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Rh man every time. Andrew, his fust name was; and look how his hair stands up.

"And then, here's John Adams, and Daniel Boone, and two or three pirates, and a whole lot more pictures, so you see it's cheap as dirt. Lemme have your name, won't you?"

THE ENGINEER'S STORY. , stranger? Yes, she's purty, an' ez peart ez she kin be. Clever? W'y, she ain't no chicken, but she's good enough fur me. What's her name? 'Tis kind o' common, yit I ain't ashamed to tell, She's ole "Fiddler" Filkin's daughter, and her dad he calls her "Nell."

I wuz drivin' on the Central jist about a year ago, On the run from Winnemucca up to Reno in Washoe. There's no end o' skeery places. 'Tain't a road fur one who dreams, With its curves an' awful tres'les over rocks an' mountain streams.

'Twuz an afternoon in August; we hed got behind an hour, An' wuz tearin' up the mountain like a summer thundershower, Round the bends an' by the ledges 'bout ez fast ez we could go, With the mountain-peaks above us an' the river down below.

Ez we come nigh to a tres'le cros't a holler, deep an' wild, Suddenly I saw a baby,—'twuz the station-keeper's child,— Toddlin' right along the timbers with a bold an' fearless tread, Right afore the locomotive, not a hundred rods ahead.

I jist jumped, an' grabbed the throttle, an' I fa'rly held my breath, Fur I felt I couldn't stop her till the child was crushed to death,