University of Virginia Library

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AN HONEST LIVING.

AN HONEST LIVING.

I was on my way from the mines to San Francisco,
with a light puss and a hevy hart. You'd
scarcely hav recognized my fair form, so kiverd was
I with dust. Bimeby I met Old Poodles, the allfirdist
gambler in the country. He was afoot and in
his shirt sleeves, and was in a wuss larther nor any
race hoss I ever saw.

“Whither goist thow, sweet nimp?” sez I, in a
play-actin tone.

“To the mines, Sir,” he unto me did say,” to the
mines, to earn an honest livin.”

Thinks I that air aint very cool, I guess, and
druv on.