An American Hobo in Europe / A True Narrative of the Adventures of a Poor American at Home and in the Old Country

By WINDY BILL
A TRUE NARRATIVE OF THE ADVENTURES OF A POOR AMERICAN AT HOME AND IN THE OLD COUNTRY
PRESS OF THE CALKINS PUBLISHING HOUSE SAN FRANCISCO, CAL.
Copyright 1907 by B. Goodkind

Stranger, will you please permit me to give you an introduction to a particular friend of mine, little Billy. Little Billy and I had long been friends and had become so intimate that we were more like brothers than friends. Some brothers indeed do not stick to each other as closely as Billy and I did for we never quarreled and the worst that ever happened between us was a little growl which we soon got over.
Billy and I had been on the bum together a long while and had prospected for gold and other things in Utah, Nevada and California. The adventures we had if I were to relate them would fill several such volumes as this. And many of them were worth relating, too, but I will merely give a general outline of our experiences, for his experiences were mostly mine.
While hiking it along the railroad one day between Ogden and Salt Lake City which is a distance of about thirty-seven miles, we ran across a couple of pretty Mormon girls about half a mile from town and they made goo-goo eyes at us. Billy, who is rather reserved with strangers, was for moving on, but I, who am a friendly and sociable cuss, was in for having a little time with them.
What's the harm, Billy? said I to my chum; let's see what kind of stuff the girls are made of.
Oh, what's the use, Windy, responded Billy; we might get into trouble.
Trouble be blowed, said I; they ain't agoing to make any trouble so why should we . Let's see what their game is anyway.