Skookum Chuck (pseud for R.D. Cumming) - Skookum Chuck Fables

S >> Skookum Chuck (pseud for R.D. Cumming) >> Skookum Chuck Fables

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When the hospital idea was being introduced the social thermometer in
the vicinity was again standing at the zero point; and he remembered
that he had never had the honor of being invited by the society to any
of the annual pioneer banquets. He had received the alien "hand-out"
upon all occasions, and had the same status in the community as a
Chinaman. Of course, being hitherto so much wrapped up in personality,
he took no notice of his social mercury, which always stood at its
minimum. And then, as the management of the various institutions had
been placed in hands which were, undoubtedly, more able and willing to
cope with the difficulties than he, and as everybody seemed satisfied,
there was no occasion for him raising his voice in protest throughout
the dumb wilderness. Being personally very much occupied with his own
stamp mill, and the percentage of the pay-rock, he was just as pleased
that no local burden should be placed across the apex of his spinal
pillar. But now he had arrived at a point where the road divided. New
scenes must be introduced into his play--new machinery installed.
Through the microscope he saw that present conditions could not be
allowed to prevail. He was losing much valuable mineral over the dump.
He was angry. The sensitiveness of his nature had received a shock; he
had been shown up as the most unpopular man in Ashcroft. It was time for
him to have the mercury brought near to the fire. The next time prizes
were being handed around his arm would be the longest, and his voice the
loudest; and they would not be booby prizes neither. He had known men of
a few weeks standing only, rise to the very apex of popularity, while
he, with his ten years initiation, had not yet developed brains enough,
in the estimation of the Ashcroft people, that would justify them in
placing in his charge the management of the most trivial social affair.
What had he done that this measure should be constantly graduated out to
him? Well, things would be different. He would "can" personality and
take up the "big mitt" of public things. But how was this revolution in
the private disposition of a man to be accomplished? He had discovered
the result, but not the cause; so he began rooting among the sage brush
of the sand downs for the foundation stone of his social submergence.

"I have it!" he shouted one day. "If one wishes to make a puncture in
the affairs of this world one must assert himself; one must smite the
table top with one's fist every morning before breakfast. One must
assume such an atmosphere that the whole community will be cognizant of
one's presence, to-day, to-morrow, and all the time. One must assert
one's personality. I have been asleep, stagnant, dormant, an Egyptian
mummy. I have allowed others to take the cream while I have been
passively contented with the whey. I have allowed others to elbow me to
one side like a log languishing in the eddy of a river. Henceforth I
will be in the centre of the stream. I will rush down with the torrent
and be "It" in the Ashcroft "smart set" illumination.

"There will be no public works in future that does not bear my
signature. In a word, I will assert myself, lock, stock and barrel."

So he hit out upon a new highway with the determination to be popular.
He neglected his own stamp-mill that the work might be carried out to a
successful issue. He engaged others to take charge of the tail race and
dump, with which he would not trust his brother on previous occasions.
In fact, he left the steam of the mill at high pressure to look after
itself that he might have an unhampered course in the asserting of
himself. He invaded immediately all the dances, carnivals, dinners and
parties. He was both Liberal and Conservative in politics. He was the
"guy" with the "big mitt" and the vociferous vocabulary at all the local
functions. He even joined the church. He tumbled into popularity as
quickly as the Kaiser tumbled into the European war; and he elbowed his
way into the run-way for all offices. Previously bright stars were
dimmed by the brilliancy of his superior luminosity. He became a
parasite at the local stores and clubs, and was a wart on the grocer's
counter. He became a whirlwind of popularity. He was as much in the
advance as he had before been in the rear, and, if there was any German
trench to take, he was always first to jump into it. He had the big
voice in every local eruption. Every time he batted he made a home run.
He even made initiative suggestions for schemes which were more or less
amalgamated with reason and insanity. It is said that he was first at
the dances, and first in the hearts of the ladies. It is certain he was
the first to invent the sewerage system idea; and the patents were
applied for before the final endorsements had been secured.

