deceived. The conviction, at last, took form in words. Rolling an
immense quid of his beloved Indian weed from one cheek to its brother
he said, "Look 'ere _stranger_, you can't come that over me any how.
You ain't the kind of Kit Carson I am looking for."

This was too much for Kit Carson to hear without treating the person
addressed to his _beau ideal_ of Kit Carson, so suppressing a laugh,
and assuming a very meek expression of countenance, as if he was
afraid to impose upon the Arkansas man, he quietly pointed to a
powerfully built trader, who chanced to be passing near by, dressed
in true prairie style. The Arkansas emigrant followed around after the
trader until, seemingly, he was perfectly satisfied, that he had, at
last, found the famous person of whom he had heard so many wonderful
stories narrated. After gazing at the man for some time, he departed,
no doubt with one more perfect description of what sort of personage
Kit Carson was.

From the time Kit Carson's name began to be heralded throughout the
world up to the present date, impostors have presented themselves in
various cities; and, acting on the credulity of the people, they have
palmed themselves off as the individual of whom we write; but, from
the perusal of this work, it can be seen how seldom the real Kit
Carson has enjoyed the luxuries of civilized life. It is in this way,
many persons have gathered wrong impressions concerning Kit Carson.

Within the past few years, a stranger one day presented himself in
the quiet town of Taos, and, being a fellow of words, he soon let
everybody there know his business, both past and present. In one of
the principal stores of the town, there happened to be congregated a
small party of friends, among whom was Kit Carson. They were talking