Advent of the .30-30 in Pople Holler

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Interesting story from:

The NATIONAL SPORTSMAN April 1909

THE ADVENT OF THE THIRTY-THIRTY IN POPLE HOLLER.

The usual crowd of hunters had assembled in Judd Wilkins' general store and were "chawin'" Judd's fine cut and talking gun. "Them thirty-thirty rifles is shore a heap too powerful; at least fer sech a highly domesticated community sech as we, comprise."

This emanated from the longl egged. blue eyed man by the stove. As he spoke he helped himself from the pail of "Tiger" just under the counter and settled back in his chair with the air of a man ready to prove his assertions. The evident cause of Sim's remark was a sale, which had just been completed by the storekeeper, of a box of "shucks" of the mentioned calibre. Sim's audience seemed to expect further remarks from the sandy haired gentleman, but they were not forthcoming until the "tenderfoot," under evident strain, blurted out, "Why, Sim?" Without giving the young man a glance to show that his query had been recognized, Sim expectorated copiously into the box of saw dust and proceeded to render his evidence.
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"Did ya hear about Steve Squiggs, and the experience which he had with a rifle shootin' the afore-mentioned catridge? "Steve, ya know, had, until the time of this har incident, been shootin' the 01' 44-40 Winchester, in comrnon with the majority of us, and askin' fer no better. Howsomever, he was over to Pople Holler one day this fall, and seen a dude agent fer some gun store demonstratin' this thirty-thirty rifle. He ' sot up a plow pint nd put a bullet plumb through the thickest part of it. There wan't no smoke and but dern small noise to the gun, but she shore seemed to shoot hard.

Steve watched this hyar due for awhile and finally made up his mind that he wanted a gun which was just that powerful. So he finally ordered a rifle and some catridges and come back home. The feller give Steve a whole lot of pictures and sech like stuff which same described the gun an' told whole lot about what it would do. "Steve ain't sayin' nothin' to his wife about the gun he'd bought 'cause Mrs. S don't entertain to high regards for the arts 0' guns an' gunnin'; and frequently expressed her opinion of the pore" werthless critters that wasted their time and money amusin' 'em.

"She" was nacherally strong minded that way. I hern her' say onct that she stood body an' soul for woman subterfuge or suffruge or somethin' like that. I didn't quite sense the word but I understood that what ever it meant it shore stood a good chance. "Moreover, she wan't no dern fool and" when she sees Steve perusin' that gun litatoor she had a mighty closer hunch what was up. But she don't say nothin'.

After awhile Steve got word that the gun was at the station. So he went over to' Pople Holler and brung it home. He unpacked it and looked it all over' and finally slipped some 0' the catridges into the magazine and went out into the yard to kill a turkey fer a feller over in the Holler as had ordered one offen Steve. Steve's method of slaughtering fowls don't never appeal to Mrs. S. She allowin' as is both inhuman an' ungraceful, but she jest shuts her mouth a little harder and don't peep. Steve selects the turk and, drawin' a bead on the said turk's head, he unhitches.

There's a noise like bustin' out a winder light and the turk flaps on the ground. But that ain't all. After killin' the turk, the ball turns on a little stone and whirls into the carriage shed an' takes a spoke outen the right forward wheel on Squiggs' new buckboard. Havin' done that much, an' encounterin’ metal somewhere it turns again and passes out the side of the shed and buzzes merrily for the house. Meetin’ Steve on the way, it lovingly nicks his right ear an’ sails on.

It gains access to the kitchen by way of the woodbox and after knockin’ a frien’ spider outen Mrs. Squiggs’ han, goes through the winder and maims one o’ ol’ man Willet’s prize Dures hogs, which it costs Steve fifty dollars to replace.

Mrs. Steve nacherally lets out one mighty yawl and, marchin’ out to the yard where Steve stands, lookin’ dazed like that, she extracts the wepin from his nervous hand and hides it under the bed in the house. That is, she don’t jest hide it, cause Steve knows where it is, but with the Mrs. Lookin’ like that he dassent touch it.

He says, it’s to dern strong anyway, an I guess he is right. The storekeeper, during the excitement attendent on Sim’s climax, shoved the fine cut entirely under the counter and with meekly reproachful glances, the gun club filed out.

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Looks like they had as much contempt for new cartridges as some of us do now.