"I will make the man swallow his words who awarded me that booby prize,"
he thundered; and he was going the right way about it. He imposed his
individuality with emphasis. He was taken by the hand and dragged along
cheerfully. He found himself coveted and envied now, where, before, he
had almost been denied citizenship. He was now a qualified voter, where,
before, he had been disfranchised. He found himself in the front ranks
of all social movements, for he had asserted himself with an accent. It
was a case of applied personality with him, and it was developing just
as he had anticipated. Of course it was a superficial personality; it
had no intrinsic value, but it answered the purpose. He received many
important appointments. He was created secretary to the School Board,
secretary to the Ashcroft Rinks, secretary to the Hospital, secretary
to the Ashcroft Hockey boys, secretary to the Ladies' Knitting Guild,
secretary to the Ladies' Auxiliary. In fact, he was unanimously chosen
an official in all the local public works which had no salary attached
to them. But then, he was gaining in popularity, and what did it matter
if his office was filled to overflowing with exotic paraphernalia, he
was reaching that apex to which he had aspired, and the emolument was a
mere bagatelle. The booby prize, after all, had been the foundation of
his success.

So things went on and he became the most talked of man in the town. When
any difficulty arose he was the first to be consulted. The town found it
necessary to come to him for information on every local scheme that had
its birth in the local cerebrum, for no one else was capable of handling
any emergency and carrying it through to a successful conclusion.

Just about this time the sewerage epidemic took possession of the town,
and became an insane contagion. Meetings were held at various places to
discuss the matter, and at last the government agent allowed the court
house to be used gratis for that purpose. Of course our hero and two
other victims were appointed commissioners to investigate. His salary
was the same as he received from his various secretaryships.

It was proposed to mortgage the town for forty years to the provincial
government for its endorsement to local bonds, and the commissioners
were empowered to have the alleys and necessary places surveyed with a
view to ascertaining the magnitude of the undertaking, and the amount of
the collateral which it would be necessary to raise in England, upon the
endorsed bonds, to push the work through to a successful conclusion. The
victims set to work with full knowledge of the stupendous responsibility
which had been slung, yoke-like, across their shoulders. Surveyors were
engaged, and an expert calculator was summoned to give an estimate of
the cost of such an undertaking. The estimate was placed at $75,000.00.
This enlightenment gave the community a volcanic eruption; an epidemic
of "cold feet" took possession of them, and they retired to warm these
extremities at their respective air-tight heaters. In the meantime the
commissioners had guaranteed payment to the experts whom they had
engaged, and their personal notes were urgently requested. The expenses
which they had incurred amounted to about five hundred dollars. When the
vouchers were hawked about town for endorsements they received the "high
ball," and the victims found it necessary to "make good" from their
personal rainy day deposits. The unpopular man took a sly glance back at
the ancient happy hunting-grounds antedating his booby prize days.

It was just about this time that an agent of the Independent Trust
Company drifted into town "incidentally," and became acquainted with the
boys. He made it known in a sort of casual way that he was disposing of
shares in the said company, which were valued at more than they were
worth--that is, were worth more than their valuation. To keep up the
"bluff" the unpopular man bought a thousand "plunks" worth of shares.

"Now," said the shark, "since you have shown so much confidence in my
company by purchasing shares, you can prove your patriotism more fully
by placing a substantial deposit with the Independent Trust. This will
help maintain the company on solid footing, and ensure you higher
dividends on your stock. I will give you my personal guarantee that your
money will be safer, and more productive than it would be in the Bank."

The "boob" seized the bait like a trout in the Bonaparte, and made a
deposit of five thousand dollars. Shortly afterwards the company went
into liquidation, and his six thousand dollars sailed away with the
worthless liquid into the sea of oblivion.

About this same time, when his popularity was at its zenith, and was
rivalling that of Dr. Cook, the fake discoverer of the North Pole,
another shark came down with the rain selling the most marvellous
money-making scheme ever offered to the public of British Columbia. This
was X.Y.Z. Fire Insurance shares, which he was disposing of at a great
sacrifice.

"Let me sell you some shares in the only 'real thing' that has been
offered to the public since the flood," he tempted.

The victim was so much under the shark's influence that he was
hypnotized.

"Certainly," he said. "Write me down for five hundred 'doughbaby's'
worth."

"You mean a thousand," said the shark.

"No," said the "gink," timidly, "I have only five hundred in my sock;
that will be as much as my pack will carry."

