Pioche daily record. [volume] (Pioche, Nev.) 1872-1876, 1875-11-19

luz iiteE inat stretches away like sill
very thread under mosquito bar, wind
ing in wooded hooks and creeping
through low-lying islands where the
hslmy breezs is redolent with the odor
of dead leaves and dead fish. Oh lovely
haze, what dreams of soulful tenderness
its name recalls. Oh, musty hays in
the street-car; oh hays that used to be
full OF humble bees; oh, hazel nuts or
another mans farm with big dog hid
in the patch. Away, these memories are
too painful.
Affair.", the hillsides glitter in gold and
scarlet, aud the sumach bushes, climbing
the slope with their nodding plumes look
like new express wagon coming down
Division street. The mellow air brings
into the city the rustic of fallen leaves
piled deep on winding cow paths, thread
ing through quiet dells, aud winding
along the side OF pulring brooks. 1t
brings an odor OF something old. Be-
cause it blows over Happy Hollow.
How faint and far on every sound.
The ghosts of the dead Summer flowers
sig hin every breeze, and the phantom Of
the cow that butted tue freight train
tinkles her drowsy bill affair. And in
the mutfied tenderness, as a falling star
might drop on feather bed, We hear the
teamster's CHEEKY call, Cup! ye gaul
dinged lop cared spawn, r I'll lam the
hair off ye with dray pin" And the
muffied creek of the wood wagon plain
lively on tho ear. Five dollars cord
and only cut three feet long at that. and
piled so that when you go to measure ii
you can throw a felt hat through the
pile any place and never touch stick.
List to the plaintive piping of the quail
in the stubble. Alb, quail on toast. and
tho plaintive piping of the anxious waiter
for seventy-five cents. Avaunt, dull do
tard, take thy black shadow from the
fairy scene. This remark was addressed
to the waiter, and not to the quail on
toast. t..
Why, in these dreamy dark autumnal
days-we don't know what kind of a
day dark day is, but we wanted another
word that begins with d, and could only
think of dark and another one, aud the
other one wouldn't do at all-these kind
of days then bring with them sad-a
sad-sad. sad something, we knew what
it was when we started ont; but stopping
to explain about that dark knocked it
clear out OF our head; sad-it isn't sad
die, nor Saducee, nor-ah, yes, yes, now
we have it. These dreary DAYS that
come like tender poem, yelled in the
delicate drapery that hangs over the dis
tant landscape, bring with them
No, sir, this is not the tobacco factory;
it's the next building up the street
Thank heaven he's gone.
Bring the sad yearning OF restless
heart that reaches out amid the hectic
Pushes of the dying year, rs it would
clasp the
No ma am, We don't want to buy the
Centennial Gift Book for Young Ladies
no, we have no friends of any kind; we
have no sisters, or brothers, or relations
We have no money, We have no literary
taste, we have no desire to read any.
thing; we can't read, and we don't
know anybody who can.
Among the hectic fiushes of the DIV.
ing year. as though it would clasp
Have no use for fly-trap, sir; dom
keep house; amt married; don't expect tc
be; haven't seen q fly in Iowa for thou,
sand years.
a
tbonobM " ''' ''i's '"' &c
No, no, no. this is not the barber
shop. No, don't know where the bar.
there are no ba,bsrs in Rnr,;na,on ~ ,h N
nearest barber sbon ia at ,ha nerth no 'h'
No air Won nsadp,t anoloo;ns e''n va po az,
mot annnyed Good aiternnnn air
Amid the diving finishes Of the hoo,;,
| war whose rr,.os til, an sa;,,ti,
that " '"'''-
No IVA DOM want an, woraors,
saponifler. Dirt gEradicstor for IN
Toilat and T,s,ndry No VIZ boro -
family and we neyer wash, mavar haar
Of sncb a thing ma a hath. don,t .ant :,
he clean: never shave never CLAN on
nails and bave nm tha soma sh;rt -,