Part 133 (1/2)

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, What is frequent in tapers--that's wax.

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.

_Bret Harte._

THE SOCIETY UPON THE STANISLAUS

I reside at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James; I am not up to small deceit, or any sinful games; And I'll tell in simple language what I know about the row That broke up our society upon the Stanislow.

But first I would remark, that it is not a proper plan For any scientific man to whale his fellow-man, And, if a member don't agree with his peculiar whim, To lay for that same member for to ”put a head” on him.

Now, nothing could be finer or more beautiful to see Than the first six months' proceedings of that same society, Till Brown of Calaveras brought a lot of fossil bones That he found within a tunnel near the tenement of Jones.

Then Brown he read a paper, and he reconstructed there, From those same bones, an animal that was extremely rare; And Jones then asked the Chair for a suspension of the rules, Till he could prove that those same bones was one of his lost mules.

Then Brown he smiled a bitter smile and said he was at fault, It seemed he had been trespa.s.sing on Jones's family vault; He was a most sarcastic man, this quiet Mr. Brown, And on several occasions he had cleaned out the town.

Now, I hold it is not decent for a scientific gent To say another is an a.s.s--at least, to all intent; Nor should the individual who happens to be meant Reply by heaving rocks at him to any great extent.

Then Abner Dean of Angel's raised a point of order, when A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen, And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and curled up on the floor, And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.

For, in less time than I write it, every member did engage In a warfare with the remnants of a palaeozoic age; And the way they heaved those fossils in their anger was a sin, Till the skull of an old mammoth caved the head of Thompson in.

And this is all I have to say of these improper games For I live at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James; And I've told, in simple language, what I know about the row That broke up our society upon the Stanislow.

_Bret Harte._

”JIM”

Say there! P'r'aps Some on you chaps Might know Jim Wild!

Well,--no offence: Thar ain't no sense In gittin' riled!

Jim was my chum Up on the Bar: That's why I come Down from up yar, Lookin' for Jim.

Thank ye, sir! _you_ Ain't of that crew,-- Blest if you are!

Money?--Not much; That ain't my kind: I ain't no such.

Rum?--I don't mind, Seein' it's you.

Well, this yer Jim, Did you know him?-- Jess 'bout your size; Same kind of eyes;--

Well, that is strange: Why, it's two year Since he came here, Sick, for a change.

Well, here's to us: Eh?

The h----, you say!

Dead?

That little cuss?

What makes you star,-- You over thar?