talked and laughed aloud, whistled or sang as the mood came over us. The country through which we were walking was fine, for it was dotted with grain fields, meadows, orchards, snug farm-houses, and here and there along the road side, by shade trees.

"Say Billy," said I to my chum, "these Mormon fellows have got good taste. See the snug farm-houses they've got, will you; the fine orchards, the splendid fields and all the other nice things. Wish I was a Mormon. I wouldn't mind living in a country like this. It's mighty snug and cosy."

"It surely is fine. Windy," retorted Billy, "but I don't know whether I'd like to be a Mormon or not. Does a fellow have to marry a lot of women if he is a Mormon?"

"I don't know, Billy. If he does, then I wouldn't want to be one. I wouldn't mind marrying a girl or two, one for every day and one for Sunday, but two is company and three is a crowd. Two will do me. But how about the mother-inlaws? Is a mother-in-law thrown in every time a fellow marries a girl?"

"Search me, Windy; I don't know. If the mother-in-law is thrown in every time, it's tough. No Mormonism in mine, thank you. They say Brigham Young had twenty-eight wives. He must have been a lustful, liquorish old codger, and if one fellow has so many I wouldn't think there'd be enough to go around. I've heard that the Mormons are dead stuck on apples, cider and ladies. I wonder if that's so."

"I guess there's some truth in it, Billy, but I don't see what one chap wants so many wives for. Ain't two or three, or half a dozen enough?"

"Does he have to support them all, Windy?" "Sure thing, son. The women can't live on air and scenery, can they? "

"Well, hardly," responded Billy. "Guess I won't join the Mormon Church just yet."

"Wait till you make a strike and get some money ahead, then you can sail in and try your luck with a few wives."

"All right. Windy. Let it be understood though, that I don't take in the mother-in-laws. I like peace and quietness in my home, I do."

Talking thus in a joking or blustering way, we walked along until about noon-time when we came to a clump of trees along the road-side which afforded a pleasant resting place. Between the trees rushed a deep irrigating ditch which was spanned by a substantial stone viaduct.

We iinslung our blankets from our shoulders, dropped them on the sward beside us and sat down on the convenient stump of a tree. There were no houses in the immediate vicinity, though there was an orchard not far away, In about the center of which stood a commodious old farm-house. On the other side of the road were fields from which the corn had just been harvested and was shocked up on the ground.

After regarding our surroundings for a moment or two, we brought forth a generous lunch which we had brought with us, had a royal feast, and washed it down with draughts of water from the irrigating ditch. The ditch-water was clear and cool, but it looked as if there might be some earthen sediment in it. For this, though, we did not care. A little dirt more or less never harmed us.

After we had eaten and drank our fill we pulled forth our pipes and indulged in a smoke, chatting in the meanwhile; soon afterward we lay down and indulged in a sleep • for an hour or two. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon when we awoke, and we concluded then to continue our journey toward Salt Lake. Just as we were getting ready to leave we noticed two girls coming toward us from the direction of Salt Lake. We sat down again and took notice immediately. We wondered why two young ladies would be wandering all alone along the public road. "Are they farmers' wives, school girls, farmers' daughters, or what?" thought we.

"Say Billy, I guess we may be in for a little joy. Let's brace them," suggested L

"What for?" petulantly responded Billy. "We might get into trouble."

"Trouble?" echoed I in derision. "What trouble could we get into by talking to two girls? If they don't want to talk to us they can keep a moving, can't they? I'm going to brace them. You keep mum, if you like."

As the young ladies came nearer to us we observed that they were about seventeen or eighteen years of age, that they were dressed "in calico garments and that they carried books in their hands. Their skirts, which reached to their shoe tops were slightly blown aside occasionally by the breeze as they walked, revealing glimpses of sturdy ankles. The taller one of the two was a blonde with an abundance of yellow hair and features that were charming. She had blue eyes, a milk-white complexion, fine teeth and a shape that was alluring.

The other girl was somewhat shorter in stature and was what might be called a demi-blonde, for her hair was of a chestnut hue; her eyes were hazel in hue, her ears small and her countenance round and full like a harvest moon, but, she too, was graceful in build, and showed in every form and feature, like her companion, that she was country-bred. Both were strong, sturdy and healthy.

The young ladies were talking and laughing aloud as they advanced toward us, and the one with the hazel eyes, when she laughed, squealed like a young colt. A lively and merry lass was she, a romp and a hoyden, I thought, and if she is not a born coquette and heart-smasher, then I miss my guess.

