Year: 1874

Office to do it, but-the devil trust YOU
You might refer the readers of the JOUR
NAL to my letters for more or less ''blow'
and tell 'em to figure for themselves. No,
sir-e-e You can't play that pup on me
for a shepherd dog-I prefer to take
Georges figures. Well, this is dull, SOL
emn, menotonous Sabbath in the mines.
How times have changed. Twenty years
ago we never had dull Sabbaths in the
mines. said times had changed, so
have the miners. In early times, ten or
dozen men could work together and all
live in the same cabin and not grum-
BILE or growl from anybody. Everything
was cheerful from morning till night,
and whoever needed help was sure to get
1T from the open-hearted and generous
miners, who seemed glad to have it in
'heir power to help their more unfortu-
nate fellows. do not say tn at the min
ers of to-day are less generous than then,
but pass up and down this river for in
stance and see cabin after cabin ith only
an occupant. 1t strikes you in a moment
that something is out ofjoint. The facts
are that continued ill-luck has made the
miners as crusty and snappish as an old
bear with sore head, as the saying is.
| can recollect back to 80. think it
was nine of us lived In little hut not
larger than one miner would want now,
and seemed to have room enough, at least
never heard any complaint-in fact,
things went on swimmingly--all was
peace, and never man lost an opportu-
nifty to crack a joke or play prank, and
no one in the lot was ever known to get
angry. We had an old saint-like bach
elor in the mess that had gal in the
States and was corresponding with her
regularly by mail when, as all old Cali
fornians recollect, it was to and from the
Atlantic States only once month. Old
Bach. had his own pen, ink, paper and
little stand, and as he had from five to
six weeks to answer his letters, was in
the habit of writing line or two each
day, and as no one ever disturbed his fix
lures the letter was generally left open
on the desk. When the mail arrived of
course every miner in the country went
to the postoffice. Our old Bach. was the
first off that morning and in his hurry
forgot his letter. Seeing this, the boys,
when the balance of US started thought
it best to fold up and take the old fell
lows letter along, knowing we would see
him at the postoffice. The temptation
was too great for us. We read tho letter
through. Oh! syrup and honey wasn't
it sweet. The old man was in the habit
of leaving an undue amount of space
between his words. We thought it a
shame to waste so much gilt-edged, high
ly-cologned paper, and so filled it up for
him. When we got through, it read
somewhat this way; "My ducky dar-
ling Sarah-I start for home this June
in horn. viii clasp you in my arms in
August-in a horn-which will be the
happiest hour Of my lfe-in horn. And
then we can set the time for our we'd
dine-in horn" We folded the letter
in shp-shape, sealed, and one of the
boys who had always addressed his let
ters for him backed it, and we started for
the postoflice. On the road we met Bach.
returning for his letter. Our scribe, as
we called him, said it was all right know
ing he had forgotten it, folded it up, ad
| 1rncea1 II and hronnbt - o1o nlI
Bach was thankful, stood treat in town,
got his letter in the office in time, and
felt happy generally. l left there soon
after without ever knowing whether old
Bach. went home "in horn" or net,
but thought if he did some explanation
would be demanded.


Lonesome as l am to-day and all alone,
my mind will wander back to those good
old days. | often think of some of my
old partners, and / have had more than
any other man in the State. have just
been thinking of one l had years ago
who, for oddities and eccentricities, rich
ly deserved the belt. Well, we were not
partners in mining. His claim and mine
were some distance apart, but we lived
together in the same cabin. He worked
his claim day and night, that is, he
sluiced through the day ard then spent
the night in cursing it because it paid no
better. His motto was to boom things
through, no matter what broke or gave
way. His claim looked like q 40 emf
grant trail; lumber, picks, shovels broken
into fragments were lying all over his
claim in heaps. He always cleaned his
gold dust on Sunday. His plan was this:
to put the dust in teacup, fill it up with
aqua fortis and stir the contents with his
finger. Now, this is little difficult to
do. Something like woman trying to
light match miner fashion. But it skin
be did," to be sure. The acid niggered
off a finger or two at the first and second
joints, but that was his way Of cleaning
dust, and id if he threw up the
sponge to aqua forts even. He kicked
a boulder one day and stove his toes away
out of sight. He asked me TO go and
bring the doctor. started, and as he
was troubled with tremendous big feet,
/ brought the County Surveyor along to
survey. He said if those toes were ever
brought to the surface again the most d.
rect by ten inches and the only feasible
route was to bring them out at the other
end-the other end of the foot, I mean.
The M. d. thought SO, too, and directed
unguentum coax 'em " to his heel three
times a day, and in short time sure
enough he coaxed them out at the other