The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1874-05-22
DICK BULLEN's RIDE.

"a metrical version OF baet Hartes How Santa
Claus came TO simpsons Bar.D
Twas Chrismiss at simpsons Bar!
read the story once somewhar,
Writ by "a chap, which his name was Harte,
About younester clipper and smart,
Took down with the fever and roomatiz,
Askin' his dad II he "think thar is
A man called Sandy Claws, wot kin
Go down chinbley, aud up agiu,
To I'LL the butes of little boys
With Chrismiss presents, such as toys"
Twas rather wet as the story runs.
Rann and porin' the biggest guns;
The valley flooded, and Rattlesnake creek
Quite onpassable all the week:
Up the river, the drowned out coolies;
The mail abandoned in the tules;
In gulch and river all work was quit,
With nothin' to do but chaw and spit.
Money was skarse, and every one blue,
On the eve OF Chrismiss, sixty-two.
The boys he'd all gathered in rhompson's store,
A listenin 10 the tempests roar,
As they sot with heels at an eevas.on, a. IA
And spit at the stove for conversashun.
when the 'old man" jest stepped in and sed
- Boys. don't ye think ye'd better he'd,
Ben as how it's Chrismiss eve,
Come over to my place? I'd as leave
Yed heva tar-round just for JOY,
And a little fun might liven the boy"
Dick Bullen stopped scrapin' his pipe to say:
"AIaybe might be in the way
For Johnuy's sick, old man, know,
Cause nary rock did he raise TO throw
From the bluff, at the Cinnamon thar last week,
Mhlcn Nuf urOWnued out from UP the 'itth
And know when Injun won't take whisky,
Or little kid, wot's been alters frisky,
Lets Cinnamon pass with nary lick,
Thars sUtitin' the matter-he Dtud De SckE
But ef We think az how we'd cheer him.
And how he'd like to have us near him,
And your wife won't go TO raisin Cain?
No. Well, here goes OTIS pourin rain y
For Pine Tree Canyon! But, say,
Old man, suppose you lead the way
That wife o. yourn, your second paTd.
Sometimes shes-well, "a triie hard
ON trash wot comes a raisin' HI
About the place when folks amt we'll.
They waited with backs agen the wall;
Joe Dimmick was sure he 'heerd a squall,"
When a child's shr voice at the door sed, Boys
Come ont the wet, aud don't make no noise !"
"Why, johnny" Dick lifted him up. "Hello!"
- Let go, you darned old tool; let go!
Dads in the kitchen talkin' to mar;
BE in in mint. Now, here you are;
Tnar 5 whisky, terbacker, red herrens, and cheese
And crackers and apples as much as We please,
But apples Amt healthy; they're awful swellin';
(I4ord hear tn old woman, the way she's yellin'D
Now, wade in, boys don't be afeard.
Bang thets the back door ye jest now heerd ;
She's gone for a passear, believe!
Did We know as how this was Chrismiss eve?
The night when old Sandy Claws plays his trick
Here's dad. TIn goin' TO turn in; I'm sick"
Aud the old man sed, Come, set up all;
Shes gone 20 McFadden's to make "a call"
At midnight the fun was runnin high,
When Johnny awoke with feeble cry;
ION, dad, come here come rub me quick!
shes achln agen LORD, ain I SICK.
Now rub right yer A.; no, not so high.
Now over yah. l believe I'll die
Thar, that feels better Now, dad, stay
Sit down and talk. Wots Chrismss day?
I can't git Sandy Claws out'r my head.
/ thought Jest now he WIS by the bed,
And he looked like somen seen b'fore.
Dad, take peep out that var door;
think the boys hev all went hum.
Wonder if Sandy Claws will comet"
Why, whar's the boys skedaddled to-?
Dick all alone why, tibet won't do:
What ails yer eyes they keep blinkin'
As if-oh pshaw jest WIS thinkin
That's all. My eyes amt very strong
Here comes the boys! I'm oH-slong!"
SO dad went back and took his place,
.Smotbin' the little fevered face;
Then tried TO talk in a womanish way
Bout Sandy Claws, God and Chrismiss Day.
Thar was scuflin' and chargn and trampin' out
side,
And Dick, from the door, as he orcied it wide,
Saw the boys with Jovits, tbs cussedest mare
Big, yaler and fiery, but heet as hare
- Now bows, am in Cor good fifty mile;
The mareu make IT, reckon in style;
Here goes then! look out thar. she's wshus a
Keep clar of heels, boys now then, stand fror
under,
All ready, Jovita! Hip, mula! G1ang GO!
If | amt back by five. why then, you may know
A plunge and spark from the ledge at his side,
Brave Dick VAS away on his perilous ride.
The old man started twas almost dawn;
A rap at the door, and there, forlorn,
Bedragged and bruised, and faintin' with pain,
From his ride over rver gulch. canyon and plain
With his arm hangin' shattered and limp at hi
side,
And some toys in his pack-the poor fruit of his rid
Through the tempest and darkness, unlit by
star