Did n't know Flynn!

Well, that is queer;

Why, it's a sin

To think of Tom Flynn,

Tom with his cheer,

Tom without fear,

Stranger, look 'yar!

Thar in the drift,

Back to the wall,

He held the timbers

Ready to fall;

Then in the darkness

I heard him call:

"Run for your life, Jake!

Run for your wife's sake!

Don't wait for me."

E

"CICELY."

ALKALI STATION.

CICELY says you 're a poet; maybe; I ain't

much on rhyme:

I reckon you'd give me a hundred, and beat me

every time.

Poetry!— that's the way some chaps puts up an

idee,

But I takes mine "straight without sugar," and

that's what's the matter with me.

Poetry! just look round you, - alkali, rock, and

sage;

Sage-brush, rock, and alkali; ain't it a pretty

page!