A curious situation--one deservin' uv your pity-- No human, livin' female thing this side of Denver City! But jest a lot uv husky men that lived on sand 'nd bitters-- Do you wonder that that woman's face consoled the lonesome critters? And not a one but what it served in some way to remind him Of a mother or a sister or a sweetheart left behind him-- And some looked back on happier days and saw the old-time faces And heerd the dear familiar sounds in old familiar places-- A gracious touch of home--"Look here," sez Hoover, "ever'body Quit thinkin' 'nd perceed at oncet to name his favorite toddy!" It wuzn't long afore the news had spread the country over, And miners come a-flockin' in like honey bees to clover; It kind uv did 'em good they said, to feast their hungry eyes on That picture uv Our Lady in the camp uv Blue Horizon. But one mean cuss from Nigger Crick passed criticisms on 'er-- Leastwise we overheerd him call her Pettibone's madonner, The which we did not take to be respectful to a lady-- So we hung him in a quiet spot that wuz cool 'nd dry 'nd shady; Which same might not have been good law, but it _wuz_ the right maneuver To give the critics due respect for Pettibone's shef doover. Gone is the camp--yes, years ago, the Blue Horizon busted, And every mother's son uv us got up one day 'nd dusted, While Pettibone perceeded east with wealth in his possession And went to Yurrup, as I heerd, to study his perfession; So, like as not, you'll find him now a-paintin' heads 'nd faces At Venus, Billy Florence and the like I-talyun places-- But no such face he'll paint again as at old Blue Horizon, For I'll allow no sweeter face no human soul sot eyes on; And when the critics talk so grand uv Paris 'nd the loover, I say: "Oh, but you orter seen the Pettibone shef doover!" PENN-YAN BILL. I. In gallus old Kentucky, where the grass is very blue, Where the liquor is the smoothest and the girls are fair and true, Where the crop of he-gawd gentlemen is full of heart and sand, And the stock of four-time winners is the finest in the land; Where the democratic party in bourbon hardihood For more than half a century unterrified has stood, Where nod the black-eyed Susans to the prattle of the rill-- There--there befell the wooing of Penn-Yan Bill. II. Down yonder in the cottage that is nestling in the shade Of the walnut trees that seem to love that quiet little glade Abides a pretty maiden of the bonny name of Sue-- As pretty as the black-eyed flow'rs and quite as modest, too; And lovers came there by the score, of every age and kind, But not a one (the story goes) was quite to Susie's mind. Their sighs, their protestations, and their pleadings made her ill-- Till at once upon the scene hove Penn-Yan Bill. III.