University of Virginia Library

25. XXV
PANNIERS.

Say Old Fellow: — You've got a way lately
of laying back there at Astoria, and imagining all
sorts of things which you think would save you
the slightest trouble or inconvenience, and sending
off orders for them with all the imperiousness
of Aldiborontsphosco phornis, when ordering Rigdum
Funnidos to chop off the head of Chrononhotonthologos.
What in thunder do you mean?
I send the things this time, but request you to get
rid of the habit; it grows on you, like an appetite
for liquor. All but the pannier's, ha, ha! In the
venerated name of Sancho Panza, where did you
read about pannier's? The word is suggestive of
Dapple Cork trees, Andalusian maids, bandits and

sech. Why, ignorant dweller at the corners of
Clay and Montgomery, (up stairs) do you know
that for eight years I have done little or nothing
but travel through California and Oregon with
pack trains, during which time I have seen over
4000 mules packed, with over 800,000 pounds of
merchandise, while upwards of 4,000,000 oaths
and profane execrations were vented at them, and
yet never in my life saw a — ha! ha! a pannier.
And do you suppose that I, an old and experienced
packer, to whom a hair sinch is as familiar as
a tooth-brush, will permit you, having but three
mules to pack, to use — a — ha! ha! (excuse me)
a,— ho! ho! (really I can't help it) a — — panniers!
a primeval implement probably used by Balaam
to save himself a little trouble in packing his
jackass. No, sir. Take a lash rope, double it
equally, lay it over the saddle, put an equal weight
on each side, and turn up the ends, then take your
sinch, and draw it tight over the pack in various
directions and fasten the ends to the horns of the
saddle. Panniers, indeed, — would'nt you like a
sedan chair? Panniers, young man, are only
raised in Chili and Peru and other Catholic countries,
by the peons and chulos, etc., to carry fruit
to market. I have seen them myself in Valpariaso,
teeming with the luscious grape, the fragrant
strawberry, and the rich and juicy buckwheat
cake. But you can't have any Panniers. No, sir.
You are, however, permitted to look at them — te
he! (See page 200.)

Your oats were sent by the last boat. The
Multnomat resumes her trips to-morrow. We are
all disgusted by the non-arrival of the mail steamer
Columbia, expected here last night — oh! yes!
Have I “thought to make an extract from the letter
of the Secretary of War?” No. I haven't
thought to make any such extract. You had plenty
of opportunity to make an extract if you wanted
to, when you were here; if you want any extract
now, you can get Lubin to make it. It is not
at all in my line! Have I a copy of the act making
the appropriation and of the advertisement
inviting proposals? Yes, I have a copy of the

act, and of the advertisement, and I mean to keep
'em.

Have you got them? If you haven't don't
you wish you may get 'em?

Good-bye, he — ha! Panniers!