Old Block's Sketch-Book - Or, Tales of California Life #267362

Dear Public: The rain was pattering against the casement, and the wind was howling amid the storm, a few evening's since, when I was sitting in my rocking chair, in my snug parlor, before a comfortable fire, listening to the raging elements, as the flood came down to rejoice the heart of the worthy miner, who had long been waiting the action of Providence for the means of working the rich deposits of California, when I fell into a train of reminiscence of my experience of the last six years.<br><br>I thought of the many nights that I had passed in such a storm without a shelter, when even the cayotes had slunk to their holes to avoid its fury; I thought of my old comrades who had shared my exposures; I thought of the miner in his cabin, or as he toiled on from day to day; and I thought, too, of his heroic courage in battling on and maintaining his good nature under crushing discouragements; and I felt proud that I had shared his toil and feelings alike, whether of weal or woe, and that, notwithstanding circumstances had combined to place me now in other business, I felt that I was of and with the miner in close identification. In this spirit, I thought it would not be misapropos to place some of my worthy comrades before the public, so that the world could judge something of the character of the men by whom our mountains are peopled.