| DOW'S Flat. That 's its name; | |
| And I reckon that you | |
| Are a stranger? The same? | |
| Well, I thought it was true,— | |
| For thar is n't a man on the river as can't spot the place at first view. | 5 |
| |
| It was called after Dow,— | |
| Which the same was an ass,— | |
| And as to the how | |
| Thet the thing kem to pass,— | |
| Jest tie up your hoss to that buckeye, and sit ye down here in the grass: | 10 |
| |
| You see this 'yer Dow | |
| Hed the worst kind of luck; | |
| He slipped up somehow | |
| On each thing thet he struck. | |
| Why, ef he 'd a straddled thet fence-rail, the derned thing 'd get up and buck. | 15 |
| |
| He mined on the bar | |
| Till be could n't pay rates; | |
| He was smashed by a car | |
| When he tunnelled with Bates; | |
| And right on the top of his trouble kem his wife and five kids from the States. | 20 |
| |
| It was rough,—mighty rough; | |
| But the boys they stood by, | |
| And they brought him the stuff | |
| For a house, on the sly; | |
| And the old woman,—well, she did washing, and took on when no one was nigh. | 25 |
| |
| But this 'yer luck of Dow's | |
| Was so powerful mean | |
| That the spring near his house | |
| Dried right up on the green; | |
| And he sunk forty feet down for water, but nary a drop to be seen. | 30 |
| |
| Then the bar petered out, | |
| And the boys would n't stay; | |
| And the chills got about, | |
| And his wife fell away; | |
| But Dow in his well kept a peggin' in his usual ridikilous way. | 35 |
| |
| One day,—it was June,— | |
| And a year ago, jest,— | |
| This Dow kem at noon | |
| To his work like the rest, | |
| With a shovel and pick on his shoulder, and a derringer hid in his breast. | 40 |
| |
| He goes to the well, | |
| And he stands on the brink, | |
| And stops for a spell | |
| Jest to listen and think: | |
| For the sun in his eyes (jest like this, sir!) you see, kinder made the cuss blink. | 45 |
| |
| His two ragged gals | |
| In the gulch were at play, | |
| And a gownd that was Sal's | |
| Kinder flapped on a bay: | |
| Not much for a man to be leavin', but his all,—as I 've heer'd the folks say. | 50 |
| |
| And—That 's a peart hoss | |
| Thet you 've got,—ain't it now? | |
| What might be her cost? | |
| Eh? Oh!—Well, then, Dow— | |
| Let 's see,—well, that forty-foot grave was n't his, sir, that day, anyhow. | 55 |
| |
| For a blow of his pick | |
| Sorter caved in the side, | |
| And he looked and turned sick, | |
| Then he trembled and cried. | |
| For you see the dern cuss had struck—"Water?"—Beg your parding, young man—there you lied! | 60 |
| |
| It was gold,—in the quartz, | |
| And it ran all alike; | |
| And I reckon five oughts | |
| Was the worth of that strike; | |
| And that house with the coopilow 's his'n,—which the same is n't bad for a Pike. | 65 |
| |
| Thet 's why it 's Dow's Flat; | |
| And the thing of it is, | |
| That he kinder got that | |
| Through sheer contrairiness: | |
| For 't was water the derned cuss was seekin', and his luck made him certain to miss. | 70 |
| |
| Thet 's so! Thar 's your way, | |
| To the left of yon tree; | |
| But—a—look h'yur, say? | |
| Won't you come up to tea? | |
| No? Well, then the next time you 're passin'; and ask after Dow,—and thet 's me. | 75 |
