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Updated: May 27, 2025
"One evenin' Dan Boggs, who's allers tantalisin' 'round askin' questions it looks like a sleepless cur'osity is proned into Dan ropes at Peets concernin' this topic: "'Whatever do they teach in colleges, Doc? asks Dan. "'They teaches all of the branches," retorts Peets. "'An' none of the roots, adds Colonel Sterett, 'as a cunnin' Yank once remarks on a o'casion sim'lar.
"'As me an' Jeff reepairs up to the house, I notes the most renegade-lookin' nigger followin' behind. ""Whoever's dis yere nigger?" I asks. ""He's my valet," says Jeff. "'My arm's a heap too slight, goes on Colonel Sterett, followin' a small libation, 'to strike a blow for the confed'racy, but my soul is shorely in the cause.
'No, says Colonel Sterett, 'my own personal parent simmers down a whole lot compared to my grandfather. He don't take his pol'tics so much to heart; his democracy ain't so virulent an' don't strike in. His only firm stand on questions of state, as I relates the other day, is when he insists on bein' nootral doorin' the late war.
Texas Thompson, however, allows he witnesses the same distant expression in the eyes of a foogitive from jestice. "Colonel Sterett makes a good impression. He evolves his journal an' names it the Coyote, a name applauded by us all. I'll read you a few of them earliest items; which I'm able to give these yere notices exact, as I preserves a file of the Coyote complete.
"'As I sits yere, a relatin' of them exploits, an' Colonel Sterett tips the canteen for another hooker, 'as I sits yere, gents, all free an' sociable with what's, bar none, the finest body of gents that ever yanks a cork or drains a bottle, I've seen the nobility of Kaintucky the Bloo Grass Vere-de-Veres ride up on a blood hoss, hitch the critter to the fence, an' throw away a fortune buckin' Jeff's merry-go-round with them wooden steeds.
Of course Wolfville looks on some amazed at this yere labor movement, but declar's itse'f nootral. "'Let every gent skin his own eel, says Enright; 'the same bein' a fav'rite proverb back in Tennessee when I'm a yooth. This collision between Colonel Sterett an' them free an' independent printers he has in his herd is shorely what may be called a private game.
But knowin' the clown pays for all; sech trivial considerations as pullin' on tent ropes an' spreadin' sawdust disappears before the honour of his a'quaintance. It's my knowin' the clown that leads to disaster. "'This merrymaker, who's a "jocund wight" as Colonel Sterett says, gets a heap drunk one evenin' 'an' sleeps out in the rain, an' he awakes as hoarse as bull-frogs.
"'You're lookin' for trouble, Doc, says Colonel Sterett, kind o' laughin' at Peets. 'You reminds me of a onhappy sport I encounters long ago in Looeyville. "'An' wherein does this Bloo Grass party resemble me? asks Peets. "'It's one evenin', says Colonel Sterett, 'an' a passel of us is settin' about in the Gait House bar, toyin' with our beverages.
"It's the barkeep at the Red Light posts Colonel Sterett as to them perils. A Mexican comes trackin' along into the Colonel's room in the second story what he calls his 'sanctum' with a note. It's from the barkeep an' reads like this: RED LIGHT SALOON. Huggins is in here tankin' up an' makin' war medicine. He's packin' two guns. He says he's going to plug you for that piece.
"These yore ink-riots don't go on more'n two months, however, when Colonel Sterett decides that the o'casion calls for somethin' more explicit. As he says, 'Patience ceases to be trumps, an' so he saddles up a whole lot an' rides over to Red Dog, personal.
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