In St. Francisco located was NATHAN JEHOIAKIM BOWIE; Down by the wharf on the harbour he traded in liquors and dry goods, Darned hard knot at a deal, at Meetin’ a powerful elder. There at his store, in the shade, they met, onbraced and enlightened Traders and trappers and captings, and lawyers and editors also. Freely they liquored and chewed, indulgin’ in expectoration, Rockin’ with heels over heads, and whittling’, laborious, the counter. Like dough-nut at a frolic, or yellow-pine stump in a clearin’, Sharp as a backwoodsman’s axe, and cute as a bachelor beaver, Glimmer’d, through clouds of Virginny, the cypherin’ mug of NATHANIEL. Sweeter nor candy of maple, a’most too genteel to be raal, Straight as a hickory sapling and clean as a Nar’ganset pacer Tall _she_ moved through the bar, a-sarvin’ of juleps and cock-tails, Sweetenin’ the cobblers with smiles, and firin’ Havannahs with glances, NATHAN J. BOWIE’S fair darter, splendiferous MISS DOLLARINA! Tall she moved thro’ the bar, collectin’ the joes and the cents in: Not that she needed to did it, but ’cause nigger helps there’s no trustin’, And she was too tender-hearted to get the black varmint cow-hided. ――There in pastoral peace, since first the location was ceded, Dwelt the old man and his child, beneath their own vine and their fig-tree, Doin’ a good stroke of business, for cash or beaver-skins only. On NAT’S. roof of split shingle, illustrious GOVERNOR TARBOX Hoisted the Stars and the Stripes, representative there of the Mighty, The Free, and the Fearless of airth, the Go-a-head ’Merican people; Boarded there the great TARBOX, and took his horn like a mere man, Paying four dollars _per diem_ for grub, grog, shake-down, and washin’. Then came down, like iled lightning, on St. Francisco a rumour―― Fame her brazen trump turned best mint metal to puff it―― How that the root of all evil was found growin’ wild up the country, How gold stuck to folk’s fingers that washed in the St. Sacramento! NAT. chawed two plugs extra to hear it; the editor swore he Wished to be darned, if it wasn’t a caution how folks could be gammoned. “My!” sighed sweet DOLLARINA, and paused as she squoze a half lemon; But the magnanimous TARBOX, he reckoned ’tmight be kinder likely, Seein’ the States whipt the airth for men, and why not for metals? Came from the diggins a straanger, with two carpet-bags full of goold dust; NATHAN diskivered the fact, as he traded a pinch for a gin-sling; And as that straanger loafed, thro’ the bar, from parlor to bedroom, Streams of the glorious sand oozed out through a hole in his trousers. ――Gathered the rumour and grew, and soon rose a sudden demand for Calabash, can, keg, and kettle; and NATHAN’S prime lot of tin fixin’s, Crockery, also, went off at figgers that beat to eternal Smash all prices he’d thought, in dreams e’en, of e’er realisin’.