Uncle Josh's Punkin Centre Stories Part 8

A shambling, awkward figure, Rawboned, tall and slim, And his schaps and togs in general Jist looked like they'd fell on him.

I wuz somewhat of a tenderfoot then, Hadn't jist got the lay of the land; Thar wuz a good many things in them thar parts As I couldn't quite understand.

But I took a likin' to Yosemite Jim, Wuz with him on my very first trick; And from that time on I stuck to him Like a kitten to a good warm brick.

Our headquarters then wuz the valley camp, It wuz down by the redwood way, With Chaparel across the spur, 'Bout fifty miles away.

Wall, what I'm goin' to tell you, pard, Happened thar whar the trail runs into the sky; And if it hadn't a-bin fer Yosemite Jim, Wall, I'd be countin' my chips on high.

The galoot that wuz punchin' the broncos fer me Wuz a greaser from down Monterey; And Jim used to say, "Keep your eye on him, pard, I don't think he's c.u.m fer to stay; His eyes are too s.h.i.+fty and yeller, And his face is sullen and hard; And 'taint that so much as a feelin' I have; Anyhow, keep your eye on him, pard."

One day when the mercury wuz way out of sight, And the frost it wuz on every nail, With jist the mail sack and specie box, The greaser and I hit the trail.

We picked two pa.s.sengers up at Big Pine, And while the broncos were changed that day I noticed them havin' a sneakin' chat With the greaser from down Monterey.

Did you ever hear tell of the Great White Death, That creeps down the mountain side, Leavin' behind it a ghastly track Whar those who have met it died?

Wall, pard, as true as I'm a-livin', No man wants to see it twice; White and grim as a funeral shroud, A ma.s.s of mist and ice.

Wall, we hadn't got far from the Big Pine relay When my hair it commenced to rise, For I saw across by the Lone Bear spur A cloud of most monstrous size.

And the greaser acted sort of peculiar, And the broncos commenced to neigh; Wall, some thoughts went through my mind jist then I won't forgit till my dyin' day.

In less time than it takes to tell it, We were into the Great White Death, With its millions of frozen snowflakes A-takin' away our breath.

And jist then somethin' happened, pard, The greaser from down Monterey Tried to sneak off with the specie box, Along with the pa.s.sengers from Big Pine relay.

All at once a figure on hossback c.u.m a-whoopin' it down the trail, And bullets from out of a Winchester Commenced to fly like hail.

The greaser and them two pa.s.sengers Cashed in their chips to him, Fer the feller what wuz doin' the shootin'

Wuz my friend, Yosemite Jim.

Wall, we planted them thar together, When the cloud had pa.s.sed away; And all they've got fer a tombstone Is the mountains, dull and gray.

So, pard, let's take one together, And I'll drink a toast to him, Fer though he wuz rough and ready, He'd a heart, YOSEMITE JIM.

The Great White Death, so named by the Indians, occurs in the higher alt.i.tudes of the Rocky and Sierra Nevada Mountains. It is almost indescribable. It might properly be termed a frozen fog. It has the effect of bringing on acute congestion of the lungs, from which few rarely recover. Viewed at a distance it is a magnificent sight, each and every particle of the frozen moisture being a miniature prism, which reflects the sun's rays in a manner once seen never to be forgotten.--By CAL. STEWART, formerly Overland Messenger for the Wells-Fargo Express Company.

Uncle Josh Weathersby's Trip to Boston

FER a long time I had my mind made up to go down to Boston, so a short time ago, as I had all my crops and produce mostly sold, I alowed it would be a good time to go down thar, and I sed to mother, "I'll start early in the mornin' and take a load of produce with me, and that will sort of pay expenses of the trip."

Wall, I got into Boston next mornin' bright and early, 'bout time they had their breakfast, and I looked 'round fer a spell; then finally I picked out a right likely lookin' store, and jist conclooded I'd sell my load of produce thar. Wall, I went in and I met a feller 'nd I sed, "Good mornin', be you the storekeeper?" And he sed, "No, sir, I'm only one of the clerks." So I sed, "Wall, be the storekeeper to hum?" And he sed, "Yes, sir, would you like to see him?" And I told him as how I would, and he turned 'round and commenced to hollerin' "FRONT," and a boy c.u.m up what had more bra.s.s b.u.t.tins on him than a whole regiment of soljers. I thought that wuz a durned funny name fer a boy--front--and that clerk feller he wuz about the most importent thing I'd seen in Boston so far, less maybe it wuz the Bunker Hill monument that I druv past c.u.mmin' to town. He had on a biled collar that sort of put me in mind of the whitewashed fence 'round the fair grounds down hum. I'll bet if he'd ever sneeze it would cut his ears off.

