A Nevada Funeral.

Cromwell Argus, Volume IV, Issue 182, 6 May 1873, Page 7

A Nevada Funeral.

(From “ Roughing It ,” b<f Mark Twain..) There was a great time over Buck Fanshaw dien he died. He was a representative citi:eiK He bad “ killed his man”—not in his iwn quarrel, it is true, but in the defence of stranger beset by numbers. He had kept sumptuous saloon. He had been the pro'netorof a dashing helpmeet, whom he could !? ve discarded without the formality of a aorcc. He had held a high position in the ‘fe department, and had been a very War'mnii politics. When be died there was a ffeat lamentation throughout the town, but specially in the vast bottom stratum of society.

f °n the inquest it was shown that Buck nnshaw, in the delirium of a wasting typhoid jner, had taken arsenic, shot himself through e body, cut his throat, and jumped out of tour-storey window and broke his neck ; «after due deliberation the jury, sad and t , ai ' U ) hut with intelligence unblinded bv borrow, brought in a verdict of death “ by of God.” What could the p !(l no without juries ? rocligious preparations were made for the ‘ /!! the vehicles in tlie town were n» • n 0 r a the saloons were put in mourn8. all the municipal and fire-company flaws dl hj ? n 8 at half-mast, and all the firemen fed to muster in uniform and bring their duly draped in black.

Regretful resolutions were passed, and various committees were appointed ; among others, a committee of one was appointed to call on a minister—a fragile, gentle, spiritual new fledgling from an eastern theological seminary, and as yet unacquainted with the wavs of the mines. The committee-man, ** Scotty Briggs,” made his visit. Being admitted to the presence, he sat down before the clergyman, placed his firehat on an unfinished manuscript sermon under the minister’s nose, took from it a red silk handkerchief, wiped his brow, and heaved a sigh of dismal impressiveness explanatory of his business. He choked, and even shed tears ; but with an effort he mastered his voice, and said, in lugubrious tones—- “ Are you the duck that runs the gospelmill next door ?”

“ Am I the—pardon me, I believe I do not understand.”

With another sigh and half sob, Scotty rejoined—“ Why, you see, we are in a bit of trouble ; the boys thought maybe you’d give us a lift, if we’d tackle you—that is, if I’ve got the rights of it, and you are the head clerk of the doxology works next door.” I am the shepherd in charge of the flock whose fold is next door.” “ The which ?” “ The spiritual adviser of the little company of believers whose sanctuary adjoins these premises.” Scotty scratched his head, reflected a moment, and then said—“ You rather hold over me, pard. I reckon I can’t call that hand.” “ How ? I beg your pardon. What did 1 understand you to say ?” “Well, you’ve rather got the bulge on me. Or maybe we’ve both got the bulge somehow. You don’t smoke me and I don’t smoke you. You see, one o f the boys has passed in his checks, and we want to give him a good fendoff, and so the thing I’m now on is to rout out somebody to jerk out a little chin-music for us, and waltz him through handsome.” “My friend, I seem to grow more and more bewildered. Your observations are wholly incomprehensible to me. Cannot you simplify them some way? At first, I thought perhaps I understood you, hut now I grope. Would it not expedite matters if jnm restricted yourself to categorical statements of fact unincumbered with ohstruct'ng accumulations of metaphor and allegory ?” Another pause, and more reflection. Then Scottv saV*—“l’ll have to pass that, I jrdge.” “ How ?”

“ You’ve raised me out, pard.” “ T still tail to catch your meaning.”

“Why, that last lead of yotirn is ton many for me—that’s the idea. 1 can’t neither trump nor follow suit.”

