Year: 1871

BILL MAsoPs BRIDE.
Half an hour till train time. sir,


An fearful dark night, too,


Take a look at the switch-lSghtS, Tom,


Fetch q stick when you're through.
s0n timei' well, yes, guess So
She'll come round the curse a flynn
Bill Mason comes up tonight.
You known Bill No He's engineer:
Been on the road all his life
I'll never forget the mornln'


He married his chnck of a wife.
Twas the summer the mill-hands struck
- Just OF work, every one;


- They kicked up a row in the village,
And killed old DonOvan's SON.
Bill llhadn't been married MORN an hour,
- Up comes message from Kress "a
Orderin' Bill to go up there fIel 1Hz
And bring down the night express, J.,


He left his gal in a hurry,


And went up on number one, ~ sg5F
Thinking of nothing but Mary
| And the train he had to run


And Mary sat by the window
To wait for the night express,
And. sir, If she hadn't a. done so
she'd heen widow, guess. "a
For it must a been nigh midnight
When them mili-handS leitthe Ridge
They come doTn-the drunken devils l.
| Tore up rail from the bridge.
But Mary heard 'enA a working.
| And guessed there was somethin' wrong
| And in less than fifteen minutes ~
Bill's train it would be alongi
| .- She couldn't a. come here to tell us,
I - A mile-It wouldn't a. done
So she jest grabbed up lantern
And made for the bridge alone.
Thea down came the night express, sir,
And Bill was maxim her climbi
But Mary held the lantern, s9lE
A swingin it all the time.


Well by Jove Bill saw the signal, =
And he stopped the night express rI
And he found his Mary crying
On the track in her weddin' dress aA
Cryin an laughin' for joy, sir,
And holdin' on to tho light


Hello here's the train-good- bye, sir,
Bill Mason's on time tonight sfl iJE
L ~
lr MARK TWAIN.


The 0ld-Ttme Poney Express of the Great


44E Plains. ivy z


From Mark Twain's Forthcoming Book.


However, in little while all inter-
est was taken up in stretching our
necks and watching for the "pony
rider, ,D-the fleet messenger who sped
across the continent from st. Joe to
Sacramento, carrying letters nineteen
hundred miles III eight days. Think
of that for perishable horse and hu-
man flesh and blood to do! The pony
rider was usually little bit of a man.
brim full of spirit and endurance. No
matter what time of day or night his
watch came on, and no matter whether
it was winter or summer, or whether
his beat" was a level, straight road
or a crazy trail, over mountain .crags
and precipices, or whether it led
through peaceful regions or regions
that swarmed with hostile Indians, he
must be always ready to leap into the
saddle and be off like the wind. There
was no idling time for a pony rider
on duty, He rode forty miles with
out stopping, by daylight, moonlight,
starlight or through the blackness of
darkness, just as it happened. He
rode splendid horse that was born
for racer, and fed and lodged like a
gentleman, kept at his utmost speed
for ten miles, and then, as he came
crashing up to the stable, where stood
two men holding a fresh, impatient
steed, the transfer of rider and mail
bag was made in a twinkling OF an
eye, and away flew the eager pair, and
were out of sight before the specta-
tors could hardly get the ghost of a
look. The riders dress was thin and
fitted close he wore a roundabout"
and skull cap" and tucked his
pantaloons into his boot tops, like a
race rider. He carried no arms-he
carried nothing that was not absolute
ly necessary, for even his postage on
his literary freight was worth two
dollars an ounce. He got but little
frivolous correspondence to carry !;
his bag had business letters in it most
fy. His horse was stripped of all un-
necessary weight too. He wore lit
tie wafer of a racing saddle, and no
visible blanket. He wore light shoes,
or none at all. The little fat mail
pockets, strapped under the riders
thighs, would each hold about the bulk
OF child's primer. They held many
and many an important business chap
ter and newspaper letter. But these
were wrote on paper as airy and thin
as gold leaf nearly, and thus bulk and
weight were secenomized. The stage
coach travelled about hundred to a
hundred and twenty-five miles day
(twenty-four hours,) the pony rider
about two hundred and fifty. There
were about eighty pony riders in the
saddle all the time, night and day,
stretching in long scattering process
sion from Missouri to California-forty
flying eastward and forty toward the
West, and among them, making four
hundred gallant horses earning STIR
ring livelihood, and see deal of seem
cry every day in the year. 90 20


We had had a consuming desire
from the beginning to see pony rider
but somehow all that passed us and all
that met us, managed to- streak by in
the night, and SO we only heard a
whlz and a hail, and the swift phantom
of the desert was gone before we could
get our heads out of the windows
But now we were expecting one along
every moment, and would see him in
broad daylight. Presently the driver
exclaimed: G ei -s-.sc@ .ei


" Here he comes p 81;


Every neck is stretched farther, and
every eye strained wider. Away across
the endless dead level of the prairie
black speck appears against the sky,
and it is plain that it moves. Well 1
should think so. In a second or two
it becomes horse and rider, rising
and falling-sweeping toward us
nearer and nearer-growing more
sharply defned-nearer and nearer,
and the flutter of the hoofs comes
family to the ear-another instant
whoop and hurrah from our upper
deck, wave of the riders hand but
no reply, and man and horse burst
past our excited faces, and go wing
ing away like belated fragment of
storm.


So sudden is it all, and so like flash
of unreal fancy, that, but for the flake
of white foam left quivering and per-
ishing on a mail sack, after the vision
had flashed by and disappeared, we
might have doubted whether we had
seen any actual horse and man at all,
may be.