As I regarded these tw.o visions of lovliness my heart went pit-a-pat, and I was smitten. I really don't know which one I liked the best, though they were both enticing. I am dark and fancy blondes, but, other colors fascinate me, too.

I sure was somewhat flustrated, and as to Billy, I don't know how he felt, for my eyes were rivited on the girls and not on him. I have always been a susceptible chap as regards the girls, and it never took me long to lose my head completely or to make a fool of myself when m their company. Billy, though, was resei'ved, cold and distant (at first), but when once he got started he showed himself to be a bigger fool than I am. He just threw up his hands and surrendered unconditionally. A girl could do anything she liked with him.

When the girls reached the spot where we were sitting, I pulled off my hat by way of salute and timidly said, "good day, ladies!"

"How de do," responded the demi-blonde heartily, with a smile, for she saw that I was flustrated.

"This is a lovely day?" queritd I.

' Indeed it ia," responded she.

"Fine country around here," volunteered I.

"Yep," responded she.

The ice being broken and the conversation fairly started, it was kept up, until finally at a shy hint from nie, the girls sat down near us, the denii-blonde near me and the blonde near Billy.

Bye-and-bye Billy and the blonde moved some distance away from us, where they were soon absorbed in conversation, so I had the other charmer all to myself. This is what we had to say to each other:

"Do you live around here?" queried 1.

"About half a mile from here," answered she.

"Just coming from school?"

"Yep," laconically responded she.

"What do your folks do?"

"Ranch," she said.

"Do you like living on a ranch?"

"No, I don't," she snapped. "1 hate it. What fun is there on a ranch? Nothing to see, nowhere to go, the same old thing all the time."

"Why, don't they give any dances or parties around here''" asked I.

"Oh, only once in a while," responded she in a tired way. "Once in a great while I go to a dance in Ogden or Salt Lake, or to the skating rink, and that's about all the fun I have. Wish I could live in Salt l^ake or Ogden. I'm sick of this old place." '

"Well, it must be kind of lonely for you. May I ask what your name is?"

"My name is Annie. What's yours?"

"My name is Windy Bill."

The young girl looked at me to see if I were trifling with her, but when she saw that I was not, she turned her head aside, snickered and then broke out into peals of laughter. I didn't know that I had said anything funny, so I asked her what she was laughing at.

"That name of yours, of course. It's a horrid one. Where did you get it?"

"Oh, I'm a great talker and when I get started I don't know enough sometimes to stop, so as my front name is William, or Bill, somebody nick-named me Windy Bill, and that name has clung to me ever since."

"If it were mine, I think I'd a changed it. It isn't a nice name at all."

"How am I going to change it? That's been my name for years and that's what every one calls me. May be it will be changed some day when I get married," said I, jokingly.

"I don't think any one would marry a man with such a name as that. I am quite sure I wouldn't."

"Pardon me for asking; are you ladies Mormons?"

"Yes, we both are; and so is almost every one else around here. Utah is a Mormon state, you know."

"Is every one in Utah a Mormon?"

"No indeed," replied the young lady. "There are more gentiles than Mormons."

"Is it true that a Mormon can have all the wives he wants?"

"No, it isn't. It is against the law to have more than one wife, and the Mormons are a law-abiding people."

"I've heard that some Mormons have several wives on the sly. Is that true?"

"No, it is not." responded the young lady, reddening with anger. "Some people have very little to do, telling stories about the Mormons. If those kind of people were to mind their own business they would get along much better than they do. It has always been the fashion with some people to fib about the Mormons and to run them down, and to say ill-natured things about them, but the Mormons go along and mind their business and don't interfere with anyone, so I don't see why others can't attend to theirs!"

"Well, miss, please forgive me. I am only asking for information. I don't know much about the Mormon business. I'm told that when a Mormon marries a girl she gets sealed to him. Is that so?"

"I'd advise you to get married yourself and find out, " answered the girl sharply.

"Oh, don't get mad. I don't mean any harm," said I.

"I'm not angry," replied the young lady, "but 1 do hate to hear the Mormons fibbed about."

"I've been told," persisted I, "that when Mormons get married they get sealed to each other in the Temple at Salt Lake in a secret chamber. Is that so?"

"Young man, you're far too inquisitive, and I think you had ])etter look for information some where else," angrily exclaimed the young lady.