Wall, anyhow, he sed to that front boy, "Show the gentleman to the proprietor's offis." Wall, I went along with that boy, and presently we c.u.m to a place in one corner of that store; it wuz made out of iron and had bars in front of the winders, and looked like the county jale. The front boy p'inted to a man and sed, "Go in," and I sed, "I gessed I wouldn't go in thar, cos I hadn't done anything to be locked up fer."

And that front boy commenced to laffin' tho' durned if I could see what he wuz a-laffin' about, and the storekeeper he opened the door and c.u.m out, and he sed, "Good mornin', what can I do fer you?" I sed, "Be you the storekeeper?" and he sed he wuz. So I sed, "Do you want to buy any pertaters?" And he sed, "No, sir, we don't buy pertaters here; this a dry goods store." So I sed, "Wall, don't want any cabbage, do ye?" And he sed, "No, sir, this is a dry goods store." So I sed, "Wall, now, I want to know; do you need any onions?" And by chowder, he got madder 'n a wet hen. He sed, "Now look a-heer, I want you to understand onct fer all, this is a dry goods store, and we don't buy anything but dry goods and don't sell anything but dry goods; do you understand me now? DRY GOODS." And I sed, "Yes, gess I understand you; you don't need to git so tarnaly riled about the matter; neer as I can figure it out you jist buy dry goods and sell 'em." And he sed, "Yes, sir, only dry goods." So I sed, "Do you want to buy some mighty good dried apples?"

Wall, that front boy got to laffin, and a lot of wimmin clerks giggled right out, and the storekeeper he commenced a-laffin', too, and fer about a minnit I thought they'd all went crazy to onct. Wall, he told a feller to show me whar I could sell my produce, and I disposed of it at a good bargain.

I like them Boston folks, they try to make you feel to hum, and enjoy yourself and be soshable, and I wuz chuck full of soshability, too; I wuz goin' up one street and down t'other, jist a-gettin' soshability at ten cents a soshable.

Wall, I gess I seen about everything wuth seein' in Boston, and I wuz a-standin' along-side of one of their old churches, a-lookin' at the semetry, and I gess thar wuz folks in thar burried nigh unto three hundred years. And I wuz jist a-thinkin' what they'd say if they could wake up and see Boston now, when I noticed a row of little toomstones, and one of them it sed, "Hester Brown, beloved wife of James Brown," and on another it sed, "Prudence Brown, beloved wife of James Brown," and on another it sed, "Thankful Brown, beloved wife of James Brown." Wall, I couldn't jist make out what she had to be thankful about, but I sed, "Jimmy, you had a right lively time while you wuz in Boston, didn't you?" Then I seen another toomstone and on it it sed, "Matilda Brown, beloved wife of James Brown," and another one what sed,

"Sara Ann Brown, beloved wife of James Brown," and over in a little corner, all to itself, I seen a toomstone, and on it it sed, "James Brown, At Rest."

Who Marched in Sixty-One

CAL STEWART, New York, Memorial Day, 1903.

I'VE jist bin down at the corner, mother, To see the boys in line, Dressed up in their bran' new uniforms, I tell you they looked fine.

And as they marched past whar I stood, To the rattle of the drum, It made me think of those other boys Who marched in sixty-one.

The old flag wuz proudly wavin', mother, Jist as it did one day When you stood thar to say good-bye, And watch me march away.

So I stood thar and watched them Till the parade wuz nearly done, But thar wasn't many thar to-day Who marched in sixty-one.

And thar wuz my old Captain And the Colonel side by side, And as they both saluted me I jist sot down and cried.

And I thought about some other boys Whose work has long bin done; Soon thar won't be any left at all Who marched in sixty one.

I heered the band play Dixie, And my old heart swelled with pride, A-thinkin' of the boys in gray Who marched on the other side.

And when my time it comes, mother, The Lord's will it be done, I hope he'll take me to the boys Who marched in sixty-one.