"Exactly; that is just right. You see, you are buying a thousand dollars
worth of goods with only five hundred dollars worth of cash. The shares
are fifty dollars each, with a cash payment of twenty-five dollars, and
the balance subject to call. This balance will never be called for,
because on no occasion has an insurance company been known to call in
its balance of subscribed stock; and the X.Y.Z. is not going to
establish a precedent in this respect. You will have twenty shares for
five hundred dollars. In other words, you will draw interest on one
thousand dollars, and only have five hundred invested. Was ever a
business so philanthropic in its foundation?"

Our hero grabbed the bait like a pure-bred sucker, and handed out his
last asset.

A few weeks later the company was in the hands of receivers with all its
assets vaporized. The popular man found himself on the "rocks." Being
popular for a short time had proved a very expensive expedition for him.
The retreat rivalled that of the Kaiser's retreat from Paris. It was so
sudden that the town heard the thud and felt the jar. The unpopular man
realized that it is wiser to remain in one's natural element even if it
is necessary to sacrifice many of the first prizes. Perhaps it is
better to go after the prizes for which we are qualified, than to aspire
to elevations which we are unable to hold intelligently.

The unpopular man backed himself up into his burrow, and for a time the
silence around town was embarrassing.

Of Hard Times Hance

Once upon a time on the foothills in the environs of Clinton, Lillooet
District, Province of British Columbia, there lived a "mossback" who was
as happy as the 22nd day of June is long in each year. At initiative
conclusions he would be classified with the freak species of humanity,
but beneath his raw exterior there lurked rich mines which the moss kept
a secret from the inquisitive, avaricious world.

He owned and operated an extensive ranch from which he encouraged enough
vegetation to feed himself, his pigs, his horses, his cattle, his
chickens, and his dog; and this, apparently, was all they derived from
the great, green earth. But the asset side of our "mossback's" yearly
balance sheet always made the liability side ashamed of itself. The
asset increased annually, and the hidden treasure grew to alarming
proportions. This growth was carefully salted away at the appropriate
salting-down season, when the pork barrels were brought out of the dark
cellars, dusted, scrubbed, and refilled with the carcasses of those
animals which had been his companions for the greater part of a year. He
was a standing joke with the "hands" on the ranch, for he was the most
dilapidated of the whole gang, although the owner, and was reputed to be
wealthy.

But he was a man with a purpose in life, and that was more than a great
many could say. He was chronically eccentric. When he first located on
the homestead which had since become so valuable an asset, he had
determined to live with one purpose in view, and that was to expand
financially with the toil of his hands and the sweat of his brow, and
then, when he had acquired sufficient sinking fund, to emerge suddenly
into the limelight of society and shine like a newly polished gem. So he
wandered up and down the trail which his own feet and the feet of his
cayuse had worn through the woods, up the creek, along the face of the
mountains, and away down to the limy waters of the Fraser on the other
side of the perpetual snows.

There was a fascination for him on this old trail; it had become as part
of his life, of his very soul. Sometimes he would be rounding up cattle.
Sometimes he would be hunting mowich (deer), or driving off the coyotes.
All his plans and schemes were built on trail foundation. He could not
think unless he was tramping the trail through the woods, and down the
valleys. Here is where all his castles were constructed; and, from the
trail observatory, he saw his new life spring into being, when the time
would be ripe.

In time the coin grew so bulky that it became a burden to him. It had
grown very cumbersome. He might at any time resurrect himself into that
new world of his, but there was no occasion for haste; he was very happy
and contented; besides, it would mean leaving the old trail and things.
He had his balance banked in a strong box which he buried in a hole
under his bed, and the fear grew upon him that some mercenary might
discover its lurking-place and relieve him of the burden of
responsibility. This was the only skeleton which lurked in the man's
closet. It was the only cloud in his sky; the rest of the zenith was
sunshine and gladness. To the neighbors and itineraries he had been
preaching hard times for twenty years, although the whole earth
suspected the contrary. He became known throughout the width and breadth
of Yale, Lillooet and Cariboo as "Hard Times Hance." Although
diplomatically reserved and unsociable, he was more popular and famed
than he suspected. Peculiarity is a valuable advertisement.

