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Family History Stories Paraphrased
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Mrs. Cobb and Others Sidney L. Prager Indian Slavery L. A. Brown Tales of the Moccasin Maker

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Mrs. Cobb, Mrs. Wroth, Mr. And Mrs. Frost Mrs. Goodrich
By Mrs. A. P. Keith
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Valencia
Surnames mentioned: Cobb, Frost, Goodrich, Grundman, Easterday, Wells, Stover, Keen, Burg, Otero, Baron, Turner, Romero, Neddleton, Warren, Armigo, Otero, Donley, Fall, Putney

Fortunately we have some of the older business men left. Fortunately we have some of the women of other days left here, and I would like to pay tribute to such women such as Mrs. Cobb, photographer, Mrs. Wroth, once President of the Women's Club, to Mr. and Mrs. George Frost to Mr. and Mrs. Alfred Goodrich, to the late Rufus Goodrich who was for years employed by Arthur G. Wells, Vice President of the Santa Fe Railway. Albuquerque owes much to Arthur G. Wells, to Mrs. Louise Grundman, whom I have mentioned, to Mr. and Mrs. John Baron Burg, the late Governor Elias Stover, Mr. A. A. Keen, Grand Secretary of the Masonic Bodies of New Mexico, to Dr. George Easterday, to the late Dr. Jake Easterday.

Speaking of the kindness of Dr. George Easterday to the native people, I would like to mention an incident I witnessed in his office one time. Dr. George Easterday was nominated for Mayor of Albuquerque. There were so many poor natives here who needed medical treatment that Dr. Easterday gave this and just took it as one more good deed served to humanity. We all know what politics mean, so that when Dr. George Easterday was nominated he found a man he had been very kind to, who opposed him, Easterday had doctored his whole family. This man had been hired by the opposing party to work against Easterday, and I will say that it was money wasted. For there was hardly a man who could have voted against Dr. George Easterday and dared go home after having done so. The writer happened to be in the office just as this native was leaving who was all for Easterday's election. Dr. George Easterday said, Now look here, Jose, I haven't got time to fool with this man, when I have taken such good care of his family and charged him nothing, and he is working against me. I am going to give him a lesson he will not forget. I want you to watch him when he goes home. Go and give him the worst beating he ever had in his life, then come for me. I will plaster him up, and make him comfortable. He asked the native, Do you think you can do this? The native replied, Si. Doctor George Easterday handed him a $10.00 bill. Here's $10.00 for your trouble, and I will take care of the other fellow's bruises, and I will pay the fine for you if you get arrested. Come back tomorrow, and report to me. The native was just going out, but he stuck his head into the office door saying, say, Doc, do you want me to kill him? Dr. Easterday said, Oh, my God, don't kill him, don't hurt him very bad, just beat him up. Then call me, and I will attend to his wounds and tell him how he got that.

In regard to Art In Albuquerque, the outstanding pictures of the natives, which portray the actual surroundings their homes, and religious sentiment are best pictures by the paintings of Esquipula Romero, who until recently maintained his own art gallery in the 1500 block on W. Central. The building containing these pictures was designed and constructed by Mr. Romero himself. Mr. Romero has traveled through Europe studied with many famous artists, but after all art and music are a gift, and cannot be taught unless one is inspired to do the work. Mr. Romero's paintings show that his work is inspirational as I have seen pictures that he painted long before he ever became a pupil of some of the Easters, and I truly believe that one who possesses by birth an artistic nature often gives as much to a trained teacher as a teacher gives to the pupil.

Speaking of art in Albuquerque, there are many who have contributed to this work, who have passed as ships in the night, and I know of no one who is more worthy of mention than the first wife of M. C. Neddleton. But at her death her pictures were taken out of New Mexico, and such has been the fate of many beautiful paintings that at one time adorned the walls of the homes in Albuquerque.

The home of Judge Warren, in the 100 block N. Fourteenth Street is still a beautiful residence, owned by a prominent citizen, and at the time of his death there were many beautiful paintings in his home. These, too, were sent to relatives and friends, and Albuquerque no longer owns them. It is my privilege to write of one artist in Albuquerque that few people have thoroughly recognized because of his youth. This boy is young Ben Turner. Of all artists through New Mexico, there is no one who has the ancestral background that young Ben Turner has, but before I took this matter up I don't think anyone knew that he was a great nephew of the famous J. M. W. Turner whose pictures are listed and exhibited in many art galleries of Europe and America. Young Turner has never had a lesson in his life, but his pictures show the beauty, the love, the passion of a matured artist.