With that she arose and declared that she would have to go home.

"Christeenah, ' shrilled she to her companion, "it's getting late and we'd better be going!"

"All right," shrieked back Christeenah. "I'm a coming!"

I had grieviously offended Miss Annie, but I knew not how, for I was only seeking information and did not know that I had said any thing to hurt her feelings. I felt heartily sorry now, for the girl's good looks and cleverness had made an impression upon me and I hated to see her depart. I wanted to draw her out more, and to indulge in a little love making had she permitted, but I had spoiled it all. I felt down-hearted for a few moments, but this feeling soon gave way to angei'. for if the girl wanted to get mad about nothing, she was welcome to do so and be blowed to her.

Billy had to break away from his charmer, too, and he was mighty loth to do it. He told me afterward that Christeenah was a loving girl, and that she had let him squeeze her hand and kiss it, but that was as far as she would let him go. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen he said.

"Say, Billy, let's us join the Mormon Church and marry them two girls," said I, to see what Billy would say.

"Join nothing,'' responded Billy. "I aint no Mormon and I don't intend to become one. That girl was mighty tempting, though," reflectively added he, with a grave countenance and far-away gaze. "Darned if I wouldn't like to marry her."

The dear creatures had gone and left us. We thoughtfully continued our journey toward Salt Lake, thinking thoughts unutterable and not saying much, but, bye-and-bye our gay spirits returned to us, for what was the Mse of feeling blue.

As we were good walkers it did not take us long to reach Salt Lake City, and we did not have to walk all the distance either, for a hay wagon came along with the driver perched on a high seat in the front part of the wagon, and he stopped his team and asked us if we wanted a ride. We told him, yes, and climbed up on the seat beside him. He was ^oing to Salt Lake, he told us, and during the two hours that we spent in his company we had quite a chat with him.

When asked the question, he informed us that he was a Mormon, and from the information he gave us, we could understand that he was quite well-to-do and pretty high up in the Church. Some of the questions we put to him made him smile, but he answered them frankly and good-naturedly. He was a handsome man, about thirty-five or there-about, had a black mustache, agreeable features and manners, and was a farmer. He was going to Salt Lake to make some purchases, he told us.

It was about seven o'clock when we got into Salt Lake, and as we were hungry, the first thing we did was to hunt up a restaurant where we had a satisfactory meal for fifty cents for the both of us. After a smoke and a little saunter through the streets, we hunted up a rooming house. There we obtained a large, well-furnished room with a large bed in it for the two of us for four bits — fifty cents.

We awoke bright and early the next morning feeling happy as clams at high tide and soon we were ready for putting in a day of sight-seeing and enjoyment.

Salt Lake is a pretty large city, the capitol of Moriuondoni, and lies in a snug valley, surrounded by fairly lofty, but rather bare mountains. The streets are wide and well shaded, through some of them run brooks of clear mountain water, it contains many business streets, and line residences. A great many of the people are Mormons, but there are many who are not. All, however, seem to get along together amicably enough. The Mormons have learned long ago that they cannot have the whole state of Utah to themselves, so they treat the gentile courteously. Utah is a large state covering a great deal of territory, but today (1913) it does not contain, all told, half a million of people — about 400,000 is nearer the mark.

There is a great deal of space fenced in about the wonderful Mormon Temple in Salt Lake, the grounds of which are laid out tastefully in trees, shrubs and flowers, but as it requires some red tape to get into the Temple, Billy and I concluded not to go in. There is a Tithing House connected with the Temple, we were informed, in which every Mormon is obliged to go occasionally to offer up a tithe of his earnings to hell) sui)port the Church. This is a duty which no Mormon must fail in, for if he does he will be regarded with disfavor and soon get into bad standing with his co-religionists. There is a Tithing House in Ogden, too, and in every other Mormon settlement, however small or large, I believe.

The Mormons are clever people, and in almost every way are ]\ke oth(MS, except in the matter of religion and in a few other respects. They follow the strict text of the old testament, which says that they can have all the wives and concubines they want, but the United States law steps in and says that they can have only one wife, for if they have more than one, that constitutes polygamy which is contrary to the statutes made and provided. Under these circumstances the poor Mormons are in a quandary, for if they follow the strict teachings of their bible, they will get into trouble with the United States authorities, and if they do not follow the teachings of the good book, then they are acting in a reprehensible manner, too. What are the poor fellows to do under these circumstances?