His outward appearance and mode of life certainly justified the above
appendix to his personality, and it was so blazoned that it could be
seen and heard all over British Columbia. He had but one competitor, and
that was "Dirty Harry," who at one time frequented the streets of
Ashcroft. No other name could have distinguished him so completely from
the other members of the human family.

His overalls, which were once blue, had become pale with age, and had
adopted a dishrag-white color; and one of the original legs had been
patched out of existence. His Stetson hat, which had left the factory a
deep brown, now approached the color of his terrestrial real estate. His
"jumper" had lost its blue and white "jail bird" stripe effect, and was
now a cross between a faded Brussels carpet and a grain sack. To save
buying boots he wore his last winter's overshoes away into the summer,
while his feet would blister in discomfort. Braces were a luxury which
he could not endure, so he supported his superfluously laundried
overalls with a strand of baling-rope which had already served its time
as a halter guy. His feet had never known the luxury of a factory or
home-knitted stocking since he had graduated from the home crib, but
were put off with gunny sacking which had already seen active service as
nose bags for the cayuses.

"If one wishes to acquire wealth in this world," he would say, "one must
make a great many personal sacrifices." So he lived on and waxed wealthy
at the expense even of the simplest of domestic comforts.

The improvements with which he had enhanced the value of his ranch were
much in keeping with his personal appearance, and they could be
recognized as brothers with the least difficulty. The fences, which had
refused to retain their youth against the passing years, had their aged
and feeble limbs supported with thongs and makeshifts of every
description; and where their pride had rebelled against such
ingratitude, they were smothered beneath the limbs of fallen trees,
which had been felled on the spot to serve as substitutes. His flumes
were knock-kneed and bow-legged, and in places they had no legs at all.
Their sides were warped and bulged with the alternate damp and drouth,
heat and cold. The lumber was bleached white, and porous with decay. It
was with difficulty they could be persuaded to remain at their
water-carrying capacity. The ditches were choked with willows and maples
to such an extent that they were abandoned only in spots where they
asserted themselves, and refused to convey the necessary irrigation
stream. Here they would burst their sides with indignation, and had to
be repaired. The barns, stables and chicken-houses had for years been
threatening to collapse unless supplied with some stimulant; so numerous
false-works had been erected, outside and in, to retain them within
their confines. The harness, which had originally been made of leather,
betrayed very little trace of this bovine enveloper, but was composed
chiefly of baling-rope and wire which had been picked up at random on
the ranch as the occasion demanded. The various sections of the wheels
of his wagons remained in intimate association with each other because
they were submerged in the creek every night; the moisture keeping the
wood swelled to its greatest diameter. One day's exposure to the drouth,
without the convenient assistance of the creek water, would have been
sufficient to cause the wheels to fall asunder. In this respect the
unsuspecting creek was an asset of incalculable value. The boxes of his
wagons could boast of nothing up to date, that was not possessed by the
wheels; and in many cases the tongues and whiffletrees and neck-yokes
had been substituted by raw maples or birch secured on the ranch. His
unwritten law was to buy nothing that would cost money, and to import
nothing that could be produced on the farm even if it was only a poor
makeshift substitute. No part was ever replaced until it had gone
hopelessly on strike, and necessity was his only motive power when it
came to repairs. The general conditions were suggestive of the obsolete.

In the midst of all this ruin and decay, however, there was sunshine,
and the heart of Hard Times Hance was warm and buoyant, cheerful and
hopeful, and even if he did live upon the husks which the swine did eat,
he derived from his life a great deal more pleasure than the world gave
him credit for. He had his future to live for. He had his life all
mapped out, and that was more than a great many could boast of. For
breakfast he had mush, for dinner he had beans and bacon, and for supper
he had bacon and beans and Y.S. tea. And he was just as happy eating
this fare with his knife as the Lieutenant-Governor of the Province of
British Columbia could be with his cereal, consomme, lobster salad,
charlotte russe, blanc mange, cafe noir, or any other dainty and
delicate importation. Bananas, oranges and artichokes had no place on
his bill-of-fare. Besides, after he had eaten a meal he had no space for
such delicacies. And he could always wash his meal down with the famous
Y.S. tea stand-by; and, on top of this, a few long draws at his
kin-i-kin-nick (sort of Indian tobacco) pipe. And then there were no
restrictions upon his mode of feeding his face. He could eat with his
knife with impunity. There was no etiquette-mad society digging him in
the ribs, and jerking on the reins in protestation at every one of his
natural inclinations; and he could use his own knife to butter his
sourdough bread. For a man who expected to emerge into the sunshine of
society, he was giving himself very inadequate training. He was as near
the aboriginal as it was possible for a white man to approach. He was a
Siwash (male Indian) with one exception--his love of the coin. But then,
he had an object in this ambition; and a fault, if it is a means to a
worthy end, must be commended. He had this propensity developed to the
most pronounced degree. It was a disease with him, for which there was
no cure. In outward appearance he was a typical B.C. specimen of the
obsolete "coureur de bois" of eastern Canada during the seventeenth
century.

