Weekly Trinity journal., 1867-03-16
"THE JOKERs OF BAGDAD.y
BY T. r. JONES.


one of the -four sacks and left in o hurry.
Fossen came home to dinner, and soon missed
the shirts. Swearing vengeance against tie Dig
gers whom he believed to have stolen them. he
started for town, but as he paused on the bank
and looked down in Smiths claim, heavens /
what sight met his eyes There were the shirts !;
the tails sewed artistically together and the bag
thus formed filled with sand and mud, piece of
rope tied round each standing collar and ranged
three each side of the iume to dam the water
with the starched and pleated bosoms turned
toward the trail
George took one look at the missing garments
and started home to study revenge. That even
ing he went to town to replace the lost portion
of his wardrobe nd stopped to see Smith, who
but there was a fragrant smell of new made
bread about the house which struck gratefully
on his nostrils. Following his nose he opened
the big Dutch oven, and there, sure enough,
was SPLENDID newly baked loaf, large enough
to supply Hank and his partner with bread the
rest of the week. Putting it under his arm he
continued his journey till, just before he
reached Bagdad he met an old Digger, to whom
he passed it over and received promise that
the next day big pile of wood should be
brought to his house in return.
George found that the joke of the shirts had
already got wind and to save credit he had to
tell how well Mr.. Injun was faring. But the ar
rival of the express with letters and papers
turned the current of conversation.
I" Here's letter for you, Hank, " said the ex-
pressman to the worthy, as he looked over his
list.
Hank took his letter and soon had it read
90 By Jove, this is provoking" said he, then
q my brother is in San Francisco, sick and
broke. I'll have to go down.
''When will you be back" inquired Bates,
who in the crowd.
% Hard telling when. May be not for month.
/ IN sorry your account, Jim, played even on
Fossen to-day, and I'D catch you mapping before
long"
q All right when you do, said Jim with 8
grin, which about as near laugh as ht
ever got, q but let that pass for the present.
Yon 90 to morrow, s'pose"
-" Well, yes, I'll start in the morning, think ,
q Then III bid you good bye tonight" sale
jim, extending his hand. . Write to me if yor
have time, and let us know how you fare on The
road
"I'll do it, cried Hank, as idea flashed into
his mind. - Yes, you shall hear from me, sc
good bye," and the crowd dispersed while Smith
went home to prepare for his journey.
The next morning Smith the road to
San Francisco Three miles from Bagdad was a
- ranch" the proprietor of which also kept a
saloon and eating house. Here he wrote letter
to Jim Bates with orders not to send it except By
erpress.- Two miles further on he came to another
mining camp, and another letter was written and
left with the order By the time he had
reached the county seat, where he took stage for
the rest of the journey he had written Mr.. Bates
no less than nine letters which, delivered by ex-
press at the uniform charge of four bits each,
would be apt TO deplete Jim's finances a trihe.
And at each post office on the road to San Fran
cisco, Mr.. Bates had for the nonce correspond
ent
When the express day came around the miners
had collected usual at the stove, where the
Office was kept At the usual hour the express
rider galloped up on his mule, dismounted and
| saddlebags in hand walked up to the counter, fol-
lowed by the expectant crowd o, ye denizens
of the East, who rejoice in your daily mail ar
rivals, and 6dget and fret, if it is delayed for
few minutes, if We had to dwell among the track
less mountains of the Golden State, and wait for
The weekly round of the Expressman to receive
tidings from the loved ones at home, how long
would it be ere your patience would be put tc
the trial? {" The expressman's got in" The
word passed from claim to claim-pck and
shovel are dropped-the half-cooked meal is left
upon the fre--the water passes through the
suices pure and bright as it had entered them
and each hurries to town in the hope too often
vain) that he will get letter. Such were the
postal arrangements of a few years ago, and
such they are to-day in some of the more remote
mining regions of the Pacific Coast. Riding
almost impossible mountains, fordng torrents
swollen by the melting SHOWS threading his
way through deep and lonely gulches, and ex-
posed often to danger from marauders who watch
| for him on the trail, the mountain expressman is
an institution peculiar to this country, and one
for whose safety and welfare the denizcns of the
mountains were and with good reason, watchful
and anxious. Now, however, since the hand OF
enterprise has girded the mountain sides with
substantial thoroughfares, has bridged the foam
ing torrents and swept the dense underground
from the gloomy canyons and each little mining
town has its post office established, the mountain
express has become thing of the past, soon to
be remembered only in the traditions of the ear
ly pioneer:
Not whit anticipating however, that the day
would soon come when his occupation like
Othellos S would be gone, our Expressman walk
ed up to the counter opened his bags and poured
forth the letters. "Jim Bates" was the first
name called Jim handed over his half dollar
and received the coveted missive. "Jim Bates -
again. and again the operation was repeated
" Your lucky cuss, Jim,' said one. "She's
getting anxious, old toppy,' said another Jim
replied by self satisfied grin. Bates again, u
said the Expresslnan. and Bates handed out a
FIVE dollar piece and received the letter and his
change. 'Another for Bates and the grin on
his face gave place to a look of surprise, which
again changed to a look of black dismay as the
g. letter for Bates" continued to be repeated
But all things have end and so did the list OF
letters. Bates now had chance to look at his
pile of letters, sixteen in number-more than had
been received by all the rest beside.
"Colusa,' said he, examining the post mark,
{; who the deuce knows me down there? Here 8
one with no mark on it., I'll see who it's from,
and he tore open the envelope. "D-uon ne
muttered, as he glanced at the contents anu
threw it on the floor.
"Something wrong, Jim?' asked Fossen' VINO
was standing by. .,,
"Wrong9 No. Yes responded jim, pick
inc nm the letter Its from that fool Smith,
, h r. r. rs,her short and sweet for fifty cents
M worth. Eeres what he says and Jim read :
:. Dear Jim-I've got to Whelan's all right.
Cussed poor whiskey they keep here. Truly
yourn, II. F. SMITH"
awhat dye 'spose be means by such letter
as that?' inquired Fossen when the reading was
concluded.