If a theatre be in action and mayhap a troop of “Red Stocking Blondes,” elevating the drama therein, the cowboy is sure to attend.  Also he will arrive with his lariat wound about his body under his coat; and his place will be the front row.  At some engaging crisis, such as the “March of the Amazons,” having first privily unwound and organised his lariat to that end, he will arise and “rope” an Amazon.  This will produce bad language from the manager of the show, and compel the lady to sit upon the stage to the detriment of her wardrobe if no worse, and all to keep from being pulled across the footlights.  Yet the exercise gives the cowboy deepest pleasure.  Having thus distinguished the lady of his admiration, later he will meet her and escort her to the local dancehall.  There, mingling with their frank companions, the two will drink, and loosen the boards of the floor with the strenuous dances of our frontier till daylight does appear.

For the matter of a week, or perchance two—­it depends on how fast his money melts—­in these fashions will our gentleman of cows engage his hours and expand himself.  He will make a deal of noise, drink a deal of whiskey, acquire a deal of what he terms “action”; but he harms nobody, and, in a town toughened to his racket and which needs and gets his money, disturbs nobody.

“Let him whoop it up; he’s paying for it, ain’t he?” will be the prompt local retort to any inquiry as to why he is thus permitted to disport.

So long as the cowboy observes the etiquette of the town, he will not be molested or “called down” by marshal or sheriff or citizen.  There are four things your cowboy must not do.  He must not insult a woman; he must not shoot his pistol in a store or bar-room; he must not ride his pony into those places of resort; and as a last proposal he must not ride his pony on the sidewalks.  Shooting or riding into bar-rooms is reckoned as dangerous; riding on the sidewalk comes more under the head of insult, and is popularly regarded as a taunting defiance of the town marshal.  On such occasions the marshal never fails to respond, and the cowboy is called upon to surrender.  If he complies, which to the credit of his horse-sense he commonly does, he is led into brief captivity to be made loose when cooled.  Does he resist arrest, there is an explosive rattle of six shooters, a mad scattering of the careful citizenry out of lines of fire, and a cowboy or marshal is added to the host beyond.  At the close of the festival, if the marshal still lives he is congratulated; if the cowboy survives he is lynched; if both fall, they are buried with the honours of frontier war; while whatever the event, the communal ripple is but slight and only of the moment, following which the currents of Western existence sweep easily and calmly onward as before.

    A. H. L.

WOLFVILLE NIGHTS

CHAPTER I.