Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-10-19
''Lsnd that the sunset washes,
Till its dust is turned to gold,
And its sea of years were laden
With b0pas 0f tho VOuner and old

And its sea OF years were laden
With hopes of the young and old"
Sam, on landing, could not find work as
easily as he expected in this Golden West
Friendless, sullen, and lazy, the term that
had CALLED his soul seemed well applied;
but soon finding that no work meant star
walton, he sought and obtained work in
the Scorpion Gulch mines. He soon caught
the contagion of the goldseeker, and after
few months he had learned to work we'll
and hard. He had never a word from his
old home in Connecticut, nor never word
went from the West to the East from him.
He was as one dead, and his old haunts
knew him no more, yet the old stubborn
pride was not quelled.
The years passed, and now each succeed
ing one was adding SHOWS of winters age
to his once dark hair. Then, and only
then, did his yearning for old scenes and
old time friends make him regret his hasty
step of long ago.
In these long years of toll his proud
spirit was somewhat broken; | say some
what, for he was too proud to return. II
am and amt no prodigal," he would say
to himself. 81 amt a-going back. Pre-
sumo likely amt SIGH shiftless coot now
as | was then"
No, Sam had really worked hard, and
saved, and skimped, and now a nice sum in
the Hibernia Bank and some safe invest
ments testified to his change Of character.
At the present time he was working at
Glen Ellen Springs COLONIZATION Works.
The springs were resort for those in
search Of health, and the mines and works
furnished employment for many.
Sam had built a comfortable cabin on
the sidehill opposite the works, and here
he and his dog Jock lived peaceful if not
happy life. Jock was the recipient Of
many confidence in the cleaning, when
the days labor was over and Sam smoked
and talked to his dog, who would prick up
his ears and whine an answer. The days
that he drew his pay, and then fastened up
securely to send by express the sum to be
deposited in the bank, he would say ::
"Jock, my dog, what would Umily say to
all this? Call me a coot ? No, Stree
Presume likely she would not. Likely
she would say wal, Sam, l want to know;
is all that yonrnr"
Then Jock would look knowing and whine
softly an assent, and Sam would repeat:
"What would Unity say?' and chuckle to
himself, and then heave sorrowful sigh
for the past.
1t was fine pleasant evening in May,
and Sam sat smoking his pipe, looking
down the thickly wooded ravine, where
starry white blossoms of the dogwood
showed in relief against the dark back
ground of pine boughs. The oak trees
were in their new summer robes of glossy
green; the air was warm and redolent
with sweet spring odors. Sans tall worn,
wrinkled face took softer, kinder express
sion, as he took his pipe from his mouth
and murmured: "Umily, Unity; ! wish |
had not been SO fiery. Maybe she's dead,
or -wus yet, married." he continued. "Oh,
Lord-a-mercy me! Well, Jock, my dog"
turning to the faithful creature, "Umily
was terrible onsartin and onery at times,
but she warn't shiftless. never, winter
or summer, like me-" and he sighed and
replaced his pipe for one Whit, then con-
tinued, Maybe she's got religion. Well,
out here, if she was here, she would have
no use for it, except at funerals. Religion
goes in streaks, SO to speak, and funerals is
one time out here when it's needed" But
one time, when one poor mortal, discour-