NICK-OF-THE-WOODS.
HANK MONK.
(The Famous Stage-driver of the Sierras.)
On this stage-line (Benton’s) from Carson to Lake Tahoe will be found Hank Monk, one of the best known and most famous stage-drivers of the Sierra Nevada Mountains. He it was who gave Horace Greeley his memorable ride across the Sierras on the occasion of his visit to California. Mr. Greeley was anxious to reach Placerville as early in the evening as possible, as he was expected to make a speech to the people of the town, and once or twice expressed a fear that he should be behind time. Monk said nothing, as he was then on a long up-grade. At length the top of the mountain was reached, and Monk started on the down-grade at a fearful rate of speed. Mr. Greeley bounded about the coach like a bean in a gourd, and soon became greatly alarmed. He thrust his head out at the coach window and tried to remonstrate, but Monk only cried: “Keep your seat, Horace, I’ll take you through on time!”
Mr. Greeley then remained quiet for a time, when he again became alarmed as they whirled at lightning speed around some short curve in the road, and out would come his head, and again Monk would shout: “Keep your seat, Horace.”
It is safe to say that the philosopher never took a wilder ride, than that in the Sierras with Hank Monk for his driver.
Monk, in common with all his tribe, hates the sight of one of those ponderous specimens of architecture in the trunk-line known as the “Saratoga bandbox.” On one occasion a lady who was stopping at the Glenbrook House, Lake Tahoe, had a “Saratoga” of the three-decker style at Carson City, which she wished brought up to the lake. The trunk was about as long and wide as a first-class spring mattress and seven or eight feet high. The lady had managed to get it as far as Carson by rail, but the trouble was to get it up into the mountain. Monk had two or three times promised to bring it up “next trip,” but always arrived without it. At last he drove up in front of the hotel one evening, and, as usual, the lady came out on the veranda to ask if he had brought her trunk.
Like the immortal Washington, Monk cannot tell a lie, and so he said: “No, marm, I haven’t brought it, but I think some of it will be up on the next stage.”
“Some of it!” cried the lady.
“Yes; maybe half of it, or such a matter.”