Do you remember "Jim Bludso of the 'Prairie Belle'"?
_He weren't no saint--them engineers Is pretty much all alike-- One wife in Natchez-under-the-Hill And another one here in Pike._
We can show you "the willer-bank on the right," where Bludso ran the 'Prairie Belle' aground and made good with his life his old promise:
_I'll hold her nozzle agin the bank Till the last galoot's ashore._
We can also show you the home of Champ Clark, and the largest nursery in the world, and a meadow where, twenty-five years ago, a young fellow threw down his hayfork and said to his companion: "Sam, I'm going to town to study law with Champ Clark. Some day I'm going to be Governor of this State." He was Elliott W. Major, and he is Governor to-day.
The promise held forth by this letter appealed to me. It is always interesting to see whether a man like Champ Clark lives in a house with ornamental iron fences on the roof and iron urns in the front yard; likewise there is a sort of fascination for a man of my extensive ignorance, in hearing not merely how the Governor of Missouri decided to become Governor, but in finding out his name. Then those hams and capons--how many politicians can compare for interest with a tender capon or a fine old country ham? And perhaps more alluring to me than any of these was the idea of going to visit in a strange State, and a strange town, and a strange house--the house of a total stranger.
Our host met us with his touring car and proceeded to make good his promises about the nursery, and the scenery, and the roads, and the estates, and as we bowled along he told us about "Pike." It is indeed a great county. And the fact that it was originally settled by Virginians, Kentuckians, and Carolinians still stamps it strongly with the qualities of the South. Though north of St. Louis on the map, it is south of St. Louis in its spirit. Indeed, Louisiana is the most Southern town in appearance and feeling that we visited upon our travels. The broad black felt hats one sees about the streets, the luxuriant mustaches and goatees--all these things mark the town, and if they are not enough, you should see "Indy" Gordon as she walks along puffing at a bulldog pipe black as her own face.