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Updated: June 1, 2025
The real American, if he was born in the East, does not talk with contempt about the West; if he is a Westerner he does not pretend that all the good in the world is on his side of the Mississippi. Nor, wherever he came from, does he try to keep up old quarrels between North and South. Theodore Roosevelt was an American, and admired by Americans everywhere.
The "old resident" in the East becomes increasingly convinced with every added year that an Oriental is a different kind of human being from a Westerner. As he becomes accustomed to the externals of the Oriental civilization, he forgets its comical aspects, he even comes to appreciate many of its conveniences.
"Come and roost along with me," he bade Johnnie, the single eye under the wet-combed, tawny bang smiling almost tenderly at the boy. When they were all comfortably settled, "Our good friend here got most o' the information," informed Father Pat. "So, One-Eye, wouldn't ye like t' " "Oh, not me! Not me!" the Westerner answered quickly. "I ain't no hand for tellin' nothin'! No, Father! Please!
I don't want to go on," Virginia insisted. "You are a regular westerner, Mrs. Aydelot," Carey declared. "But you haven't been out here long. I heard of your passing through our town late last summer. I was up on Big Wolf then and failed to see you. I know something of your husband, but I have never met him."
"Did I mention the Rutherfords?" he asked, looking straight into the eye of the Western Express man. "I reckon you didn't hear me quite right." Elder laughed a little. He was a Westerner himself. "Oh, I heard you, Mr. Dingwell. But I haven't heard a lot of things I'd like to know." The cattleman pushed the sack with his toe. "Money talks, folks say." "Maybe so.
"Maybe I am not a Westerner," said Welborn quietly. "Why you live out here, don't you?" retorted Davy. "Yes, I live out here, a great ways out, clear out to the rim of things. If it wasn't for the mountains hemming the horizon, our 'wide open spaces' would be without limit. I live beyond the Medicine Bow Mountains over next to North Park. My nearest neighbor is two miles away.
The Westerner was born a fighter, trained as a fighter, and the fighting instinct was ever dominant in him. So also was the instinct of loyalty to his fellow-citizens, a desperate, necessary loyalty as to comrades in a besieged city as, indeed, they often were.
We were all ready to yell for mercy and put on our civilized clothes when we heard a terrific riot from outside. Then Petey came in. If there ever was a sure-enough Wild Westerner it was Petey that afternoon. He had on the whole works two-acre hat, red woolen shirt, spurs, and even chaps nice hairy ones. I discovered next day that he had swiped my fine bearskin rug and cut it up to make them.
See, here is where it comes out white and clean, ready to go to the dyeing room." Donald regarded the snowy fleeces with wonder. "You would never dream it could be the same wool!" he said. "Isn't it beautiful? It is not much the way it looks when it leaves the ranch, is it, Thornton?" "I should say not," agreed the Westerner emphatically. "The sheep ought to see how handsome their coats are."
"This is the kind of fool talk you would expect from a boastful Westerner, isn't it?" "No," she replied somewhat formally; "that isn't what I thought. I find everything I see and hear interesting, but there's much I can't understand. One has to feel for its meaning." "It's a very proper attitude," he rejoined with amusement.
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