The interior of his "dug-out" was more like an Indian kik-willy (ancient
Indian house) than the dwelling of a modern Anglo-Saxon. The walls were
composed of the rough timbers, and the chinks were stuffed with rags and
old newspapers. A few smoke-begrimed pictures were hanging on the walls,
and a calendar of the year 1881 still glared forth in all its ancient
uselessness, leading one back into a past decade. If he broke the rules
of etiquette by eating with his knife, he also smashed those of modesty
by utilizing his air-tight heater as a cuspidor, for it was streaked
white with evaporated saliva.

How this crude bud ever anticipated blooming out into a society blossom
was a conundrum. Perhaps he had some secret method buried in the same
box with his hoarded coin. His long evenings were passed reading the
_Family Herald and Weekly Star_ and the _Ashcroft Journal_ by
candle-light; for those were the only papers he would subscribe for. His
bed consisted of, first, boards, then straw, then sacking; and it had
remained so long without being frayed out that it had become packed as
hard as terra firma. His blankets had not seen the light of day, nor
enjoyed the fresh cool breezes for many long years. His one window was
opaque with the smoke of many years' accumulation. Although his chickens
had a coop of their own where they roosted at night, they ran about the
floor of his "dug-out" in the daytime looking for crumbs that fell from
the poor man's table; and his cat, through years of criminal impunity,
would sit on the table at mealtime and help himself to the victuals just
as the spirit moved him. A stump had been left standing when the cabin
was built; it had been hewn at the appropriate elevation of a chair.
This was near his air-tight heater, and his favorite position was to sit
there with his feet propped against the stove and smoke by candle-light;
and sometimes he would sit in the dark to save candles. His other
furniture consisted of "Reindeer" brand condensed milk and blue-mottled
soap boxes, which he had acquired at times from F.W. Foster's general
store at Clinton.

Hard Times Hance was living on first principles; but then, if a man
wishes to save any coin in this world he must make great personal
sacrifices; and so he was perfectly happy in his temporary aboriginal
condition. There were no restrictions upon him. He was even outside the
circumference of any ministerial jurisdiction, and had never been
cautioned about the hereafter. Like an Indian, he moved just as the
impulse seized him. How this man expected to submit to the personal
restrictions and embargoes imposed by modern fashions and society was
known only to himself. The song of the forest had been his only concert;
the whisper of the creek his sole heart companion. When occasion
permitted he would wander the entire day on the high mountains, at the
end of his trail, hunting for game, and little caring whether he found
it or not, so long as he had the wild and congenial environs to admire
and embrace. What was city life in comparison with this?

At last the day arrived when he realized that he must develop wings, so
he wrapped himself up in a cocoon; and while the metamorphosis was in
process of development he had ample time to study Hamlet's soliloquy. It
would mean a divorce from everything he held dear; a parting with his
very soul. It would mean the most sorrowful widowhood that could be
imposed on man. It would be equivalent to leaving this earth and taking
up his abode in Mars. He must sacrifice his love for the creek and the
trail. He must renounce his freedom and go into social slavery. It was
the emerging from the woods into the prairie; the coming from darkness
into the light; a resurrection from the dead. In future he must tread
the smooth cement walk between cultivated lawns and plants, instead of
climbing the rude, uneven trail obstructed by fallen trees and
surrounded with vegetation in its wildest and most primeval forms. He
would walk the polished mahogany floor with patent boots, instead of
the terrestrial one of his dug-out with obsolete overshoes.

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