Year: 1872

| thing has inspired the Governor, and how

 He Bursts Forth into Song.

 Did you ever hear him sing? While memory holds her seat I shall never forget how he woke the echoes in those grand old mountains. The critic sometimes has painful duty to perform and while ill this instance it is remembered that few can sing with equal power and pathos Gf that spells vengeance) on the high notes, yet we would give g. word of caution to the Governor that he devote some of his unspent energy on the low ones. And just another word in regard to what seems to be his standard piece. think l may call it his standard piece, for he was never known to vary from it but once during our entire trip. though of recent composition, yet 1t contains reflections not of the most agreeable character. That it may appear however not to be work of persecution on my part, I quote the song entire. I am sure 1t is entire, for around the camp fire in the early morning, in the midday, in sunshine and in storm (for it did rain once), did the Governor sing:

 "Oh, he that hath good peanuts And wont give his neighbors none,

 Shant have any of my peanuts, When his peanuts are gone." Just ask him to sing 1t for you some time if you want to know what pure enjoyment is. We camp four miles from the ancient city of Santa Cruz. We lunch. We load the doctor on his white mule, whose ears are of such magnitude and of such hlexibility that he VOWS it made him sea sick to ride behind them, and our pack train master affirms 1t to be his belief that if they were hung only a little further back, the animal could fly.

 As They Did it 1900 Years Ago.

 Be this as it may, we are off and soon pass over the Mexican line to find in the fields close by the border of the river, Mexicans blowing with that same style of implement we are taught they used 1,S00 years ago--a crock ked stick hitched in the same way they did it 1,S0O years ago, viz : to. the horns of cattle whose vertical heads are painfully suggestive of stiff necks. And as we ride into town we see the women, decendents they must be of Rebecca, for their custom can- not have changed much since she led the fashion-and verify there are also the water pots on their heads. Santa Cruz.

 In town, and oh, what town A few pigs chained by their legs, yellow and so thin, with their phantom piglets looking fearfully old for their months-and so hungry; while dogs run loose. A few very lazy Mex jeans (perhaps I should have spoken of them frst) sitting around their tumble down looking mud huts-and you have picture of city whose glory, if it ever had any, has depart ed. But poor Mexicans, between their own ccuntry's wars and marauding Indians, we cannot wonder that they are and look tired out. We made a raise of nine this years eggs and are back in camp satisfied with Amer ica.

 Tuesday, May 7-Leave camp early. Journey upssout of the Santa Cruz valley in northeast direction. Weather cool, with high winds-rain- ed little during the night. Cross several Apache trails.

 A Put Up Job.

 Wednesday, May S-Fresh coat of war paint on Emanuel. Good break fast and we are off-after the only variation the Governor gave US from his standard song; and the event was deeply impressed upon us, as he gave in thrilling manner:

 "Oh, feel, feel like a morning star"

 Further comment is unwise as well as unnecessary. We are soon among the foot hills of the grand old Hua- chuca mountains. There is confer ence between the Governor and Eman- uel. The Governor points the index finger of his right hand significantly at me from the side of Emanuel. " Bueno, bueno;" I hear him say,