The Londonderry sifter. (South Londonderry, Vt.) 1883-19??, 1897-10-22
"PYRITES SAM"
BY E. E. BOWLEs.
OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES

u
w fool the very day he struck the
ramp, but were not absolutely certain
until the night he came in with his
pockets full of pyrites of iron, and, TAX
ing each man aside, privately informed
him, with many injunctions as to Sc
crecy, that he had discovered and To-
Gated brass mine. AS rule, we had
grown very tired of initiating every
tenderfoot that came along into the
mysteries of quartz mining, showing
them the difference between gold-bear-
ing quartz and country rock; between
true assure and contact vein; between
granite, porphyry, schist, spar, serpen-
tine. quartzite, etc.; of trends, dips,
spurs. angles, etc.; of shafts, tunnels,
slopes, wines and drifts; of the manip-
ulation of the horn spoon or gold pan;
how to distinguish the resultant sedi-
ment, if gold, from mica, pyrites or sui
phurets; in a word, teaching them in
an hour or two all we had learned after
years of toll and privation. We had
reached this stage Of the 'tired feel
ing" when Sam brought in his brass"
specimens, and not man of us would
tell him what it was. "Uh-huh," we
said, as he carefully exhibited his de-
eptive-looking find. What did we
think of it? Why, it was a great find,
and very high-grade ore-if it was
brass. "f"-why of course it was
brass; look at it; anybody could see
what 1t was. We admitted that they
could; yes, anybody that knew any,
thing at all. So we permitted Sam to
We / away in ignorance of his claim
for two weeks-until he received re-
turns from the samples sent to Los
Angeles for assay. Then the Brass
Monkey" as Sam called it, shut down,
and he went to prospecting again.
He was so persistent and industrious
in his determination to "strike it rich"
that we finally began to have fellow
feeling for him and to appreciate his
pluck; sympathy he did not need. He
was jolly and good-natured, and did not
drink to excess, and was never known to
turn card for money. In friendly
game in his tent the suggestion of
draw" at only dollar limit was al
ways met by the quiet statement that
he never played for money, that he was
raised differently, and, besides, his
money came so hard" that he knew he
would be bad loser. He was always
ready with his sympathy when an
others ledge ''pinched," "petered" or
broke off" and encouraged him all he
could; always had song or story for
bad night, and in the event of sickness
or injury had some simple remedy in
the way of poultice that his mother
used to use.' In fact, he was one of
those -go-lucky, light-hearted
/ fellows, handy about camp, and friend
to everybody, but one could not get
rid of the impression that he didn't
lowed" Therefore, it was accepted as
matter of course, when tenderfoot
struck camp one day in the first stages
of desert fever, that Sam should take
entire charge of him and dose him
with wild sage and "squaw" tea and
concoct appetizing dishes with bacon,
beans, rice and flour.
AS a "stayer," malarial or chagres fe-
yer is not to be compared to desert fe-
yer. The latter drags along and hangs
on day after day, week after week, and,
although the patient may be able to
crawl about, he is weak, debilitated and
nerveless, and don't care a rattle out
of the box" whether he lives or dies.
This was the condition of that tender
foot. During the middle of the day
he dragged himself about the camp
in the sun, but the remainder of the
time he spent in his bunk in his tent.
One night, when most of the boys were
assembled in the Bedrock" Sam came
in, and, going up to the bar, drank
alone, contrary to his usual custom,
then turned his back on the crowd,
leaned his elbow on the bar and gazed
out into darkness, at the same time
twisting his mustache fiercely as If
worrying over something.
whats wrong, Sam? Patient dead?"
some one asked.
NO" said Sam, but he's layin' up
there wishin' he was. | tell you, pard-
ners," he continued, turning to the
crowd, I've been in hard luck myself
-so've all of us, guess-an' seen 9th
ers in hard luck, but that poor cuss up
there's in the hardest streak of luck
ever see. He's plum down to bedrock
an' nary color"
That's nothin', Sam; we've all been
there many time. What's the matter,
out of grub?"
Nav, he amt out of grub, an won't
be as longs Sans got any; but it's
somebody else. got letter for him
to-day on the stage an took it down
to him. After he read it he jest turned
over with his back to me an laid quiet,
but purity soon | shifted to where
could see his face, an I'll be derned if
he wasn't cryin', yes, sir, cryin' like a
baby, he's that weak, you know. says
to him easy like: WHAT'S the matter,
pard?'
'Nothin',' he says, only more hard
!uck.'
Girl gone back on you" l said,
thinkin' to be cheerful an maxim up
ny mind to josh him.
NO, he says; 1T 'ud a-been better
or her if she had long go. Read that,
e says, an handed me this" concluded
am, and he drew letter from his
ocket. 1t was dated from an Ohio viii
ge and read as follows:
My Own Dear Husband: Your loving
ter received yesterday. but it found us
!. SO downhearted and wishing for papa
'ear husband It seems that our troubles
ill never end. Mr. Rhoades has changed
IS mind and will forecfose the mortgage
ou know he said before you went away
vat If we paid the interest up he would lie,
) stand awhile longer. Well, when the
iurtgage was due sold the COW and took
me of the money you left me to live or
nd paid the six months back interest
tow. he says, as the mortgage Is due he