Year: 1872

the balance of the boys would simply say that Bill had "Gone m." But in |" Gods country it is almost safe to say that majority of parents would not hesitate to tell the passer-by that the dear boy had gone to glory in one act, though they had much rather he had remained in this dirty world and grown up and split rails on the farm, or conferred the additional honor upon the family of teaching country school and boarding round. Hence the authors of the following epitaph are not altogether explicit in stating facts: They sort of imply that MT. Hays "Pike county" poetry was eminently truthful as well, and that there may be hosts of angels great and small simplv "lonfin' around the Throne" when they would be in "a darn sight better business looking after the lambs of the earthly sort; or as Bil- lings has it, getting up at ? in the morning, etc. But

 "We can't always have everything to

 please us,

 For our little Johnny has gone to Jesus" Of course, here was an opening for some budding poet of more skeptical turn of mind, and who could not help adding that

 "You can't always sometimes mostly

 tell,

 Perhaps little Johnny has gone to-So-

 nora"

 But after all, the sojourn here has been a relief to some extent. To get away awhile from out of sight and sound of the eternal harp and howl about fine climate, rich mines and valleys, and all that; from where there is territory enough for every man to have a State of his own, as they say that Senator Sprague owns Rhode Island; from where every pio- neer as it were wants the protection of regiment of soldiers; it is some re- lief, I say. to sec this quiet and thrift, whether it is enjoyable or not. At times 1 think I would like to tell the poorer fry of this fragment of the arctic circle, of the millions of acres waiting for such hands, under more genial climes; but then l conclude that they are perhaps better off where ignorance is bliss, and the getting of babies @ mere question of from seven to nine months time until the age of three score and ten, when the desire is frequently as strong as ever. When I came to Laramie City, near the sum- init of the Rocky Mountains last Fall, I thought of getting daily pa- per again fresh from the press. Wy oming Territory is one of those misty organizations, where they had to let the women vote before they could de- gently knock for admission. We'll, the paper was there, indulging the usual wild, stilted, stereotyped shriek editorially about :" the richest mines in the world, sir i; all we want to develop lem is capital" Oh, certainly! He roes are abundant out that way, but capitalists don't crowd each other. Every man, you know, carries his coffin on his back. The desire to civ ilize-or otherwise, build churches in as many places as there are grave yards out that way, is amply illus trated by stating that here in this old town of Ohio, may be seen most any day on the street, old M T., hale and hearty as it were, who shot an Indian "up the creek" few miles, for killing his brother during the dark and bloody days of Mis (once) far west. Now, you could start across this State in any direction on foot and come to g. railroad every half day or less time. And there is more business and population in this one township than in the entire Territory of Wy oming, or some other would be States I could name. Our forefathers' ad- ventures seem to dwindle in the sight of & few thousand of our modeY6 Boones, who subdue the western half of the continent more rapidly in twenty years time than the eastern half was redeemed in two centuries. Yet you of Arizona will shriek be- cause you get killed; because you can't have a savage for breakfast, his souaw for dinner, and pappose for supper! Was there ever such internal creed extant? Go on, then, if you must, like the wandering Jew, and may the devil take the hindmost.

 It is custom here for the Democrats to rap up the ghost of A. Jackson on the Sth of January. These old Dem oorots die hard. and do everything pos-