Among beautiful paintings that are in Albuquerque, no place can surpass the paintings that hang in St. Vincent Academy. One is as I can recall, about 6' x 9'. This hangs in the Chapel and was painted by sister Ernestine, an artist of great repute now. Most artists of new Mexico insist on putting on all the red they can put into the sunsets of New Mexico, but we people who have lived here so long have seen many solemn sunsets with no trace of the gorgeous red that make up the usual line of new artists for the newcomers of Albuquerque. We who have lingered long and have waited and are still waiting have seen the sunset on the Rio Grande with nothing but an outline of the Rio Grande. These paintings, to my notice, are more quieting. At certain times of the year the sunset on the Sandias, is the sun is shining just as it should, we get a view that equals the Alpine Glow. At about 5 in the evening we see the sun shining brightly on the Sandias, then it suddenly changes to a pale pale pink. In a flash is a touch of Aber just for a second or two, then a deep amethyst. This is the whole view of the Sandias. It lasts only for a short space of time.

To the west the sun sinks behind the volcanoes and just as dusk comes on the mountains take on a sullen gray. Night has come. Stars are set and these we look on as our forget-me-not friends. If it is a full moon, then the Valley is beautiful to look on. There are many such scenes pictured of Albuquerque, but those just hitting the high spots they never see them, and here it well to quote the old adage that often in a wooden house a golden room you'll find.

There are so many of these treasure paintings that I know of, but circumstances are such that I cannot go to look for them and place them just now. Most famous pictures brought here in the very early days were brought here by the great grandfather of Mrs. John Baron Burg, who was a daughter of Mariano Otero, and mentioning Mariano Otero I will say that in the original settling of New Mexico there were only five genuine Spanish Castilian families that came in. Among theses were the ancestors of Mrs. John Baron Burg. I know of no one who is more deserving of kindly mention than John Baron Burg and his wife. Mrs. Burg paints portraits, and her work is indeed worthwhile.

I know of these treasures because I have taught among the natives. They have shown me these things they have packed away in trunks some are beautiful relics of Old Spain and when I ask them why do you keep those things concealed, they tell me, Oh, the Americans do not care what we Mexicans treasure, so we just keep them to ourselves, and I consider myself fortunate indeed that I have been taken into the confidence of these native people. There are times when I have wanted material for pageantry or other things my work called for, it has been a great pleasure to have some native woman unlock a trunk and lift out silver boxes containing articles preciously packed away form inquisitive eyes of the Gringe. To us Americans often speaking of the natives as the Greasers they return the compliment by calling Americans Gringos. The way this name Greaser happened to be applied to the natives was in the early days men like Perfecto Armigo, Mariano Otero and many others had to have their goods shipped from St. Louis or the City of Mexico by ox wagon teams. At certain intervals the team and the men were supposed to rest while food was prepared for them. When they arrived at this place, there would be a certain number of natives who were there ready with the grease pots to grease the wagon wheels, so that they might proceed against the danger of breaking down. As soon as the drivers would see the men arriving they would greet them with the usual expression of: Here are the 'greasers', and the Greasers vigorously applied the grease to the creaking old wagon that was bringing into Albuquerque gorgeous silks and satins, dainty foods that could not be found here, in fact every commodity that could be brought from Mexico of the East.

These five wealthy Spanish families brought to Albuquerque, by the means I have just mentioned, all the luxuries that eastern cities could afford, and many things from Old Mexico that no eastern city could supply. So we must remember that among the genuine Castilians we have many of their descendants who were truly born to the purple. There is one old story of the two Mexican men with one nickel, driving between Albuquerque and Santa Fe. Anyone can hear the story by asking the well read natives, but it is too long for me to give in this article.

There the Y. M. C. A. now stands was the wholesale house of the father of Bob Putney. The Albuquerque climate was different in those days, and the long porch was extended all around the Putney Wholesale House, and this was where the Indians would spread their blankets at night and dozens of them would sleep there, and no questions were asked. The ox teams coming in from the East or the West were driven on the Putney ground, the yoke removed from their necks, the tired oxen laid down to sleep, and the goods packed in the wagons were perfectly safe, and were eagerly unpacked the following morning.