The clergyman sank back in his chair perplexed. Scotty leaned his head on his hand, and gave himself up to reflection. Presently his face came up, Sorrowful but confident. “I’ve got it now, ao’s you can savvy,” said he. “ What we want is a gospel-sharp. See ?” “A what?” “ Gospel-sharp—parson.” “Oh ! why did you not say so before? I am a clergyman—a parson.” “Now yon talk ! Yon see my blind, and straddled it like a man. Put it there !” extending a brawnv paw, which closed over the minister’s small hand, and gave it a shake indicative of fraternal sympathy and fervent gratification. “Now we are all right, pard. Let’s start fresh. Don’t yon mind me shuffling a little, becuz we’re in a power of trouble. You see, one of the boys has gone up the flume.” “Gone where ?” “Up the flume—throw’d up the sponge, you know.” “ Thrown up the sponge ?” “ Yes—kicked the bucket ” “Ah—has departed to that mysterious country from whose bourne no traveller returns ?” “ Return ? Well, 1 reckon not. Why, pard, he’s dead !” “ Yes, I understand.” “O, do you ? Well, I thought maybe von might be getting tangled once more. Yes, you see, lie’s dead again ” “ Again ! why, was he ever dead before ?” “Dead before? No. Do you reckon a man has got as many lives as a cat ? But yon bet, lie’s awful dead now, poor old boy, and I wish I’d never seen him this day. I don’t know no better friend than Buck Fanshaw. I know’d him by the back ; and when 1 know a man like him I freeze to him—you hear me? Take him all round, there was never a bnllier man in the mines. No man ever know’d Buck Fanshaw to go back on a friend. But it’s all up. It ain’t no use. They’ve scooped him. ’ “ Scooped him ?” “Yes—death has. Well, well, we’ve got to give him up. Yes, indeed. It’s a kind of hard world, after all, ain’t it ? But, pard, he was a rustler. Yon ought to see him get started once. He was a bully boy with a glass eye. Just spit in his face, and give him room according to his strength, and it was just beautiful to see him peel and go in on it !” “Quit! On what?”

“ On the shoot. On the shoulder. On the fight. Understand ? Be didn’t give a continental—for anybody. Beg your pardon, friend, for coming so near saying a cuss word —but you see I'm on an awful strait in this palaver, on account of having to cram down everything so mild. But we’ve got to give him up. There ain’t no getting around that, I don’t reckon. Now, if we can get you to help plant him- ” “ Preach the funeral discourse ? Assist at the funeral obsequies ?” “ Obs’qnies is good. We are going to up the thing regardless, you know. He was always nifty, himself, and so you bet his

funeral ain’t going to be no slouch ; solid silver door-plate on his coffin, six plumes on the hearse, and a nigger on the box, with a biled shirt and plug hat—how’s that for high ? And we’ll take care of you, parti. We’ll fix you all right. There will be a kerridgo for you ; and whatever you want you just step out and we’ll tend to it. We’Ve got a shebang fixed up for you too, and it’s behind in No. I’s house, and toot your horn, if you don’t sell a clam. Put Illicit through as bullv as you can, pard, for anybody that know'd him will tell you that ho was one of the whitest men that was ever in the mines. You can’t draw it too strong. He never could stand it to see things going wrong. He’s done more to make this town peaceable than any man in it. I’ve seen him lick four Greasers in eleven minutes myself. If a thing wanted regulating, he war n’t the man to go browsing around for somebody to do it, but he would go in and regulate it himself. He warn’t a Catholic, but it didn’t make no difference about that when it came down to what a man’s right was-—and so, when some roughs jumped the Catholic bone-yard, and started in to mark town lots in it, he went in for ’em ! and he cleaned ’em, too. I was there and seen it myself.” “ That was very well, indeed—at least the impulse was—whether the act was strictly defensible or not. Had deceased any religious convictions ? That is to say, did he feel a dependence upon or acknowledge allegiance to a higher power I" More reflection.

“ I reckon you’ve stumped me again, pard. Could you say it over once more, and say it slower?”

