Deadwood Dicks Doom | Page 8

shoot ye on ther spot.
Ye perseeve we're old business, we daisies o' Death Notch; when a
mule gits balky we allus drap him wi'out any prelima'ary parley;
thatfore, we allow thet ef ye edify us wi' a few songs, an' the nigger, too,
yer safety will be an assured fact, an' ef ye don't, we'll hev ter speck fer
a parson ter preech yer funeral sermon, ter-morrer."
"Oh! Nic, what shall we do?" Miss Verner said, turning to the darky,
pale and trembling.

"What shall we do?"
"'Spec's de bestest t'ing we can do is to gub 'em some music, rather dan
git de top of our heads blowed off. Bress dis yar Chile ef he's qwine to
git in trouble when de banjo will git him out. Jos' you git youh gittar,
Miss Virgie, an' I'se a raccoon if we can't stir 'em up."
"Perhaps you are right, Nic, but I wish we had never come here!" the
girl said, as she procured a handsome guitar from her trunk, and then
she and the darky, who was armed with a banjo, followed the
bullwhacker down the stairs into the crowded bar-room.
A loud cheer greeted their advent, from the ruffian assemblage among
whom were many of the most bold and lawless desperadoes on the
border-men who had waded in crime and ruffianism all their lives, and
had lost all sense of manliness or feeling, further than for their own
gratification.
"Hyar' ther stage, mum!" Shakespeare said, indicating the bar counter.
"Shall I help ye up?"
"You need not trouble yourself," Virgie replied, stepping upon a chair,
thence upon a table, and then to the bar, where three chairs had been
placed.
Nicodemus followed, and likewise the bullwhacker Shakespeare, who
had evidently assumed the self-appointed position of master of
ceremonies, for he arose when the two singers were seated, and glanced
his audience over, with an important "ahem!" as if to call attention to
the fact that he was the central figure of the forthcoming entertainment.
"Feller citerzens," he began, "this is an awe-inspiring and sublime
occasion, when with swelling bosom of pride, I am enabled to present
for your approval ther stars of two countries, Europe and Africa,
consolerdated inter one stupendous aggravation. Et does me proud, my
noble pack o' guzzlers, ter represent this great phalanx o' talent, and in
commemoration o' this great occasion my poetical brain hat conceived
a versical offering, which I beg leave ter precipitate at ye, as a prelude

o' ther cat-wattling immediately ter foller. Et is entitled 'Ther B'iled
Shirt,' an' was founded on true incerdents."
Then clearing big threat, the bullwhacker laid one hand dramatically
across his breast and began
"Et war six years ago ter-day
When Deadwood, furst, thar struck,
A tender-fut from Jarsey Cit',
Togged out in spotless duck.
Oh! ye bet he war a gallus pill!
But ov money, run a-muck!
He waltzed inter ther' Flush,' ker-slap-
Ther Flask 'war squar' fer deal,
Tho' that war sum who sed that Pete
War up ter sundry steal.
But I could never quite believe,
Thet Pete would stoop ter 'feel.'
Down by their board ther 'tender' sat;
I see'd 'twer desprit in his eye,
As on his snow-flake kids he spat
An' sed -- Wi' me it's rocks or -- die!'
An' tho' no pig-tail cuss war he

I thort o' poor Bill Nye.
Sez he ter Pete -- his words war low
Old Pards, I'm broke -- I hev no "dirt;"
But I'm so dry-give me a show
Jest, go a V. agin' my shirt
Et's b'iled an' clean, so don't be mean;
Ter lose et, would my feelin's hurt.'
The keerds was split upon ther 'put'
An' dealt-the tender he war low,
Fer Pete he held an orful hand,
An' scooped his jags o' ev'ry show,
He raked a trick
Fer every throw.
We laid the tender-fut ter rest;
O' arsenic he'd tuck a bowl;
He lost ther b'iled shirt from his breast,
An' then hed sought another goal.
We did ther 'white,' ye see, at best-
We chucked him in a 'prospect hole!'"
A tremendous cheer greeted the conclusion of the bullwhacker's
recitation, for the sentiment of the rude effusion hit the rough audience

in a tender spot. Any man guilty of wearing a b'iled shirt had no
sympathy from them, no matter what his troubles.
"Now we'll hear from the nigger!" Shakespeare said, jumping down
from his counter, among the crowd. "After ther nigger, the gal."
"I'se no niggah, sah!" Nicodemus retorted, arising and glaring down at
his audience. "I'se Nicodemus Johnsing a cullud gentleman."
This elicited a roar of laughter, but when the darky took hold of the
banjo and began to pound it in a wonderfully scientific manner,
accompanying the music with burlesque songs, he held his