This is part of what Albuquerque used to be. Now a fellow can't leave his overcoat in his car to buy a cigar and return to find his overcoat in the car. Oh, Rome, Rome, there was a time when one could write. Rome, you has been a tender nurse to me, but the civilization took out of the Indian his honesty. The natives have taken on every bad trait the Americans brought in, and if the Americans did bring in any good traits the natives certainly never took them up.

Almost everyone living here now is familiar with Honeymoon Row. The name was much unsuited to this location, but who knows just where Lovers' Lane is located in Albuquerque? I will tell you. It is in a little stretch of land located between what is the pathway leading from what was the Judge Warren home along the bank that leads out to the Old Town Courthouse. It has been said that is to be open soon with cars going clear through from the corner of Fourteenth Street into Old Town. Whether this is true or not, I would not say and neither do I think anyone else knows, but I do know that this was a pretty stretch of ground at one time and the only real romantic place I know of in Albuquerque is the property of Judge Warren, which joined the property of 1429 W. Central Avenue. Judge was a wealthy man.

It was in his home that Albert Bacon Fall spent much of his time as he would come and go to Albuquerque. When I was a very small child, Albert Bacon Fall taught me my English alphabet, as I sat on his knee and recited my ABC's. This was in Kentucky. My Mother taught Albert Bacon Fall the Greek alphabet. I presume he has forgotten this, and yet I think he hardly could. to my notion, Albert Bacon Fall has not only been prosecuted, I think he was persecuted and no Court will ever make me believe he was guilty, and I think he has shown what manhood really is because in my mind he will die without telling anything that will throw light on his own innocence.

Major Donley was sent from Washington, D. C., to Albuquerque. For a time he rented the house at 1429 W. Central Avenue, which joined the Warren property. This is how this stretch of ground just back of this property got the name of Lovers' Lane, and that was only known to a few people. Paul Warren was the only son of Judge Warren, a dashing youth with dark eyes and dark hair. He rode a Kentucky thoroughbred horse, and it is little wonder that the only daughter of Major Donley, whose name was Belle, should fall in love with such as he was at the time she met him. This little stretch of ground was Lovers' Tryst for these young people. The interest is the Kentucky thoroughbred was a good excuse for mutual interest, which one may know soon ripened into a desperate love affair. Both families were much pleased, and to save time I will simply say that Albuquerque has seen many beautiful weddings, but there never has been and I feel quite sure there never will be such a beautiful scene as the wedding of Paul Warren and Belle Donley.

Most bridal parties find their way to the altar on a well spread canvas today, but Belle Donley did not tread on canvas to the altar at St. John's Church as she took the matrimonial vows. In place of this, yards of white velvet carpet had been ordered from a carpet house in St. Louis. This soft velvet carpet was pure white with figures of pale pink roses, tied with lovers' knots. As she left her father's door, part of this carpet was stretched from the door to the carriage of the Warren family, which proceeded to the Episcopal church drawn by two beautiful white horses. The same quality of carpet was laid from the altar out to the edge of the sidewalk of the Episcopal Church. The carriage was halted at the corner of Silver Avenue and Forth Street, across the street from the Church. The same carpeting was spread across the street up to the church door, and Belle Donley certainly walked to the matrimonial altar on a bed of roses.

Two small boys dressed in apple blue carried the bridal train of Belle Donley. The ensemble made a picture that no one who say it will ever forget. Belle Donley's Mother was a close relative of Robert E. Lee, and in her was all of the staunch character, the pride and the bearing that would convince anyone that she was to the manner born. Now, you would ask, did they live happily ever after? No. In four months they were divorced. Belle Donley left Albuquerque forever. Paul Warren lived a few short months, then put a bullet through his own head. Thus ended on of Albuquerque's early romances.

Sidney L. Prager
By G. B. Redfield
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Eddy
Surnames mentioned: Prager, Price, Jaffa, Pierce, Walker, Prager, Whiteman,   Pullen, Cahoon, Pamly, Cranville, Goss, Joseph, Goslin, 

Sidney L. Prager, who at the present time is one of the leading merchants of Roswell, first came to New Mexico in 1881. He was influenced by his brother William S. Prager in coming for the purpose of attending the Jesuit College at Albuquerque, which he attended for one year, returning to his home at Pittsburg, Pennsylvania in 1882.

