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, And you left but a twelvemonth ago;
You've hobnobbed with Louis Napoleon, Eugenie, and kissed the Pope's toe.
By Jove, it is perfectly stunning, Astounding,--and all that, you know;
Yes, things are about as you left them In Mud Flat a twelvemonth ago.
The boys!--they're all right,--Oh! **** Ashley, He's buried somewhere in the snow;
He was lost on the Summit last winter, And Bob has a hard row to hoe.
You know that he's got the consumption?
You didn't! Well, come, that's a go;
I certainly wrote you at Baden,--Dear me! that was six months ago.
I got all your outlandish letters, All stamped by some foreign P. O.
I handed myself to Miss Mary That sketch of a famous chateau.
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, The pines, and the valley below, And heard the North Fork of the Yuba As you stood on the banks of the Po?
'Twas just like your romance, old fellow;
But now there is standing a row Of stores on the site of the cabin That you lived in a twelvemonth ago.
But it's jolly to see you, old fellow,--To think it's a twelvemonth ago!
And you have seen Louis Napoleon, And look like a Johnny Crapaud.
Come in. You will surely see Mary,--You know we are married. What, no?
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 civilization 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 Of that lottery drawed By those sharps at the Bay;
And he says to me, "Truthful, how goes it?"
I replied, "It is far, far from gay;
"For the camp has gone wild On this lottery game, And has even beguiled 'Injin ****' by the same."
Then said Nye to me, "Injins is pizen:
But what is his number, eh, James?"
I replied, "7, 2, 9, 8, 4, is his hand;"
When he started, and drew Out a list, which he scanned;
Then he softly went for his revolver With language I cannot command.
Then I said, "William Nye!"
But he turned upon me, And the look in his eye Was quite painful to see;
And he says, "You mistake; this poor Injin I protects from such sharps as YOU be!"
I was shocked and withdrew;
But I grieve to relate, When he next met my view Injin **** was his mate;
And the two around town was a-lying In a frightfully dissolute state.
Which the war dance they had Round a tree at the Bend Was a sight that was sad;
And it seemed that the end Would not justify the proceedings, As I quiet remarked to a friend.
For that Injin he fled The next day to his band;
And we found William spread Very loose on the strand, With a peaceful-like smile on his features, And a dollar greenback in his hand;
Which the same, when rolled out, We observed, with surprise, Was what he, no doubt, Thought the number and prize--Them figures in red in the corner, Which the number of notes specifies.
Was it guile, or a dream?
Is it Nye that I doubt?
Are things what they seem?
Or is visions about?
Is our civilization a failure?
Or is the Caucasian played out?
AFTER THE ACCIDENT
(MOUTH OF THE SHAFT)
What I want is my husband, sir,--And if you're a man, sir, You'll give me an answer,--Where is my Joe?
Penrhyn, sir, Joe,--Caernarvonshire.
Six months ago Since we came here--Eh?--Ah, you know!
Well, I am quiet And still, But I must stand here, And will!
Please, I'll be strong, If you'll just let me wait Inside o' that gate Till the news comes along.
"Negligence!"--That was the cause!--Butchery!
Are there no laws,--Laws to protect such as we?
Well, then!
I won't raise my voice.
There, men!
I won't make no noise, Only you just let me be.
Four, only four--did he say--Saved! and the other ones?--Eh?
Why do they call?
Why are they all Looking and coming this way?
What's that?--a message?
I'll take it.
I know his wife, sir, I'll break it.
"Foreman!"
Ay, ay!
"Out by and by,--Just saved his life.
Say to his wife Soon he'll be free."
Will I?--God bless you!
It's me!
THE GHOST THAT JIM SAW
Why, as to that, said the engineer, Ghosts ain't things we are apt to fear;
Spirits don't fool with levers much, And throttle-valves don't take to such;
And as for Jim, What happened to him Was one half fact, and t'other half whim!
Running one night on the line, he saw A house--as plain as the moral law--Just by the moonlit bank, and thence Came a drunken man with no more sense Than to drop on the rail Flat as a flail, As Jim drove by with the midnight mail.
Down went the patents--steam reversed.
Too late! for there came a "thud." Jim cursed As the fireman, there in the cab with him, Kinder stared in the face of Jim, And says, "What now?"
Says Jim, "What now!
I've just run over a man,--that's how!"
The fireman stared at Jim. They ran Back, but they never found house nor man,--Nary a shadow within a mile.
Jim turned pale, but he tried to smile, Then on he tore Ten mile or more, In quicker time than he'd made afore.
Would you believe it! the very next night Up rose that house in the moonlight white, Out comes the chap and drops as before, Down goes the brake and the rest encore;
And so, in fact, Each night that act Occurred, till folks swore Jim was cracked.
Humph! let me see; it's a year now, 'most, That I met Jim, East, and says, "How's your ghost?"
"Gone," says Jim; "and more, it's plain That ghost don't trouble me again.
I thought I shook That ghost when I took A place on an Eastern line,--but look!
