THE EXACT CENSUS-TAKER.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 2062, 2 October 1880, Page 3

THE EXACT CENSUS-TAKER.

The most precise and thorough censusenumerator is just now passing through a mining camp in Southern Nevada, and he is having a hard time of it. As an illustration, he called at an old prospector’s cabin the other morr-ing, and taking out his big blank book, proceeded to put the miner through the entire category of questions about as follows : “ What street do you live on ?” “ Don’t live on no street 5 I live yer in the rocks.” “What’s the number of your_ house?” asked the interrogator, still adhering to the text of the blank form. “ The number of my cabin ?” quizzed tho miners “it’s No.T, 1 reckon.” “ What’s your name ? ” “ Bill Lamar.” “ Are you white, black, mulatto, Chinese or Indian ? ” “ Wal, neow,” said Bill, slightly ruffled and rising, “I don’t know what yer driving at, stranger, but I want yer to understand that ’round this yer oampt I bears the reputation of being white.” “ Are you male or female ? ” eolemnly inquired the questioner. •i ]y; e ? —me ? ” shouted Bill taking a step nearer his visitor and starting to roll up his sleeves—“ Me ? —l’m a man every inch of me ! ” Still pursuing his dnty, the governmental agent continued : “ Are yon sick or temporally disabled ?” “Sick? disabled?” roared Bill dancing wildly before the young man with the big book, “you blank fool—no!” “ Blind ?” “Not much!” hissed tho miner with eyes flashing. “ Idiotic?” Wild with rage and glaring like a madman at this question, Bill shook his fist under the agent’s nose just as the latter looked mildly up and innocently followed up his queries with — “Insane, crippled, bed-ridden ?” This was too much. Bill’s fist came down on the census-taker’s unfortunate head like a rock-hammer, while at tho same time his number fourteen brogans sought such a leverage under the poor fellow’s coat-tails, as lifted him clean out of doors, book and all. The amazed enumerator gave one glance back at tho advancing form of the most dangerous looking human being bis eyes had ever rested on, and started for a gulch a hundred yards away, where he rubbed down his bruises, and, seating himself on a rock, opened his book, and after tho name of “ Bill Lamar” wrote the words : “ Maimed, crippled or otherwise disabled ?” “No 1” “ Insane ?” “Yes!”