He came west again in 1886, and was engaged as a clerk for a year, in the Price Brothers Mercantile establishment at San Antonio, New Mexico, eleven miles south of Socorro. In June 1887 he removed to Roswell where he became one of the members of the firm of the Jaffa Prager Company Mercantile business organized in 1886. He was associated in the organization with his brother, William S. Prager  who was president of the firm, and the Jaffa brothers, Nathan, Harry and Joe. The business was conducted successfully by these progressive businessmen for ten years. During all the time of their operation together in the struggling little village they assisted in all civic movements for the development and building of Roswell, and of the Pecos Valley, mainly by extending credit where it was needed for establishment of business enterprises. They also assisted in the financing of ranch interests and of stock and agricultural industries for the Pecos valley.

In 1896 Jaffa Prager Company sold out their mercantile business to Joyce Pruitt Company who, after coming to Roswell in 1895 had conducted a general merchandising business consolidated with the firm of Pierce and Walker that had previously operated at Carlsbad, New Mexico. After buying out Jaffa Prager and Company the newly organized firm, operated with a capital stock valued at two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, engaged Sidney Prager as clerk. Familiar as Mr. Prager was with business methods employed for successfully conducting business, he efficiently assisted in building up a firmly established mercantile business that was extended in branch houses opened, at Artesia in August 1904, and at Hagerman in July 1906.

After remaining with the Joyce Pruit Company two years Mr. Prager, in 1898, entered into the mercantile business with Morris Price, as a member of the firm operating under the name of Price and Company, at what is now a and Cigar Store, 212 North Main Street. Later he bought out all interests of the business continuing operations under the name of Price and Company. At the time of the coming of Mr. Prager and the establishment of the Jaffa Prager Company Roswell had made very little progress in business advancement.

By 1898, when he became a member of the firm of Price and company, Chavez County had been created from a part of Lincoln County Roswell had been made County Seat, a court house and jail and a new three room brick school house with a cupolo and bell had been built, and the pioneer grocery store of M. Whiteman had been established.

All of these achievements for the advancement of Roswell accomplished during the one year, 1889 and had been published by a weekly newspaper, the Pecos Valley Register,  which had been established in November 1888 by James A. Erwin and Louis O. Pullen. In 1890 the first bank had been organized by Mr. Cahoon which was established in the Pamly Hotel at that time operated by J. P. Church.

In 1891 the existence of the Artesian Basin had been discovered by chance when water gushed from the top of a surface well when it was drilled on the Nathan Jaffa place. Very soon other artesian wells were drilled at South Main and First Streets and at North Main and Fourth, with Mr. Prager and other business men of Roswell contributing of the expense of putting them down. Thousands of acres in the farming districts were put into cultivation that were watered by the underground water source, and Roswell soon became the trading center of a rich agricultural district as well as of ranch and cattle interests of southeastern New Mexico.

In 1891 by advice and influence of Judge Cranville A. Richardson Roswell was incorporated as a village. During the summer, 1891 the Goss Military Institute was established by Robert S. Goss, a graduate of the Kentucky Military Institute, who was brought to Roswell by Captain Joseph.

The year of 1894 though remembered as the Hard Time year brought the first railroad to Roswell, which was the extension of the Northeastern Railroad from Eddy now Carlsbad, and the The Block, office and club rooms, building was completed, and Roswell Club for social purposes was organized.

During the same year of 1898 that Mr. Prager bought out Morris Price, and as owner assumed the management of the mercantile business of Price and Company the buildings of the New Mexico Military Institute were completed and the school was opened in the fall for In 1890 the first bank had been organized by Cahoon which was established in the Pamly Hotel at that time operated by J. P. Church.

In 1891 the existence of the Artesian Basin had been discovered by chance when water gushed from the top of a surface well when it was drilled on the Nathan Jaffa place at what is now 119 Avenue. Very soon other artesian wells were drilled at South Main and First Streets and at North Main and Fourth, with Mr. Prager and other business men of Roswell contributing of the expense of putting them down.

