He mined on the bar Till he couldn't pay rates; He was smashed by a car When he tunnelled with Bates; And right on the top of his trouble kem his wife and five kids from the States. It was rough, mighty rough; For a house, on the sly; And the old woman,—well, she did washing, and took on when no one was nigh. But this 'yer luck of Dow's Was so powerful mean That the spring near his house Dried right up on the green; And he sunk forty feet down for water, but nary a drop to be seen. Then the bar petered out, And the boys wouldn't stay; And the chills got about, And his wife fell away; But Dow in his well kept a peggin' in his usual ridikilous way. One day, it was June,— And a year ago, jest,— This Dow kem at noon To his work like the rest, With a shovel and pick on his shoulder, and a derringer hid in his breast. He goes to the well, And he stands on the brink, And stops for a spell Jest to listen and think: For the sun in his eyes (jest like this, sir!), you see, kinder made the cuss blink. Dow's Flat 2105 His two ragged gals In the gulch were at play, And a gownd that was Sal's Kinder flapped on a bay: Not much for a man to be leavin', but his all,-as I've heer'd the folks say. And-That's a peart hoss Thet you've got-ain't it now? What might be her cost? Eh? Oh!-Well, then, Dow— Let's see, well, that forty-foot grave wasn't his, sir, that day, anyhow. For a blow of his pick Sorter caved in the side, And he looked and turned sick, For Then he trembled and cried. you see the dern cuss had struck-"Water?"-beg your parding, young man,-there you lied! It was gold, in the quartz, And it ran all alike; And I reckon five oughts Was the worth of that strike; And that house with the coopilow's his'n,-which the same isn't bad for a Pike. Thet's why it's Dow's Flat; And the thing of it is That he kinder got that Through sheer contrairiness: For 'twas water the derned cuss was seekin', and his luck made him certain to miss. Thet's so! Thar's your way, To the left of yon tree; But-a-look h'yur, say? Won't you come up to tea? No? Well, then the next time you're passin'; and ask aft Dow, and thet's me. Bret Harte [18 PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM TRUTHFUL JAMES TABLE MOUNTAIN, 1870 WHICH I wish to remark, And my language is plain, And for tricks that are vain, Which the same I would rise to explain. Ah Sin was his name; And I shall not deny, In regard to the same, What that name might imply; But his smile it was pensive and childlike. It was August the third, And quite soft was the skies; Which it might be inferred That Ah Sin was likewise; Yet he played it that day upon William Which we had a small game, It was Euchre. The same He did not understand; But he smiled, as he sat by the table, With the smile that was childlike and bland. Yet the cards they were stocked In a way that I grieve, And my feelings were shocked At the state of Nye's sleeve, Which was stuffed full of aces and bowers, The Retort Till at last he put down a right bower, Then I looked up at Nye, And he gazed upon me; And he rose with a sigh, And said, "Can this be? We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor,"- In the scene that ensued I did not take a hand, But the floor it was strewed, Like the leaves on the strand, With the cards that Ah Sin had been hiding, In his sleeves, which were long, He had twenty-four packs,Which was coming it strong, Yet I state but the facts; And we found on his nails, which were taper, Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar, Which the same I am free to maintain. 2107 Bret Harte [1839-1902] THE RETORT OLD Birch, who taught the village school, He was as stubborn as a mule, And she as playful as a rabbit. Poor Kate had scarce become a wife Before her husband sought to make her The pink of country-polished life, And prim and formal as a Quaker. One day the tutor went abroad, And simple Katie sadly missed him; She shyly stole, and fondly kissed him. The husband's anger rose, and red And white his face alternate grew: "Less freedom, ma'am!" Kate sighed and said, "O, dear! I didn't know 'twas you!" George Pope Morris [1802-1864] THE FLITCH OF DUNMOW COME, Micky and Molly and dainty Dolly, Ye gossips and neighbors, away with your labors! For there are Jenny and jovial Joe; Jolly and jolly, jolly they go, Jogging over the hill. By apple and berry, 'tis twelve months merry Since Jenny and Joe were wed! And never a bother or quarrelsome pother To trouble the board or bed. So Joe and Jenny are off to Dunmow: Oh, Jenny's as pretty as doves in a ditty; And Joey's a fellow as merry and mellow As ever shouldered a sack. So quick, good people, and come to the show. Merry and merry, merry they go, Bumping on Dobbin's back. They've pranked up old Dobbin with ribbons and bobbin, And tethered his tail in a string! The fat flitch of bacon is not to be taken By many that wear the ring! |