The Ketchikan miner., 1907-03-30
LOCALCURIOS

helCtllhdn WilO, WHeu Sie febiTeS, takes all her jewelry to bed with her she says her husband IS her only jewel.
 One of the Juneau editors has been looking into the political horo- scope, hoping to find out what Biyans chances for the presidency may be. He uses the kind that holds hall a quart, and it takes him just one minute and thirty seconds, by the watch, to find out how hollow the thing is.
 It is just like the fellow to kick because he doesn't get the paper, and only because he is laboring under a misapprenhesion as to the length of period for which he paid his sub scription. Roasting, and not without cause, of his superirity over Curio as pinochle manipulator, the would be subscriber handed Curio couple of plunks with the remark, ''here take this and send me your paper while the money lasts" The money didn't last till Curio got out of the room, and now the chap claims eight months subscription, and insists that he paid for that length of time but he didn't, by nearly a whole jugfull, which was really what his money paid for. -Curio is neither poet, nor the son of poet, and will not attempt to excuse the faulty measure of the verse in which he has translated, for good and valuable consideration, into sort of Siwash ldyl the rather prosaic. though altogether pathetically related lament of a sorrowful squaw- man of his acquaintance-fo the reason that he is quite certain he can offer no apology at all adequate to the offense:
 Not a great many years ago On an isle in this northern sea- Where they feed on salmon and her.
 ring roe I was a siwash maiden's $ only beau She loved and was loved by me. The name of the dusky maid was
 Salahootz, And she wore silk dresses and high
 gum boots. We lived serene in the native ranche, With dozen dogs or more, And had an old canoe in which to
 launch,
 With many dark hued olive
 branch, When we sailed from the odoriferous
 shore;
 They were all bow-legged, with
 blended eyes, Of as may colors as diamond dyes. The sun came up and the sun went A very large number of times, And shadows grew long on the
 mountains brown, Till church bells rang out their
 Christmas chimes,
 And foolish poets wrote rambling
 rhymes For weekly print in the white mans s
 town.
 But my Siwash maiden was true to In our odorous home by the sound-
 ing sea. But change over my scented rose
 when
 A Celestial chap by name Ah-Jim, Who wrought as cook for the cannery
 men, Led her love away, toward him Oh, then my trouble it did begin For he took away my Salahootz- Leaving only the blanket and old gum
 boots. But the scent of dried salmon fingers
 yet
 In the place where she used to be, And while life lasts l shall ne' CT
 forget
 How sweet the perfume to me, Nor the shilling kids on her knee, With legs just suited to crooked
 leg boots,
 Miniature images of lost Saiohootz. And now I sit by the smoky fire Through the day and twilight dim Nourishing only one fierce desire To build an elaborate funeral pyre- And to get just one chance at Jim To mangle and tear him limb from
 limb,
 And cook him well in copper pot, In the place where Salahootz was,
 but now is not. I have boiled the blankets and high
 gum boots,
 And seasoned them with tear: I have formed liking for civilized
 soups
 As something both rare and queer; And when the nights are dark and
 drear
 sit and mourn in seepulchral tones For chance to crush Celestial
 bones--
 T,,Ct Ora hoo,, I oo,.o, :, ab,oao C..