Thousands of acres in the farming districts were put into cultivation that were watered by the underground water source, and Roswell soon became the trading center of a rich agricultural district as well as of ranch and cattle interests of southeastern New Mexico. In 1891 by advice and influence of Judge Cranville A. Richardson Roswell was incorporated as a village. During the summer, 1891 the Goss Military Institute was established by Robert S. Goss, a graduate of the Kentucky Military Institute, who was brought to Roswell by Captain Joseph.

After fifty successful years under the capable management of Mr. Prager the business now conducted by him at 306 North Main Street has become one of the foremost general merchandising establishments in Roswell and as counted by the years of continuous operation Price and Company is the oldest operating at the present time in Southeast New Mexico. He has guided the business through many years of prosperity as well as through the hard ones of depression and has extended credit and help where in his judgment it was needed most, and has contributed generously to every worthy cause. He has truly been a friend to the Roswell people. Their welfare and the building of the city and of Southeast New Mexico has become one of the main interests in his life.

Mr. Prager, the son of Samuel and Sophie Prager of Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania was born in Pittsburgh June 5, 1869, and was educated in the public schools of Pittsburgh with the exception of the year of 1881 that he attended the Jesuit College at Albuquerque New Mexico. He was married at Dallas Texas in 1896 to Miss Anna (daughter of Louis and Henrieta Goslin of Dallas who came to Roswell in 1893 to fill the place as instructor of music in the Goss Military Institute. Four sons all of whom were married were born to Mr. and Mrs. Prager: William Louis, deceased who died May 17, 1933 Samuel Henry, deceased, died January 24, 1909 Louis Morris with the United Fruit Company, Central American and Produce, who is Government Internal Revenue agent at Denver, Colorado. There were three grandchildren, the sons of Louis M. Prager, Bruce and Glen, who were born in Central America, and Richard the oldest son, who died in 1936.

Mr. and Mrs. Prager have lived continuously in the home built by them in 1903 at 102 South Richardson Avenue, which has ever been open to the Roswell people for social gatherings for musicales and for the enjoyment and study of literature. Their Open House on New Years day has become an annual event of the Roswell social season that has been looked forward to by all the Old Timers of Roswell for over thirty years. Strangers are always cordially welcomed at these receptions and are graciously received at all times by both Mr. and Mrs. Prager.

Fraternally, Mr. Prager is a Mason and an Elk. He is a member of the Roswell Country Club, of the chamber of Commerce, of the Merchants Credit Association Mrs. Prager is a member of the Roswell Order of Eastern Star, of the Roswell Woman's Club, the American Legion Auxilary, Golf Club Pioneer Book Club, and Chavez County Archaeological and Historical Society.

Both Mr. and Mrs. Prager are popular leaders in all social and business affairs of Roswell. They have a large circle of friends who appreciate their efforts in promoting all educational and cultural developments that are instituted for the pleasure and benefit of the Roswell people. 

Indian Slavery
By Dr. Lester Raines
Sources: Mr. and Mrs. Sidney L. Prager
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: General
Surnames mentioned: Romero, Hilario

During the early days of Spanish occupation in the Southwest, Indian slavery existed. Las Vegas and Mora had their share. Indian slaves were, in particular, found in the homes of the wealthier ranchers where they were engaged in the more menial indoor and outdoor work. As in the South, the system was often beneficent. Trustworthy and dependable servants often became valued family retainers, marrying, raising their own families, and frequently taking the family name. Hilario Romero of Las Vegas had three Indian slaves, Refugia, Maria, and Felipa, who served the family for almost sixty years. Refugia and Maria were bought in Texas for $100 each. On a business trip in Mexico Don Hilario loaned $200 to an Indian friend. Meeting him again in Mexico the following year he requested payment. Unable to meet the demand the Indian arranged to give his daughter in payment. Thus Felipa came into the family. She was to serve longer than the other two. She did only housework, while the others worked outdoors. After many years Maria and Refugia were sent home, where they died several years later. Felipa lived to be a very old woman.

