164 His Answer to "Her Letter." (Which are words he would put in these pages, By a party not given to guile; Though the claim not, at date, paying wages, He remembers the ball at the Ferry, (Which his blanket he's kicked on his trunk, Miss, And his language to me from his bunk, Miss, He hopes you are wearing no willows, But are happy and gay all the while; "Yet, were he lying under the snows, Miss, And "you'll still think of him in your pleasures, Was his last week's "clean up,”—and his all.) He's asleep, which the same might seem strange, Miss, Were it not that I scorn to deny That I raised his last dose, for a change, Miss, In view that his fever was high; But he lies there quite peaceful and pensive. Which I have a small favour to ask you, You would please to procure for me, game; P.S.-Which this same interfering Into other folks' way I despise ; Yet if it so be I was hearing That it's just empty pockets as lies Betwixt you and Joseph, it follers That, having no family claims, Here's my pile, which it's six hundred dollars, As is yours, with respects, TRUTHFUL JAMES "The Return of Belisarius." (MUD FLAT, 1860.) So you're back from your travels, old fellow, Astounding, and all that, you know; The boys!-they're all right,-Oh! Dick Ashley, He was lost on the Summit last winter, I certainly wrote you at Baden,- I got all your outlandish letters, That sketch of a famous château. Tom Saunders is living at 'Frisco, They say that he cuts quite a show You didn't meet Euchre-deck Billy Anywhere on your road to Cairo So you thought of the rusty old cabin, Of stores on the site of the cabin But it's jolly to see you, old fellow,— You know we are married. Oh, ay! I forgot there was something Between you a twelvemonth ago. Further Language from Truthful James. (NYE'S FORD, STANISLAUS, 1870.) Do I sleep? do I dream? Do I wonder and doubt? Are things what they seem? Or is visions about? Is our civilisation a failure? Or is the Caucasian played out? Which expressions are strong; Yet would feebly imply Some account of a wrong Not to call it a lie As was worked off on William, my pardner, And the same being W. Nye. He came down to the Ford On the very same day By those sharps at the Bay; And he says to me, "Truthful, how goes it ?" I replied, "It is far, far from gay; |