The times., 1898-12-18
CURRENT VERSE.
Truthful jaime. End the kIond,k.

Truthful James end the KIOndikcF.
We woz sittin' free-,ke you and me-in our
camp on the Stanislow,
Round a Christmas fire of brcsh and briar stir
red up by pitch pine bough;
And Jones OF Yolo had finished his solo on Bill
sons prospectin pan,
And we all woz gay until jefferson Clay KEN in
with Klordike man
Now I most dspise low language and lics-as /
used to remark to Nye,
But the soul OF truth-though he was but a
youth-lookcd out of that strangers eye;
And the things he said had frequent read in the
papers down on ''the Bay"
And the words he choosed woz the kind wot's
used in the best theayter play.
He talked OF SHOWS and of whisky wot froze in
the solidest kind of chunk.
Which it took Just pound to go fairly around
when the boys had frstclass drunk:
And Of pork that was drilled and With dynamite
filled before it would yield TO blow,
For things will be strange when Thermometers
range to sixty degrees below
How they made soup of boots-which the oldest
best suits-and FRY" from dancin' shoe;
How in Yukon valley corps de bally might get
up fine "menoo,
But their regular fare when they'd nothin' to
spare aud had finished their final mule.
Was the harness leather, which with hides went
together, though the lat didn't count as a
rule.
Now all this s.sued true. and quite natural, too,
and then he spoke of the gold
And we all sot up and refled his cup, and this
is the yarn he told:
There Was gold IN heaps-but it's there it keeps,
and will keep till the Judgment Day,
For it's very rare that man gets ;here-and the
man that IS there must stay.
It's thousand miles by them Russian isles till
you come TO Fort Get There
(Which the same you no, if you'll look at the
sr.nf npf fhp ma rh1r ~ rrrid is h.ral
Then river begins that the Amazon skins and
the big Mississippi knocks out
For it's seventy miles Gross it's mouth when it
smiles, and-you're only begun your route
Here Bilson arose with keeriess-like pose, and
he gazed on that Klondike youth.
and he says: Pair sir, don't think | infer that
yonr words are not words of truth,
But I'D simply ask why-since that all men must
die-your spirit is wanderin here,
When At Dawson City-the more's the pity
you've bin froze up nigh year?"
'You needn't care-for I never was there said
that simple kondike man,
"fm company-hoater ard business promoter
and this il my little plan:
| show you the dangers TO which you st-ang-
eTs, and for sum you'll learn
| How you can expect us-as per this Prospectus-
10 insure your safe return"
Then Bilson stared, and he almost rared, but he
spoke in calm-like tone:
you'll excuse me for slyin' you're rather de-
layin' your chance to insure your ownI
For we're way-worn and weary, your style isn't
CHEEKY, we've lad quite enough of your
game
And what did affect us-he took that Prospectus,
and he ehueked it right into the flannel
Then our Christmas fire of bresh and briar flashed
up on the Stanislow,
And jefferson Clay softly away with that
youth with a downeast brow:
And Jones OF Noo repeated his solo on that still
calm evening air.
And thought with a shiver Of Yukon River
and the fort that was called Get There. -
Bret Harte, in the New York Journal.