Mohave County miner., 1883-02-18
THE DONKEY.
A Cheerful, and Interesting Re Sume of His Many IunSte
 Virtues,
Denver News.l

l admire his perseverance. Some
 people call it obstinacy, but they
 take but a narrow view of the bur
 ro's character. They look at him
 through single barreled eye-glsss,
 [ have seen a burro work for hours
 to get his foot stuck in tomato can. When he succeeded I have known
 him to go miles out of the way, in
 the darkness of midnight, to wake up some drowsy prospector with its melancholy tintinabulation. 1 have known him to come back repeatedly with his serenade, although he had not been encored and no floral offer ings had been received. l have seen him crawl under the projecting bed of railroad wagon and strain every nerve to boost it off the road. True, he did not succeed in his main de- sire, but he did everlastingly smash two coffee pots and destroy the con- tinuity of his owners bedding.
 have seen him desert bundle of hay to go away and munch cactus and gravel. He couldn't get the same amount of nourishment from the latter in the same space of time, but he scorned to be influenced by such consideration.
 I respect his digestive apparatus. One day l stood on mountain side with a dyspeptic from Greeley who for years had eaten nothing but graham bread and cracked wheat. We were watching a burro feed. As the animal slowly and conscientious ly chewed up the four and gunny sacks, got away with the salt bags and ham covers, gathered in brown paper and old socks, and finally tackled a large sized ssrdine box, the tears welled up in the eyes of the Greeley man and in 8 husky voice he said: Gracious, if I could only do that"
 I worship the intellect of the bur 70. He can not be humbugged. He knows when he is within clubbing distance and when he is not you can yell at him till you are black in the face, but he won't move. Some of the incidents that at test his sagacity are almost marvellous. I was once sitting on soft sandstone boulder in the little town of ~C-. Down the meandering street came old Skip ton, driving before him one of the most remarkable looking jacks l ever saw. Tn the rqggedness of his phys ical composition he was almost scenic. Half of his left ear was gone and numerous clear places on his hide made it apparent that he was addicted to the hot bath.
 Where did you get that wreck, Skip?" I asked.
 "Wreck?" he replied scornfully; "Why you tenderfoot, that's Henry Ward Beecher. He's the father of his country and he's got more brain power than any jack in this State"
 "Intellectual, is he?" inquired.
 "Well, should blush! Why, I'll just tell you a little act he did yes terday, We was working up on the High Hopes, ms and Jim Atkin- son. my partner, and we got to feels ing little peckish along about noon, and I went up to the shanty to fire up. We'll, Jim he was sacking up a few pounds of ore to have sampled, and Ii. Ward vas standing by, and somehow Jim he slipped and fell into the shaft, but he caught on the bucket and she commenced flying down like thunder, and the shaft was 1sar onto one hundred feet. We'll, what did Bescher do? Why, he knew that it wouldn't do to try apd catch the handle, so he just backed ap against the Wipdlass and held hard till he stopped her, and saved Jim's life: that's what he did, and I'll take my para'yzed oath on it, and so'll Jim. See where it took the skin of his haunches?'
 The cuticle was evidently gone, and Skip looked most solemnly in earnest. l could not doubt him. We went across the street and Skip took little ginger in his.
 ATTENTION, BALD HEADS!