Cowboy Pat

It was during my teaching year on a Wyoming homestead that I became acquainted with Pat.  He was definitely not the type of person a young teacher would consider her ‘dream boat’, but he was well behaved and more than willing to serve as an escort.  The teacher who lived at the next school knew him from the previous year.

When Miss Van developed a chest cold and really needed a caring companion, Pat was there and rubbed some Mentholatum on her chest.  He felt it was neighborly, Im sure.

When Pat was in our area he made himself useful by getting in the kindling for our stoves or supplying water.  In addition he often had some interesting news.  We had no telephones or newspapers so we were eager to know about the other teachers and their families.

At times Pat used a wrong word in expressing his opinions.  I was really impressed when he spoke of ‘compensition’ while meaning competition.

I have no knowledge of Pat’s home base, but in that Godforsaken no man’s land we were pleased to have him as a friend.  I trust that somewhere there was a haven for that well meaning, but unpolished member of the human race.

Neighbor Ananias

No doubt the fellow had a proper name yet in our home be bore the unenviable name of Ananias.  Undoubtedly he had earned that name because of versions of the truth, entertaining though they were.  That natural ability made him a welcome visitor in our farm home.

The man’s work in a slaughter house located three quarters of a mile away allowed him to acquire from time to time some small knife or other tool that he kindly offered to my mother.  She felt some uncertainty  about accepting these ‘maybe’ gifts.  Possibly she offered some small item in return.

When one of her daughters became quarantined with a case of Scarlet Fever, Ananias appeared with a copy of the Sunday comic’s and a magazine or two.  He valued our good opinion, and we saw no harm in showing friendship.  We hoped he would not intrude on our neighborliness.

Cowboys and other Interesting Characters

Henry was a sometime occupant of a tiny cabin at Glenrulac, the mountain ranch where I boarded in the early thirties while teaching.  My landlord was the president of the school board and needed transportation for his six year old daughter.  Glenrulac was a lovely spot among Boxelder trees fed by a warm stream.

Henry had served as an Aide-de-camp during one of the wars and when present he was an asset to the establishment.  Fuel for the fireplace which heated the living area was constantly needed, snow had to be cleared away, and garbage needed disposal.  Potatoes needed to be dug and stored and milk was brought from the farm three-fourths of a mile down stream.

Henry was quiet, obliging, and trustworthy.  Two or three of his fingers had been injured, but he was an accomplished handler of some “Bones” at various country dances.  When he was “away” for such events we missed him.

His private domain was a small log building just beyond the clothes lines.  It was so convenient to be able to call on Henry for errands and a bit of odd jobs.  The lighting system was supplied with power from the upper falls.  He understood it and its eccentricities.  There were times when the mail would need to be picked up two miles below the ranch house.  And then three year old Lynette was a very independent young miss whom everyone was aware might fall from the foot bridge while watching the shiny fish below.  Henry would have found tasks to perform near by.  He felt needed and appreciated.

As Mr. Wilder, the owner of the property became more helpless and dependent, I’ve no doubt that Henry kept a close watch on the man whom he respected.  And when the ‘end’ came it was Henry who found is superior officer lying on the floor of his ranch home.