Tales of the Moccasin Maker
By  Loren Lorin Brown
Sources: Mr. and Mrs. Sidney L. Prager, Mary A. Fulgenzi
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Taos
Surnames mentioned: Trujillo, Dolores, Garduno, Chavez, Mondragon, Luz, Lupe, Matias, Ramon

Manuel Trujillo was busy making a pair of Teguas  or cow skin moccasins and had only ceased plying his awl when he gave me a good day. I seated myself in his doorway and we talked first of this and then that as I watched him at his work. He was acknowledged one of the best moccasin makers in the village. I could well believe this as I noticed the efficiency with which he worked and the neatness of the escalated edges where the sole was stitched to the uppers. The soles made of softened cowhide used hairy side out when new, gave the wearer the same effect as walking an a deep napped rug. Deer hunters keep a pair of these moccasins in reserve because they render their foot steps noiseless in the woods. Before factory made shoes and boots were introduced into this country moccasins were commonly used for every day. Any shoes or boots acquired through trade with Mexico were very carefully saved for feast days or other great occasions. In those early days a good moccasin maker never lacked for work and food for his household, being paid in produce. Money was almost unknown. Suddenly the tolling of the bell broke in on our conversation.

Must be that Jose Dolores has died, said Manuel, He has been quite sick, but let's see. Stepping outside he lifted his old eyes to the bell tower. All the patios of the village were full of people after the same information and the bell toiler was straining his voice trying to make himself heard above the reverberations of the bell. Since everybody was asking the same question he kept repeating Commend to God the soul of Teodorita Garduno. 

They are tolling for Todorita who died in Taos, may God have mercy on her soul, was Manuel's comment. Oh yes, I remember her, I said, She seemed to be a very good woman. I remember she was the one who always rang the bell for the vespers services during the month of May, and she was so old it must have been a real sacrifice to climb that long ladder every evening of the whole month.

Yes, she kept that up until her granddaughter took her to live with her in Taos, answered Manuel. But I happen to know how she took on that duty. That and other seeming pious acts of hers were just to make us believe she was a good Christian and were done through fear. I happen to know she was a witch and that she was made to beg for forgiveness in public twice, and even for her life. Maybe she really repented before she died. God only knows. But I will tell you. The first time was when Jose de la Luz Chavez wife swore that Teodorita was trying to bewitch her or her baby and swore that she had proved her a witch. She testified that she had tested Teodorita once when she called at her home. After Teodorita was inside she had secretly placed two needles in the shape of a cross over the door frame.

Teodorita tried to leave the house several times, but would get as far as the door and return. She tried this several times and became desperate at her inability to go through that door. Finally Luz's wife taking pity on her removed the needles and showed them to her. Now I know you are a witch, and I want you to promise never to harm me or my family,' she told her. But Teodorita rushed out the door and in her anger cursed Luz’s wife and threatened her baby and herself with unmentionable evils. This was the testimony sworn to. Whereupon the alcalde named two men to accompany Luz to punish Teodorita. They were empowered to whip her if she did not confess and promise to refrain from harming Luz or his family.

In those days the alcalde was the law and what he ordered was carried out. One of these men was Salvador Martinez who helped kill that witch in Chimayo. Because of some harm done him by witches when he was younger he had a very great hatred for them and would gladly kill one. And this time he had the authority given him by the alcalde. When they reached Teodorita's house and read the accusation she at first denied everything, but when Salvador approached with a lariat with which to tie her she knew she could expect no mercy. His reputation was too well known to her. Throwing herself an her knees she begged for mercy, confessed herself a witch, and promised to repent and to not harm Luz or his family. She did not get off so easy because she was made to pray the Rosary with bare knees resting on gravel taken from ant hills. That is very painful I know very well. I doubt if she ever did quit even if she did appear to be so saintly. Many times we noticed those balls of fire, bounding down the hillside as if from Truchas. Reaching Teodorita's house they would disappear as if down the chimney. And the owls used to hoot always in the trees near her house. I doubt if she ever reformed. At any rate everybody in the village was afraid of the old woman and would cross themselves on meeting her. Very few people ever ate anything she prepared and she never had any visitors except those which came through the air.

At another time a group of our brethren were going on a visit to Chimayo. As we were going along singing we noticed a ball of fire rolling along the top of the ridge just to the right of us. Juan Mondragon was with us. You know a Juan can catch a witch no matter in what shape she is. So Juan stepped over in front of this ball of fire and making the sign of the cross drew a circle in the air with his finger. That is, more or less around or in the path of the ball of fire. And, look you, there was Teodorita with her little eyes glaring at us in the lights from our lanterns. She was very mad and implored Juan to let her go. We would not let him until we had made her pray with us then we made her accompany us, barefoot, to Chimayo and back again to Cordova. Then it was that she promised again to behave and perform good deeds in penance for her years of being a witch.

