The weekly mountain Democrat. [volume] (Placerville, El Dorado County, Calif.) 1861-1862, 1861-11-30
'Is it right. sir p asked Jones.

Benjumin Roorbaek. =
Is it right, sir ? asked Jones.
Perfectly replied the doctor; and l
must acknowledge that you are q person
Of most extraordinary abilities-you can
read your own writing, which, / will ven-
turc to affirm, no other created being can
do. Why, sir. would as soon under
take to make out document in the Chi
nese or Sanscrit! Will you finish with
thcScT he asked, handing the other pa
pcrs.
| cannot, indeed, sir, replied Jones'
my time is already passed; ) and he left
the doctor to ponder over his hieroglyph-
ic manuscript
In the evening, Jones, with rousing
fire behind him, was seated at-his table,
busy at his poem, and having rapidly
thrown off half dozen lines, was begin.
ming to get in the vein, when the doctor
entered, and the thread of his ideas was
severed. lie covered his manuscript, and
sat silent.
liam glad to find good fire. said the
doctor, for the night is bitter cold. !
must contrive TO write out my memorial,
although my finger is yet very rigid
and with his paper before him, he took q
seat on the opposite side Of the table, and
began his task. Jones, too, when he saw
his companion well occupied, resumed his
poem, and was getting along very well,
when the doctor interrupted him.
! see, sir, said he, by the arrange
ment Of the lines on the paper before
you, you are writing what you will call
poetry, but which l deem egregious non.
sense. 1t is strange that u rational being
can thus waste his time
This interruption to his thoughts, and
the abjnration which Occasioned it, was q
little more than my friend could BEAR
lie returned to his labor, however, in the
hope of recovering the train Of his ideas,
when the doctor, who had rapidly finish
ed page Of his manuscript, handed it
across the table.
Hold that to the fire. he said.
Jones took the paper, in an irrisated
mood, and slipping it behind him, beneath
the fore-stick, it was in an instant up the
chimney in tamO.
lie had resumed his occupation but q
little time, when the doctor again thrust
across another sheet, with
THAT to the fire.
This paper followed the other.
Jones now finding it impossible to con-
tinue it, locked up his poem, and taking .
book, he waited the final explosion, which
would ensue when the doctor should dis.
cover the fate Of his memorial.
1t came atlast. The doctors last sheets
had been SO rapidly composed as to need
drying, and they had accumulated beside
him. Gathering them up he counted
them.
Pretty well, said he, for lame fin.
ger. Give me the others,11hc continued;
holding out his hand towards Jones.
The others, sir = said my friend, with
look of the utmost aStoniShment. did
you not tell me to put them in the fireY'
Put them in the fire, sir! What! do
you think would write them in so much
pain, merely for you to burn! You sure
ly have not thrown them into the fireP'
Yes l have was the reply, with an
| increased look of amazcment. Il thought
you were not satisfied with them, and that
is the way dispose of anything write
which does not please me. 1t is a great
pity that you did not speak little plain
err ~
Plainer!' roared the doctor could
not have spoken palmer had used q
speaking trumpet!
At this moment, Mr.. Gregory, candle
in hand, made his appearance, followed
by servant.
Doctor he said, Colonel Hawkins
| has oono h0,,,o aud Nynnr oil roov,, % v,.
cant; it is oil ready, and here is the man
to carry down your trunk
| 0m most exceedingly glad to hear it,
and am equally rejoiced to get rid Of
you, sir, said the doctor, turning to Jones,
and eyeing him stcrnly. You are either
sly-devilish sly-Or else you are the
stupidest young man ever met with
Saying this, he stalked out of the room
with all the sullen dignity Of the shade Of
Ajax before Ulysses in Hades.
Jones listened to his retreating foot
steps, and when they had ceased, and he
fairly beyond hearing, he burst into :
roar of laughter, which continued saNs
intcrmissiOn until his sides ached, rsCoS-
ering from which, he regained bis good
humOr, and setting himself fairly at woflE,
he finished his poem. The next day be
took it to publisher in q small way, and
ordered number Of copies for distribu-
ton among his friends, not forgetting
those most interested Of the other party.
1t was . caustic satire Of some hfEE
lines, and fell like homh-shall amOna
the friends Of the managers, who were "a
at loss to guess the author Of the a.
plosicn and the wit cFackers' q HI
side retorted with the hass of thsina
hitting right and lelk at many. =
have aided and comiortsd tie
Three or four days ailse ~
circulated, I happened to hs j l
library, choosing : bOck, Hhss