I am going to tell you a little secret. Don't give me away, please! They have all the wives they want, who get "sealed' to them on the sly. Sh! Don't say I told you. How do I know it? Why, almost every one in Salt Lake who is not a Mormon will tell you so. Where there is smoke there is fire, but the Mormons deny strenuously and emphatically that there is any thing unlawful going on in their midst.

Some people think that Mormonism is dying out. It is not. It is spreading. Today there are Mormon settlements in Idaho, Montana and other western states and territories, and more are being established. Proselyting is going on. The Mormons are into all kinds of enterprises, such as banks, railroads, trusts, commercial affairs, agriculture, manufacturing, etc., and many of them are wealthy. Some of them can support a mighty big harem, if they chose, and many of them do so, no doubt.

There was Brigham Young, for instance. He is dead now, but when he was alive he was into all kinds of enterprises, and was a leader and organizer in many. He was a man of wonderful genius and the true founder of Mormonism, one may say. Mormonism and Brigham Young are , synonomous terms, and Brigham's name will live when that of every other Mormon leader will have been forgotten.

Billy and I meandered around Salt Lake a great deal during the few days that we spent there, and in the saloons especially did we learn a great deal about Mormonism, some of which may have been true and some not. We were told that the Mormon women like finery as well as any one else, and that they were right up-to-date in that regard.

Ogden is another Mormon town of some consequence, and there we went next. It lies at the base of the Wahsatch range of mountains and is thirty-seven miles distant from Salt Lake.

Ogden is a railroad center and full of restaurants, overland lunch places, rooming houses, hotels, and the like. It

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contains several fine streets which are full of handsome, up-to-date stores. This burg, too, is alive with Mormons, and the tabernacle there is a sight to see. It is an immense eggshaped building, capable of holding ten thousand or more people, the interior being so constructed that if one drops a piu upstairs, downstairs, or anywhere else in the building, one can distinctly hear the noise of its fall anywhere within its precincts. When Billy let a pin drop, he standing at one end of the building and I at the other, we were mystified.

As our money was pretty nearly all gone by this time, we slept out several nights under a cosy shed in a brick-yard with our warm blankets over us. We liked this way of sleeping just as well as snoozing in a bed, and better, for rooms are sometimes rather stuffy. The outdoor life strengthens and hardens one, and we felt fit for anything. We were strong and haidy as mules and could work like them and eat like them, too.

It may not be a bad idea if 1 were to give a short description of my little partner, Billy, here, so that you may get a better idea of what sort of an individual he was like. As regards myself I need not say much, for you will perceive wh;it kind of an individual I am as this narrative proceeds.

Billy was an English chap, born in the town of York, Yorkshire, after which the the little old town of New York City is named, and a place famous for Yorkshire puddings. Maybe you've heard of these puddings? I'd like to taste one to see what they're like. They must be good since they're so famous.

Billy was what might be called a sti'awberry blonde, for his hair was somewhat like the color of a strawberry, and so was his moustache. The little fellow was not more than about five feet two in height, but he was as strong and tough as wire, and his powers of endurance were great, greater than mine, who was taller than he. Billy was much enamoured of that moustache of his, for it was the cutest little one ever seen. It was not one of the straggly kind with hairs sticking

IG

out all over it, but well shaped, neat and compact, with just the cutest little spit-curls at either end imaginable. It was a darling moustache and no mistake. Maybe Billy wasn't proud of it! He admired it hugely, and whenever an opporportunity offered would pull forth his looking-glass from his pocket, curl and fondle the moustache, and admire it to his heart's content. Many a time I bantered him about it and told him that I wished T had something like that; how much he'd take for it, etc., but Billy took no heed of such pleasantries. He just contemplated himself in the glass and grinned. And yet I cannot say that the little fellow was vain, for he was not stuck on the girls and would rather avoid than meet them. Whether this was diffidence or reserve, I don't know.

Billy had blue eyes, a fair complexion, and small hands and feet, which were in proportion to his size, I suppose. Some people called him "Shorty," but Billy did not like the appelation, so I never used it. He considered himself as big as anybody else. And so he was, too. I, his partner, who know him well, can cheerfully testify that he was a man, every inch of him, even if his inches were not so many. Neither was he a bad-looking chap, nor had he a bad temper. His disposition was an equable one, and he never grew angry unless I teased him too much. Altogether, he was as nice a little fellow as one could find in a day's travel.