“ Well, to simplify it somewhat, was he, or rather hj d he been connected with any organisation sequestered frem secular concerns and devoted to self-sacrilice and the interests of morality ?” “ All down but nine—set ’em up on the other alljy, pard !” “ What did I understand yon to say?” “ Why, you're most too many for me, you know. When you get in with your left 1 hunt grass every time. Every time you draw you fill ; but I don’t seem to have any luck. Let’s have a new deal?” “ How ? Begin again ?” “That’s it.” “ Very well ; was ho a good man, and—” “ There—l see that; don’t put another chip till Iha k at my hand. A good man, says you ? Pard, it ain’t no name for it. He was the best man that ever—pard, yon would have doated on that man. He could 1 me any ga’o it of Irs inches in America. It wis him that put down the riot, last election, be.o e it got a siart ; and everybody said he was the only man that could have done it. He waltzed in with a trumpet in one hand and a spanner in the other, and sent fourteen home on a shutter in less than three minutes. He had that riot all broken up and prevented nice before anybody got a a chance to strike a blow. He was always for peace, and he would have peace ; he could not stand disturbance. Pard, he was a great loss to the town. It would please the boys if you could chip in something about that, and do him justice. Here once, when the Micks got to throwing stones through the Methodist Sunday School windows, Buck Fanshaw, all of his own notion, shut up his saloon and took up a couple of six-shooters and mounted guard over the Sunday School, Says he, ‘No Irish need apply !’ And they didn’t. He was the bnlliest man in the mountains, pard ; he could run faster, jump higher, hit harder, and hold more tangle-foot whisky W'ithout spilling than any other man in seventeen counties. Put that in, pard ; it’ll please the boys more than anything you could say. And you can say, pard, that he never shook his mother.” “ Never shook his mother ?” “ That’s it—any of the boys will tell you so.”

“ "ell, but why slioriel he shake her !”

“ That’s what I say—but some people does ?”

“ Not people of ar.y re onto ?” “Well, seine that a\enge pretty so-so.” “ In my opinion, a man that would offer violence to his mothir ought to- ” “ Cheese it, pard ; you’ve banked your ball clean outside the string. What 1 was a-drivin’ at was, that he never throw’d rdf on his mother*—don’t you sec? No, indeed. He gave her a house to live in, and town lots and plenty of money : and he looked after her and took care of her all the time ; and when she was down with the small-pox, I’m darned if he didn’t sit up nights and miss her himself! Beg your pardon for saying it—it hopped out too epiick for yours truly. You’ve treated me like a gentleman, and I ain’t the man to hurt your feelings intentional. I think you’re white. I think you’re a square man, pard. I like you, and I’ll lick any man that don’t. I’ll lick him till he can’t tell his face from a last year’s corpse. Put it there !” Another fraternal hand-shako. Exit.

The obsequies were ;ill the boys could desire. Such a marvel of funeral pomp had never been seen in Yi'gnia. The plumed hearse, the dirge-breathing brass band, the closed marts of bus ness the flags d roe pi nr at half mast, the long plodding procession of uniformed secret societies, military battalions and lire companies, draped engines, carriages of officials, and citizens in vehicles and on foot, attracted multitudes of spectators to the sidewalks, roofs, and windows ; and for years afterwards, the degree of grandeur attained by any civic display in Virginia was determined by comparison with the funeral of Buck Fanshaw.

Pergasaon Bmch of Promise Case. In lash issue, it will he remembered that a paragraph appeared, to the effect that Hit 1 Janies Fergus m and Ids lady are to be sued upon their arrival at Wellington for a breach of promise of m image on the part of the ladv : damages, £5 ),OOJ. The following are said to be tne circumstances oiitof which the oise has arisen, given unon the authority of the Melbourne Ilva’d !—“ There is some romance in this alliance. Miss Uichtnanu was for many years engaged to her cousin, a Mr Fleming, and aTairs went smoothly while Mr Fleming remained in the colony. ' He took a trip however, and during his absence Sir James Fergusson saw the lady and admired her, and s night her hand. Ic would be difficult to say whether the lad” at first reciprocated this attachment. Sir James seems to have won the good opinion of the young lady’s guardian, her uncle, a rich Moimta mine proprietor. He favoured the distinguished suitor’s addresses, and finally Miss Richmanu gave her consent. Sir James left for England, and shortly afterwards Miss Richmann followed, accompanied bv her guardian. They had scarcely left Adelaide when young Fleming arrived, and his consternation was great at finding that the dove had flown, and that Miss Ilichuiann was on the wav to Europe to become Ladv Fergus* son. The hi He’s fortune, it is understood, is not held under her own right, but is a marriage portion bestowed by her uncle and guardian. The moral of all this is that long engagements, like other delays, are dangerous.”