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82 Wa'll, I reckon 'tain't so bad,

Seein' ez 't was all they had;

True, the Springs are rather late

And early Falls predominate;

But the ice crop's pretty sure,

And the air is kind o' pure;

'Taint so very mean a trade,

When the land is all surveyed.

There's a right smart chance for fur-chase

All along this recent purchase,

And unless the stories fail,

Every fish from cod to whale;

Rocks, too; mebbee quartz; let's see—

'T would be strange if there should be—

Seems I've heerd such stories told;

Eh!—why, bless us—yes, it's gold!"

While the blows are falling thick

From his California pick,

You may recognize the Thor

Of the vision that I saw—

Freed from legendary glamour,

See the real magician's hammer.