1898 



GLEANINGS IN BKE CULTURE. 



TOl 



syndicate had offered Uncle Sam more than a 

 million of dollars just for this spring alone; 

 but Uncle Sam replied, " No, no, boys; you 

 can not have that spring, nor any thing else 

 in Yellowstone Park, to speculate on and 

 make money out of. This whole domain is to 

 be kept just as God made it, as nearly as we 

 can. You can drink all the water you choose, 

 or carry it away in bottles for your own use ; 

 but no speculating. You Yankees may trade 

 and barter all you please anywhere else in the 

 whole United States ; but this little ' garden- 

 patch ' is for the people. Every child of our 

 country may come here, help himself, and 

 enjoy these things, without money and with- 

 out price ; but they are not to be sold or 

 peddled out. ' ' 



ONE OF THE WYLIE TENTS. 



I svippose, friends, some of you remember 

 that I almost always have some sad experience 

 with drinking-water when out on my trips. 

 Well, some kind friend informed me that 

 everybody could drink just as much as he 

 could " hold" of the water from this spring, at 

 all times and under all occasions, and it would 

 not and really could not hurt him a bit. If 

 he were dyspeptic, or had other troubles, it 

 would just do him good — that is all. And so 

 I drank. Now, that water is exceedingly 

 delicious. It has a sort of tart twang to it 

 that just hits the spot exactly. Like the 

 melon-tree of Bermuda it seemed to "fill a 

 long-felt want." There was not any kind of 

 cup to drink out of. My good friend Wylie 

 says he can not keep a cup there, anyhow he 

 can fix it. All sorts of tourists are visiting 

 the springs continually, every day, and even 

 after dark, and they will carry off every thing 

 in the shape of a drinking-cup. I was going 

 to propose making him a low offer of a gross 

 of our cheap tin cups; but I was discouraged 

 when I thought of the expense it would in- 

 volve to get them there. So I bent up a sort 

 of drinking-cup from the bottom of a tin can. 



After I had got it fixed I kept testing it to see 

 how it would work ; and as I could not tell 

 just how much it held, I did not know how 

 much water I drank. The next day I con- 

 cluded ''too mueli of a good thing is worse 

 than none ; " but I will tell you more about 

 that later on. 



Did I tell you that it freezes a little almost 

 every night in Yellowstone Park? Well, it 

 does ; and after the sun went down I got on 

 my overcoat and put a big silk handkerchief 

 in my bicycle cap, but I was chilly even then, 

 and began to wonder if I should not have to 

 go to bed just because I could not keep warm 

 as other people do. When I first got into 

 camp I noticed there were some benches set 

 in the center of the village, in the form of a 

 .square; but I did not notice some 

 blackened sticks in the center of this 

 little square. Just as I was beginning 

 to feel a little " blue " with cold, one of 

 the men started a fire ; and when I 

 planted myself in one of those exceed- 

 ingly easy camp-chairs, in just a few 

 minutes I was "so comfortable;" and 

 some of the ladies came out of the differ- 

 ent tents and sat down ; others dropped 

 in, including the people who did the 

 work, and by and by we had quite a 

 family circle. Well, right in the midst 

 of our merriment a strange and unnatu- 

 ral voice issued from the doorway of 

 one of the tents. It was a phonograph. 

 One of the tourists had brought it along, 

 and he manipulated it so as to give us a 

 first-class city entertainment. When 

 the crowd encored, of course he had to 

 repeat ; and, didn't we have fun that 

 evening? I enjoyed myself so much 

 that I then and there declared I would 

 have a tent like one of the Wylie tents, 

 in our dooryard, and then I would have 

 a campfire around which we could sit on 

 frosty nights, and enjoy the frosty air 

 while the campfire would keep us warm. 



THE OHIO STATE FAIR, AT COLUMBUS. 



On the morning of Sept. 2d, just about as 

 the sun was rising, it came into my head that 

 I ought to visit, at least briefly, our State 

 Fair. There were several obstacles in the 

 way. First, John was in Canada, and Ernest 

 was somewhere in York State, and they had 

 left me in charge of the ranch. Second, it 

 was the last day of the fair. It must be now 

 or never. Third, there were no trains run- 

 ning so I could get there and back that night. 

 But there was a train on the Big Four that 

 would reach Wellington, 20 miles west of here, 

 at 8:55, and it was after G o'clock already, 

 and I had not had my breakfast. I got the 

 latter, however, in double-quick time, grabbed 

 the Columbia chainless that doesn't need any 

 oiling nor any thing else; and I made my 20 

 miles in an hour and three-quarters. 



In one respect, at least, and a very impor- 

 tant one, our State Fair was a success. No 

 drinks were for sale on the grounds, and, 

 thanks to the Anti-saloon League, none 



