The Blue Horizon wuz a mine us fellers all thought well uv, And there befell the episode I now perpose to tell uv; 'Twuz in the year of sixty-nine--somewhere along in summer-- There hove in sight one afternoon a new and curious comer; His name wuz Silas Pettibone--an artist by perfession, With a kit of tools and a big mustache and a pipe in his possession; He told us, by our leave, he'd kind uv like to make some sketches Uv the snowy peaks, 'nd the foamin' crick, 'nd the distant mountain stretches; "You're welkim, sir," sez we, although this scenery dodge seemed to us A waste uv time where scenery wuz already sooper-_floo_-us. All through the summer Pettibone kep' busy at his sketchin'-- At daybreak, off for Eagle Pass, and home at nightfall, fetchin' That everlastin' book uv his with spider lines all through it-- Three-Fingered Hoover used to say there warn't no meanin' to it-- "God durn a man," sez he to him, "whose shif'less hand is sot at A-drawin' hills that's full of quartz that's pinin' to be got at!" "Go on," sez Pettibone, "go on, if joshin' gratifies ye, But one uv these fine times, I'll show ye sumthin' will surprise ye!" The which remark led us to think--although he didn't say it-- That Pettibone wuz owin' us a gredge 'nd meant to pay it. One evenin' as we sat around the restauraw de Casey, A-singin' songs 'nd tellin' yarns the which wuz sumwhat racy, In come that feller Pettibone 'nd sez: "With your permission I'd like to put a picture I have made on exhibition." He sot the picture on the bar 'nd drew aside its curtain, Sayin': "I recken you'll allow as how _that's_ art, f'r certain!" And then we looked, with jaws agape, but nary word wuz spoken, And f'r a likely spell the charm uv silence wuz unbroken-- Till presently, as in a dream, remarked Three-Fingered Hoover: "Onless I am mistaken, this is Pettibone's shef doover!" It wuz a face, a human face--a woman's, fair 'nd tender, Sot gracefully upon a neck white as a swan's, and slender; The hair wuz kind of sunny, 'nd the eyes wuz sort uv dreamy, The mouth wuz half a-smilin', 'nd the cheeks wuz soft 'nd creamy; It seemed like she wuz lookin' off into the west out yonder, And seemed like, while she looked, we saw her eyes grow softer, fonder-- Like, lookin' off into the west where mountain mists wuz fallin', She saw the face she longed to see and heerd his voice a-callin'; "Hooray!" we cried; "a woman in the camp uv Blue Horizon-- Step right up, Colonel Pettibone, 'nd nominate your pizen!"