Brother, you should not have given us away. We just had to salt that vein before we could get it in the market, and when the "salt" gave out, and the end of the vein was reached, we hoped you wouldn't notice the fact. If you hadn't mentioned it we might have gone on for years gladdening and instructing and drawing princely salary, but now our little spurt of our brilliancy will have to put on its pajamas and retire between the cold sheets of oblivion. We do not blame you at all for calling the public's attention to the played-out lode, for it is a terrible responsibility to guide the footsteps of innocent purchasers who may be taken in by glittering, quartz and seductive pyrites of iron. To have one whom we regarded as a friend jerk us backward by the left leg when we had made such a successful sneak, and were about to scramble over the back fence of the temple of fame makes us sad, but we do not repine for: "'Twere better to have spurted and lost Than never to have spurted at all." We really intended our light to burn for years, and to have the wick snuffed so quickly, although done in sorrowing kindness, causes us to sputter and smoke a little as we go out. When the true Messiah comes along and shies his valise over to the night clerk, and turns back his cuffs ready to fill the long-felt want; if he should ever hear the whoops of those unappreciative critics who would crucify him, these few lines may teach him to fly to Brenham where his papa, the great intellectual lord of the universe, will protect him. Solemn Thoughts The golden crescent of the new moon hung above the market house, and the night was cool, springlike, and perfect. Five or six men were sitting in front of the Hutchins House, and they had gradually shifted their chairs until they were almost in a group. They were men from different parts of the country, some of them from cities thousands of miles away. They had been rattled in the dice box of chance and thrown in a temporary cluster into the hospitable gates of the Magnolia city. They smoked and talked, and that feeling of comradeship which seizes men who meet in the world far from their own homes, was strong upon them. They told all their funny stories and compared experiences, and then a little silence fell upon them, and while the hanging strata of blue smoke grew thicker, their thoughts began to wander back--as the cows stray homeward at eventide--to other scenes and faces. "'And o'er them many a flaming range of vapor buoyed the crescent bark: And rapt through many a rosy change The twilight melted into dark,'" quoted the New York drummer. "Heigho! I wish I was at home tonight." "Same here," said the little man from St. Louis. "I can just see the kids now tumbling round on the floor and cutting up larks before Laura puts them to bed. There's one blessing, though, I'll be home on Thanksgiving."