The year is 1834.
A young lad named Clive had just completed his last year of Chemist school, and dreamed of leaving Boston and practicing his craft on the new American frontier. He gathered up his sundries, including his mortar and pestle, and embarked on a train bound for Mississippi River.
Upon arriving in Cairo, Illinois, this meek, mild-mannered young lad of slight build and demeanor inquired about a float trip from Cairo to St. Louis. After being admonished for not pronouncing it “Kaaro”, he was given the departure information and was on his way.
Being sure to disembark on the Kansas side of the river, he immediately sought out a stable and an outfitter to purchase all he needed for his impending adventure. A grand steed was what he had envisioned for himself, but was quite taken aback by the sheer enormity of these beasts. A pony would be just fine, he concluded.
Now for the proper garb! Not being acquainted with western wear and lingo, he tried the patience of his shopkeeper. No doubt finding proper belongings due to his diminutive stature along with his high pitched voice added to the proprietor’s discontent.
Kansas was too developed for him as it turned out…too many chemists. He therefore decided to push into the next territory. A cowboy town called Durango a couple hundred miles away was suggested to him by some na’er-do-well headed east on the same trail.
He and his pony were overtaken numerous times on the trail due to the pony’s short legs. No doubt these seasoned cowboys chuckled as they passed Clive and his wildly kinetic pony, observing to themselves that if the semi-steed‘s legs moved any faster, they’d look like they were going backwards!
