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258 to another; and the cussedest luck! Why, I have had more luck than would sink a ship, and have got it yet!"

I will be just to the memory of my departed friend; he had.

He came across the plains in '49. He started with a good outfit supplied him by friends in Illinois, who fitted him out "on shares" as a speculation. He left them confident of large dividends, and those who are yet above ground are still waiting for them. His best horse was stolen from him on the first night out from "St. Joe," and he traded off the other and the double harnesses for a yoke of oxen, with a cow thrown in. One of his oxen was gobbled up by Indians on the Platte, and having sold, given away, or thrown away half his provisions to lighten his load, he started on with the cow yoked in with the remaining ox.

The cow pegged out on the headwaters of the Humboldt, and he abandoned his wagon and rode the remaining ox down to "the Sink," where it also gave up the struggle, and left him alone in his misery. From thence he made the remainder of the journey on foot, camping by night with any family or party who would give him a supper and the use of a spare blanket

All things must have an end some time, and he finished his journey at last, arriving at Placerville late in the autumn, worn out, ragged, and seedy to the last degree—the very impersonation of persistent bad luck—but still hopeful of the future, and obtained a situation as waiter at a hotel, with good wages. At