The Albany register. [volume] (Albany, Or.) 1868-18??, 1873-04-04
At t,.e foot OF (sentries' Trail.

When | wasat Hazard, my room
mate and bosom friend was Charley
Despard. lie was Of very good
family, but not very well off, and
when our college career was COR
cluded, and | took my seat in
Bates 6 Blog's office to court the
Goddess Themis, he went of to
push his fortune in the Golden
State.
Charley was q queer sort of a
fellow-capable of great exertlon,
but deplorably lazy, always making
good resolutions, and never carry
ing them into execution; without
an atom of vice in his constitution,
and yet always getting into scrapes.
After he went to California, we
corresponded pretty regularly, and
from his letters | learned that he
was experimenting in a new busi-
ness every other week. Now he
was in a soft goods store in San
Francisco; then he ran paper in
Denver; then he drove a stage be-
tween Auburn and Forrest Hill;
then he was billiard maker in San
Francisco; and finally he told me
he was in for big thing in gold
mines at Green Flat, and inclosed
his photograph to show how he
looked in his working clothes. |
could scarcely recognize my nstty
friend OF former days III the lanKy
figure pictured on the card board.
A slouch cap perched on the back
of his head, a wisp of handkerchief
tied around his neck, while hirsute
appendages of Samsonic dimensions
covered and encircled the place
where his face ought to have been.
But his big eyes were there, look
ing out Just as true and honest as
ever, aud SO knew it was Char.ey,
even though he did wear big boots,
and carried b six shooter slung ct
his side.
He stuck to the mines all Spring
aud Summer, and his letters were
full of hope and radiant with sue
cess, until at once they stopped
suddenly, and nothing more was
heard Of him. was wondering
what had become OF him whether
he had come to grief and was
ashamed to write me bad news, or
whether a worse fate had overtaken
him in the wilds OF the far West,
and made inquiries OF some Of his
friends, but none of them could tell
me anything about him, SO | was
fain to sit still hoping against hope
that he would turn up.
One evening | was all alone in
my room, watching the tlickering
light OF the fire play over each
familiar article OF furniture, tDo lazy
to get up from q chair to light the
gas, when ! heard a violent ring
at the door, and presently figure
stood in the doorway. At first |
did not recognize my old chum, but
when | heard the accents Of his
voice my tears and doubts all faded
away, and | welcomed him as one
come back from the dead.
"Why, Charley, is that you ?
Where have you been? When did
you get to the town2 How's things
in general??"
"Yes, it is me. Got in from
California this morning. Things is
Grst-rate."
"Why, what q swell you are.
Why didn't you come right here !?
Wher. have you been? / know
there's something up"
"Guess you're about right Hit
it thar, pard. You bet"
And then he relapsed into silence,
and demolished a lavender kid
glove in trying to take it off.
"What's up, Old man? Let's
have it. Go ahead"
"Well, | amt right sure what's /
up. l've struck a lead, and it
looked no end Of good, and now ,
when | take the dust to the store
it won't SELL"
"Please to interpret; and bear ID
mind that | am not SO learned in
mining lingo as yon are" |