The Placer herald., 1872-03-09

/ said, "Wnlter, | rather fear
If / should tell of who lived here
1t would not help our hearts to cheer
As we SO on our way"
"Some hermit, suppose?"
"The same" quick replied;
"And here, among these ragged clothes,
He made his bed and took repose;
l wonder if there's one who knows
How and when he died?"
"Of that there is no doubt"
To Mr.. Jones said;
"The old man was not seen about
(Though it was seldom he went out)
A neighbor anxious to find out
The cause, went to his bed.
+ He found him there, quite i'll,
Though willing, he, to die,
His fire was out; mortal chill
Had seized the dweler of the hill;
His few words were, mo eyes will fill
With tears; none left to cry"
So sick, he needed care,
But none were found who'd stay
Alone within those walls so bare,
For nothing in the room was there
But dirt and filth. 80 they sought where
To take the man away.
To the hospital hard by
They took him, all forlorn,
But none was there who heaved sigh,
No tear-drop stole across the eye,
When it was said that he must die
Before the coming morn.
When morn broke forth at last,
A stiffened corpse he lay.
All sutfring now with him, was past,
No clarion cn,,n1 M ta,nv,oct'c h1oct
Could wake him from his sleep 30 fast
Until the final day.
And thus old Bunker died
For Bunker was his name.
In later years he hard had tried
TIC shut out all vain hopes and pride,
But to no one did he confde
His tale of woe or shame"
My friend here said to me:
i've heard such tales before.
In youth the mind is light and free,
And full of life, as oft you sec,
But disappointments smites the tree
OF life, and life's no more"
We now had reached the town
Where each took his own way;
to my room and sat me down,
But thoughts of Bunkor filled my crown
pOillt CIltlc Gi tltS WOItt Eld1 lIOWu,
To such my mind I'll say.
Why my thoughts thus should dwell
l do not care to know;
But this one fact we all knew well,
That once his breast did heave and swell
With love and fear. I sought to tell
The cause of all his woe.
Why mana human mind
Should be reduced so low;
Should leave his kindred all behind
Should cease to think Of sisters kind;
Should to the world turn deaf and blind,
l should be glad to know.
If you could see his place,
Then you would better know
The life he lived the low disgrace
He was to this, or any, race;
And if you will allow the space,
His home III try to show.
Beside little mound
He dug the ground away.
And there with rocks, which lay around,
And which were here in plenty found,
He built wall upon the ground
And covered it this way:
The rafters were of pine
Some might have been oak stakes
Across these straight, without line,
He tackled some boards, these were of pine,
And then upon these Stats did climb,
And lay his crooked shakes,
The roof now all complete,
A chimney S his next care.
The old man here performed a feat
Quite rare for him, for it was neat
And made to throw out light and heat,
So lamps with him were rare.
No furniture had he
Save one old rustic stool
There was no bed that l could see
Except some rags mid which the flea.
And bugs, and lice had roamed quite free,
In days when not too cool,
His spit was an old pan;
No knives and forks were there,
His coffee-pot a square lard can,
His table of the ancient plan;
He was, IN short, a Natures man,
And used no crockeryware.
His tools were also few
At least but few I found
Axe. chsel, saw-the last were two
Pick, shovel, pan, all far from new,
In fact, they were quite rusted through
With lying on the ground.
Besides his tools and ware
He'd rubbish by the pile;
Indeed, l think twould make you stare
To see the trash he d gathered there;
For when the sun shone bright and fair
He thus did time beguile.
I'll name some of these things
Which now may there be found:
Rags, boots, shoes, straps and iron rings,
Tin, slaves and buckets, hoops and springs
Besides a hundred other things
Lie scattered all around.
For ten years he did dwell
Alone in this old den;
To none he spoke, to none he'd tell
II withered hopes, OF magic spell
Had caused him thus his life to sell
Al 1r.kl an