I have seen many strange things on those night visits to other Moradas made in company with other of my brethren. When we had a visit to make to Alcalde we did not go by way of the road. But we would cut across through the hills by way of the Sentinela. Twice after leaving here and getting to the Canada Ancha we were joined by departed brethren. Amiguito, the flesh of our bodies would crawl and creep when these ghosts joined us even though we knew they meant us no harm. They were, no doubt, the spirits of those who had neglected some sworn vows while on earth and had been sent back to fulfill them in this way. Before we knew it they would be with us and they would accompany us until we started down towards the first houses in Ranchitos. The lights from our lanterns seemed to shine through them and we could see their ribs and the bones of their arms as they walked along with us. They were all hooded, some were flagellating, and others dragged crosses. How strange to see those disciplines fall on those ghostly, scarred backs and to see those heavy crosses being dragged along without a sound. And when we stopped to pray our brethren from the other world stopped with us, crossing themselves at the proper times, but never making a sound. You may be sure we were very glad when they would leave us and we waited until daylight to make the return trip. These were undoubtedly brethren who had made vows while on earth to make some penance or pilgrimage and had neglected to do so while alive and had been sent back to fulfill them before being able to enter heaven. Pobrecitos, may God have given their soul's rest before this.

Tia Lupe:
Strolling aimlessly through the almost deserted streets of the little village of Cordova, one afternoon, I stopped in the open doorway of Tia Lupe's one room adobe home. There was a storm coming up, one of those some times violent electrical mountain storms following on a spell of hot weather. I was shocked and surprised to see this pious old lady engaged in a sacrilegious act so contrary to my knowledge of her simple and sincere love and veneration for the saints. With a very blunt butcher knife she was endeavoring to slice a portion, lengthwise, from the side of wooden figure of Santa Barbara. This battered figure showed signs of previous sign of like nature and a rich resinous odor was released in the little room by this resent operation, which had been successfully concluded before I had gotten over my surprise.

Guadalupe Martines of Tia Lupe as she was known to everybody in Cordova, after a few years of service in the households in Santa retired to her almost cell like room in this little town. Here she lived a simple and pious life helping her neighbors in their many homely tasks in return for gifts of food and wood. One of her duties, because of the proximity of her house to the church, was the care of keys to the church. After the monthly visit of the priest from Santa Cruz and after other services held there, hers was the self appointed task of cleaning and dusting the church. Her attitude towards the figures of different saints in their niches and around the altar, was one of reverent and understanding companionship. While arranging their tunics and adornments she would audibly admire the new attire of one, address a supplication to another in behalf of some one in the village, and with another saint she might even advance a tentative bargain of a pair of candles or a new dress in return for some small favor.

So with a surprised Que tiene Tia What are you doing with poor Santa Barbara. She will punish you for maltreating her so. No hijo Come in and I will show you what I am doing. As I stepped in through the door the storm broke outside and a flash of lightning lit up the little room. Maria Santissima y Santa Barbara Nos libgre was Tia Lupe's audible prayer. See now I will protect my little casita and all in it from the lightning. So saying the old lady stepped over and placed the sliver of wood from the saints figure in the fireplace. The bed of coals already there ignited the rich pitch pine sliver making a bright little blaze. Making the sign of the cross while her lips moved in a silent prayer Tia Lupe next seated herself on a wooden bench in the fireside corner. After she had rolled a corn husk cigarette she made the following observations. Santa Barbara should be prayed to in time of storms but in the way I have shown you she is more sure protection. For many years I guarded myself and casita in time of storms in the way I have shown you. When Padre Ramon told me to remove Santa Barbara form the alter to make way for a new Santa given by Don Matias, I brought her home. I told Santa Barbara how I was going to use her and ever since she has been my sure protection. So that was the explanation I received for that seeming irreverent treatment of the saints image.

