Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1871-06-30
THE POET OF SIERRA FLAT.
BY BRET HARTE.

BY BRET HARTE.
As the enterprising editpr of tho s;eyyo
r. e% hec0Ta STOOD at his case setting type
for his next weeks ps.per. he couId moi
help hearing the woodpeckers who were
busy on the rodf above his head. II oc-
CURED 10 MI ri that possibly the birds had
noe yet leF med to recognize in the rude
siuNI'i'J any improvement upon nature,
anu I'd IS idea pleased him so much that he
lnco' '.porated it in the editorial article
witch he was then doubly composing.
y.or the editor was also printer of the
-Rec0Td; and although that remarkable
D0Urnal was reputed to exert a power felt
Through all Calaveras and greater part of
Auolumne Comfy, strict economy was one
OF the conditions of its beneficent exist
encc.
Thus preoccupied, he was startled by
the sudden Eruption of small roll of
manuscript, which was thrown through
the open door, and fell at his feet. He
walked quickly to the threshold and look.
ed down the tangled trail which led to the
high road But there was nothing to sug.
gest the presence of his MYSTERIOUS con-
tributor. A hare limped slowly away, a
Sreenand-gold lizard paused upon pine
stump, the woOdpeckers ceased their work
30 complete had been his sylvan seclusion
that he found it difficult to connect any
human agency with the act; rather the
hare seemed to have an inexpressibly
guilty look, the woodpeckers to maintain a
significant silence, and the lizard to be
conscience stricken into stone.
An examination of the manuscript,
however, corrected the injustice to de.
fenceless nature. 1t was evidently of hu-
man origin-being verse, and of exceed.
ing bad quality. The editor laid it aside.
As he did so he thought he Saw face at
the window. Sallying out in some indig-
nation, he penetrated the surrounding
thicket in every direction, but his search
was as truitless as before. The poet, if it
were he, was gone.
a feW days after this the editorial Sc
cluslon was invaded by voices of alternate
eSpostuIAton and entreaty. Stepping to
the door, the editor was amazed at behold
ms, Mr.. Morgan McCorkle, a we'll known
citizen of Angelo, and subscriber to the
Record, in the act of urging, partly by
torce and partly by argument, an awkward
young man toward the building. When
he had finally effected his object, and, as
it were, safely landed his prize in chair,
Mr.. McCOrkle took off his hat, carefully
wiped the narrow Isthmus of forehead
which divided his black brows from his
stubby hair, and, with an explanatory
wave of his hand towards his reluctant
companion, said, "a borned poet, and the
cussedest fool you ever seedW
Accepting the editors smile as a recog
milton of the introduction, Mr.. McCorkle
painted and went on: didn't want to
come Mister Editor don't want to see
me, Morg,' SEE he. 'Milt,' sez I, he do;
a borned poet like you and gifted genius
like he oughter come together sOciableI
And fetched him. All, will yer?" The
born poet had, after exhibiting signs of
n 1icfr cd fn Int Mr.
McCorkle was down upon him instantly,
seizing him by his long linen coat and set
tied him back in his chair. "'Taint no
use sttmpeding. Yer ye are and yer ye
stays For yer borned pOet-ef ye are as
shy as a jackass rabbit. Look at i'm now"
He certainly was not an attractive pic
ture. There was hardly a notable feature
in his weak face, except his eyes, which
were moist and shy and not unlike the
animal to which Mr.. McCorkle had com
pared him. 1t was the face the editor had
seen at the window.
knowcd him for fower year-since he
war boy" continued Mr.. McCorkle in a
loud whisper. Alters the same, bless
you'll Can jerk rhyme as easy as turnin
jack. Never had any eddication; lived
out in MissOoray all his life. But he
chock full o poetry. Ony this mornin'
sell to him-he camps along o me--'Miltr
and answers back quite peart and chipper,
The breakfast it is ready, and the birds is
singing free, and it's risin' in the dawnin'
light is happiness TO met When a man."
said MIR. MCCOrkle, dropping his voice
with deep solemnty, gets off things like
them, without any call to do it, and hand
lin flapiacks over cOOk-stOVe at the same
timc-that mans borned poet"
= There was an awkward pause. Mr.
McCorkle beamed patronizingly ON his
prOtege. The born poet looked as if he
were meditating another flight-not
metaphorical one. The editor asked if he
could do anything for them.
"ln course you can" responded Mr..
McCorkle, that's jest it. Milt, where's
that pOetry?"
The editors countenance fell as the poet
produced from his pocket a roll of maui
script He, however, took il mechanically
and glanced over it. 1t was evidently
duplicate Of the former mysterious con
tTbution.
The editor then spoke briefly but earn,
estly. regret that cannot recall his ex-
act words, but it appeared that never be-
fore, in the history of the Record, had the
pressure been so great upon its columns.
Matters of paramount importance, deeply
affecting the material progress of Sierra,
questions touching the absolute integrity
OF Calaveras and Tuolumne as social cOm-
munities, were even now waiting express
sion. Weeks, nay, months, must elapse
before that pressure would be removed,
and the Record could grapple with any
but the sternest Of topics. Again, the
editor had noticed with pain the absolute
decline of poetry in the foot hills of the
Sierras. Even the works of Byron and
Moore attracted no attention in Dutch
Flat, and a prejudice seemed to exist
against Tennyson in Grass Valley But
the editor was not without hope for the
future. In the course of four or five years
when the country was settled
What would be the cost to print this
yerY" interrupted Mr.. McCorkle quietly.
about fifty dollars, as an advertise
ment," responded the editor with cheerful
alacrity.
Mr.. MoCockle placed the sum in the ed
itOr's hand "Yer see thet's what SEE to
Milti Milt,' SEE |, pay as you go, foryou
are horned poet. Havin' no call TO
write, but doin' it free and spontaneous
like, in course you pays. Thet's why Mis-
ter Editor never printed your poetry"
What name shall put to itS" asked
the editor.