The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1899-03-30


Bret Harte in the Independent
We WOE sittiH free-like ez you and me-in
our camp on the Stanislow,
Round a roarin' fire of bresh and briar
stirred up by a pitch-pine bough,
And Jones of Yolo had finished his solo
on Bilson's prospectin' pan.
And we ali WOE gay until jefferson Clay
KEN in with Klondike man.
Now 1 most despise low language and
lies, as l used to remark to Nye,
But the soul of Truth-though he was
but a youth--looked out of that
strangers eye,
And the things he said 1 had frequent
read in the papers down on THE Bay"
And the words he choosed WOE the kind
wotS used in the best theayter play.
He talked of SHOWS, and of whisky wot
froze in the soldest kind of chunk,
Which it took just a pound to go fairly
around when the boys had a first
class drunk.
And of pork that was drilled and with
dynamite filled before it would yield
to blow,
For things will be strange when ther-
mometers range to 60 degrees below.
How they made soup of boots-which the
oldest best suits-and fry from a
dancin' shoe,
How in Yukon valley a corpse de bally
might get up a fine 'menoo."
But their regular fare when they'd moth
in to spare and had finished their
final mule
Was the harness leather which with hides
went together, though the last didn't
count as rule.
Now, all this seemed true, and quite nat
eral, too, and then he spoke of the
gold.
And we all sot up, and refilled his cup,
and this is the yarn he told:
There was gold in heaps-but it's there il
keeps, and will keep till judgment
day,
For it's very rare that a man gets there
and the man that is there must
stay!
It's thousand miles by them Russian
isles till you come 20 Fort Get
There"
(Which the same you are not if you'n
look at the spot on the map-that of
gold is bare,
Then a river begins that the Amazon
skins and the big Mississippi knocks
out,
For it's seventy miles cross it's mouth
when it smiles, and-you've only be-
gun your route.
Here Bilson arose with keerless-like pose
and he gazed on that Klondike youth
And he says: Fair sir, do you think I
infer that your words are not words
of truth,
But I'll simply ask why-since that all
men must die-your sperrit is wan
derin' here
When at Dawson City-the more's the
pity-you've been frozen up nigh a
year"
you need not care, for I never was
there" said that simple Klondike
man.
I'm a company floater and business pro-
moter and this is my little plan:
1 show you the dangers to which you are
strangers, and now for sum you'll
learn
What price you expect us-as per this
prospectus-to insure your safe re-
turn!"
Then Bilson stared, and he almost rared,
but he spoke in a calm-like tone:
you'll excuse me for sayin' you're rather
delayin' your chance TO insure your
own!
For we'r wayworn and weary, your style
isn't CHEEKY, we've had quite enough
of your game
But-what did affect us-he took that pros
pectus and chucked it right into the
flame!
Then our roarin' fire of bresh and briar
flashed UP on the Stanislow,
And Jefferson Clay went softly away with
that youth with a downcast brow.
And Jones of Yolo repeated his solo on
that still, calm evening air.
And we thought with a shiver of Yukon
river and the fort that was called
Get Thereg'