But don't the saints punish us some times? I asked wishing to hear the other side of this interesting question. The blessed saints do punish as well as protect so we must be careful how we speak of them and treat them was my answer from this interesting character.  Continuing after a short pause during which she chuckled to herself, her wrinkled face lighting up with a smile. After I had denied recollection of the tale and had expressed a desire to hear it, she related the following humorous incident.

I know about the man who was a maker of saints statues, and one day when I was helping his wife grind cornmeal, Manuel had just finished two large bultos. I do not remember who they were, but he had stood them in the sun to dry, just outside his door. Shortly after two borrachos both dead now, may they rest in peace came by. They were arm in arm, haciendo des veredas trying to follow two trails, is staggering.

One of them saw the bultos and half surprised said, Mira que quantos tan endemonia de grandes Look what demonically large saints. His companion looked over and said, Calla, que no sabes que los santos son el diablo para castigar? Hush, don't you know that the saints are the very devil to punish one. Greatly amused by the tale I left Tia Lupe's fireside knowing that I would return often to listen to her very amusing and interesting conversation.

L. A. Brown
A Tough One
By W. M. Emery
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Union
Surnames mentioned: Brown, Easley, Drew, Owens, Rough

I guess I've worked with a hundred or more bandits and outlaws, said Albert Easley, And I found them to be the finest bunch of fellows in the country to work with. They use to come down here to the IOI Ranch and work and rest when the Law was getting too close to them, then all of a sudden they would pack up and leave and go back to their business again.

But they were a jolly, generous bunch. They'd do anything in the world for you if they liked you. They could take a joke better than lots of men, and were always ready to play some prank on someone. Of course you couldn't ask them too many personal questions, and you didn't want to get serious when you were joking them. Some of them were pretty tough characters, too, but we never had a killing on the I O I Ranch.

I remember one man, whom one of the boys came in and announced a new settler fifteen miles away, jumped up and said, I'm leaving. This country's getting too darn close for me. They had their principles, too. Maybe a little less high than a lot of folks, but not broken half as often. They gambled, but not with kids. They drank whiskey, but would not give a kid a drink. Try to find somebody in those businesses now who does that way.

But the toughest fellow that I ever saw was a boy about twenty-two. I was working for the pitchfork Ranch up above Folsom, when this kid came in and started to work. He was a pretty good hand, but he was always bragging about how tough he was, but I figured that a fellow who was always bragging about how tough he was couldn't be very tough, because really tough men didn't as a general thing, brag about their toughness. But he turned out to be just as tough as he said he was.

One day he wanted to go to the Cottonwoods to get some whiskey. Mr. Drew was running the store there at that time, and it was just a Mexican Plaza. I told him that I couldn't go but if he wanted to go to start out, and if he brought back any whiskey I might help him drink it.

He was gone a couple of days. When be got back he was just having a big time over the way he had corralled the Mexicans of the Plaza, in the store, and kept them there all the time he was in the Plaza. I never thought much about it at the time, but a few days later I saw Mr. Drew and he told me that the fellow had really done just that, and every time one of them stuck his head out that boy' knocked sand in his eyes, he shot so close to the Mexican that he dug up the sand around his feet, and it flew in his eyes.

After he had worked about six weeks, I had to go to Trinidad for supplies. Rufus, his name was Rufus Rough, wanted to go with me. He rode horseback and I went in the buckboard. As we started up Frijole Hill, we met two Mexicans hauling wood. That boy jerked out his gun and began shooting between the burro's feet. Those two Mexicans were scared to death. They tumbled off of their loads of wood and literally rolled down the side of the hill. The Burros ran away scattering wood in every direction. I never saw anyone laugh as hard as that boy did.

When we got to Trinidad he hunted up Dr. Owens and asked for his time. After he had spent most of his money in Trinidad, he went to work for a big outfit over on the Picketwire, below Trinidad. A man named Johnson was boss of that outfit, and he and Rufus didn't get along from the start. One day they had a quarrel and Rufus shot Johnson in the hip. The cowboys shot Rufus, and laid him out in the bunk house, for dead. They put his gun in his bed roll, and went outside.

But Rufus came to, got his gun out of that bed roll and crawled to the door and began shooting at those boys, before they knew what was happening. They surrounded the bunk house and recaptured Rufus, then they took him out and hung him to a high tree and shot him full of holes. They made sure he was dead that time. That boy was the toughest one person I ever saw.