In different places that we had been in, we had heard miners speak of Virginia City, and what a great old mining camp it had been, so we concluded to go there and have a look at it. Virginia City w^as a long way from Ogden, but that did not matter to us, for there were railroads running in that direction that we could beat, therefcu'e, distance had no terrors for us.

But I did not finish my description of Billy, wholly, so 1 had better do so before I proceed with my tale.

Billy was born and raised in York, which lies somewhere north of London, he told me, and attended school in his native city until he was nearly twentv years of age. His parents, wlio woro not (Hluciited, k:vw tli(> ;i(lv:nitaK(~s of an edncalion. and coiicliHU'd (o .!;iv(> l{ill\ llic licsl tlu-ic was {•oinj;-. Had tlu'.v hocMi able financially, (licy would hav(> scnl him lo (•olU\i;(\ but as tlu\v could no( alTord to do so. Billy had lo i;('t alon^ as w(dl ;is be could wilhout I be bi,t;ii(M- education.

Billy's ratluM- dicMl wbcu lie (Bill.\) was about uinclccu years of ai'c. and as bo died a poor man Bill.\"s uiotlicr soon found it dillicull lo make l)olb cuds meet. Tbere was a daughli'r to provide tor, too, so I!iil.\' was lal<en from sciiool and appreutic((l to a iiaiMiess-maker. .\|)i)r(>nlices liave to serve (|uile a number of Ncars in the old co\intr\', and are taught their trade thoroughly, but all the compiMisation Billy g(jt while learniiifi; was his room and board and a I'tnv haypennies (hall'-])ennics) occasionally thrown in which he sptMit for meat i)ies or lollii)0|)s (candy). The fii'ub was not near as .t;ood as h(> koI at home, nor was anything; (dse, be told me.

.\fter Billy luid worked a couple of years an idea began to (loat throuf^h his noddle that he was not j^etlinK rich vi-ry fast, so he became dissatislied and conchuhMl to skij) oul at the first opportunity. He had heard tales of how easy it is to get ricli in America oi' in the colonies, and he (old his mother when he visited lier that he wanted to ko abroad and get rich quick. She i)Ooh-po()he(l the idea, and told her son that he would get rich quick enough at home after lie bad mastered his ti'ade, but Billy could not see it that way. 1I(> could see no future before him at all, for even his master did not seem any too i)rosp(>rous, so he Ivcjit on working and thinliing, and concluded to Iveep his jilaus to himself, lor no one sympathized with them. He baled to leave bis mother and sister who had been so good to liiiu, but be would get rich for tlieir sakes and hel]) them along. He was ambitious, and i)roi)osed to satisfy his aml)ition, come what wonhl. He could nuike a pretty good harness, a, collar or a saddle, and had acquired a pretty fair kno\vl(>dge of his trade, but he was not yet able to do the finer work. He did not i)roi)ose to learn it, eithei', for he had different objects in view. Old York was too slow for him and so was his apprenticeship. I believe he told me that he was expected to serve seven years. Billy slept at the rear of his boss' shop, and it was his duty to get up early in the morning to sweep out, dust off the shelves, stock and counters, to clean up generally, and have the establishment in apple pie order for business bright and early. After breakfast it was his wont to put in a long day of work.

One morning when the boss came down he loMnrl the shutters still up, the place unswept and undusted and Billy's little cubby-hole of a room vacant. Billy's little bed had not been slept in, and the boss stood there perplexed and bewildered, wondering what had become of the boy. He rushed over to Billy's mother and asked her if she knew where he was, but she told him that she had not the remotest idea. Suddenly she remembered what Billy had told her a long while ago about flitting, so she informed the boss of her suspicious. He became hopping mad then. He threatened to have the law on the lad and to make him suffer for his breach of contract. But it is usually well to catch your bird before you cook it. Billy had flown the coop late at night and by this time was over the hills and far away, well on his way to London.

London was a good ways off, and seems longer when one has to hike it, but Billy declared that he didn't mind the walk. The farther he got away from old York the more delighted he became, for he knew that the boss would never catch him now.

The poor little fellow had less than an English shilling (25 cents) in his possession when he left home, and he declared that London was several hundred miles away — at least it seemed so to him. He had a hard time of it reaching there, sleeping out and nearly starving, but in the end he arrived in London right side up with care, and unmolested by his boss or any one else.