San Andreas independent., 1858-01-30
Written for the San Andreas independently
POTATO SKETCHES.

| We are the fragment of farmer "a
luckless bachelor cannot be complete
husband-man, doing up the potato cul
ture with one-man and two-horse power
Although we have no trouble to keep our
horses, Cone is too lazy to run and the
other is so crippled that we can always
overtake him. our hired man is forever
departing, sometimes "peremptory" on
our part, and other times for cause" on
his. This frequent and intimate associa-
ton with different specimens of humanity
must not be lost, and such excellent op-
portunity to observe character, is duly ap-
preciated by your correspondent. Our
habltation is of the "Uncle Tom" style
OF architecture, and is delightfully."- modest
and simple in appearance 1t has sit
ting room, dining room, store room,
and a kitchen, but the protector, from
Icommendable motives of economy, parti-
toned these apartments only by imaginary
lines on the floor no down stairs for
funkies, nor up stairs for visitors our
man is always our companion. Tom Pike
sat thinking of nothing in particular, one
evening, while we were reading aloud, the
more effectually to enjoy an impassioned
passage in Hamlet. Tom appeared de-
lighted; was it possible that he was also
an admirer of the great dramatistl What
DO you think of that, Tom? said we, as VIC
finished the reading. Dang me, said the
fellow, whose ideas of play were limited
to the performances of " Frenchy," dang
me ifyou wouldn make first rate clomn.
| Murder
Have you any job of work? Let Barney
Rooney, the propounder of this interrog-
atory, bespeak his own recommendation
L was mason's superintindant at home
that is, you see, watching the masons that
they are not idle, and helpin' them, occa-
sionally to bit of morther and bricks,
but its promoted | am here, to mason
meseP, and I've built some illigant chin
neys. Our habitation wanted chimney,
and here was an opportunity. Can you
make adobes? we enquired. Illigent ones,
said Barney. That evening Barney was
our companion. Going ourself into the
field, the following morning, our man was
directed to commence his adobe opera.
tlons. On returning, we found Barney
| persplrlng over stove laden with all its
pot and pan appendages, and bearing upon
his countenance the characteristic Hiber-
man grin of profound anxiety How get
along the adobes? They are already done
and baked, answered Barney, but the
divil is in 'em. | put no more than a
box of that white ingredient to quart of
flour, and they were content with the one
pot for while, but the divil's imps took
rise on me. What are they? we en-
9uired, seeing dumplings in the pots, dump
llngs in the tea kettle, dumplings in the
coffee boiler and dumplings all over the
stove. Call them, calculated Barney; are
they not dongh-boys, savin' the divil is
in 'em. Barney had missed the adobes,
and spoiled = completely spoiled, the
dumplings. This white powder, we ex-
planned, is the devil you speak of. Pow
ther, is it, exclaimed Barney; then it's
mighty strong powther, that can blow
them up that way, being wet.
Barney had been hunting ducks on a
rainy morning, and when lie returned, his
empty game bag and disconnected aspect
gave signs of an unsuccessful promenade.
Where is your game? we asked Game !
exclaimed Barney in an irritated tone :;
that id white powther might rise dump
lin doughboys, but divil haporth is it
worth for ducks. You stupid fool, you We
loaded our gun with Yeast Powder
What's that ye called me, roared Barney.
Blockhead, we retorted The indignant
HIbernian was approaching us with the
most uncharitable intentions, having in
view the exceeding great danger of an
uninterrupted encounter witha man, who,
in his rage, could not comprehend the
salutary little word, enough" we gave
him, directly across his eyes to stop his
progress, a copy of Watson's Poetical
Quotations" followed close with a we'll
aimed blow upon the abdomen, with
"Dick upon the Digestive Organs" See
ing the fellow still approaching, we seized
the gun loaded with No. shot, and
Preston and Merrill's Infallible," and
taking advantage of his credulity, we
exclaimed, bringing the gun to our shoul-
der, we can make it go! Holy Moses, he
cried, disappearing through the back win
dow, mutterlng as he went-if ever the
white powther catches, there'll be great
crackin' and somebody kilt.
Tom BLOT
LIVE OAK, January 10th, 1858.