He mined on the bar Till he couldn't pay rates; He was smashed by a car When he tunnelled with Bates; And right on the top of his trouble kem his wife and five kids from the States. It was rough,- mighty rough; But the boys they stood by, And they brought him the stuff For a house, on the sly; well, she did washing, and took on when no one But this yer luck of Dow's Was so powerful mean That the spring near his house Drie right up on the green; And he sunk forty feet down for water, but nary a drop to be seen. Then the bar petered out, And the boys wouldn't stay; But Dow, in his well, kept a peggin' in his usual ridikilous way. With a shovel and pick on his shoulder, and a derringer hid in his breast. He goes to the well, And he stands on the brink, And stops for a spell Jest to listen and think: For the sun in his eyes (jest like this, sir !), you see, kinder made the cuss blink. His two ragged gals In the gulch were at play, Not much for a man to be leavin', but his all, - And that's a peart hoss as I've heer'd the folks say. Thet you've got ain't it now? What might be her cost? Eh? Oh!- Well then, Dow— Let's see, well, that forty-foot grave wasn't his, sir, that day, anyhow. For a blow of his pick Sorter caved in the side, And he looked and turned sick, Then he trembled and cried; For you see the dern cuss had struck-"Water ?" - Beg your parding, young man, there you lied! It was gold, in the quartz, And it ran all alike; And I reckon five oughts Was the worth of that strike; And that house with the coopilow's his'n, which the same isn't bad for a Pike. Thet's why it's Dow's Flat; And the thing of it is That he kinder got that Through sheer contrairiness: For 'twas water the derned cuss was seekin', and his luck made him certain to miss. Won't you come up to tea? No? Well, then the next time you're passin'; and ask after Dow, — and thet's me. PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM TRUTH-| But he smiled as he sat by the table, FUL JAMES. With the smile that was childlike But the floor it was strewed, Like the leaves on the strand, With the cards that Ah Sin had been hiding In the game "he did not under- Which is why I remark, stand." In his sleeves, which were long, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar, — Which the same I am free to maintain. And this was all the religion he And Bludso's ghost went up alone had, To treat his engine well; Never be passed on the river To mind the pilot's bel!: And if ever the Prairie Belle took fire, A thousand times he swore, He'd hold her nozzle agin the bank Till the last soul got ashore. In the smoke of the Prairie Belle. He seen his duty, a dead-sure thing,And went for it thar and then; All boats has their day on the Mis- And Christ ain't a going to be too hard OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. A FAMILIAR LETTER TO SEVERAL | You hand us a nosegay of milliner's CORRESPONDENTS. YES, write, if you want to, there's nothing like trying; Who knows what a treasure your casket may hold ? I'll show you that rhyming's as easy as lying If you'll listen to me while the art I unfold. You can reel off a song without knitting your brow, With musical murmurs and rhythmi- As lightly as Rembrandt a drawing cal closes You can cheat us of smiles when you've nothing to tell; or etching; It is nothing at all, if you only know how. |