'
back and a-turnin' into good, pure influences to bless the world! And
besides, the oncounted gain to Heaven and earth! Uncle Sam would git the
two-cent mortgages back a dozen times in the increase of taxable
property."

The Governor murmured agin that he wuz wanted to once, in a distant part
of the city--he must start for California imegatly, and on the next
train. Sez he incoherently, "That school wuz about to open; he must be
to the University to once."

He wuz nearly delirious--I spoze he wuz nearly overcome by my remarkable
eloquence, but don't know.

But as he sot off, a-movin' backward in a polite way but swift, entirely
onbeknown to him he come up aginst a big tree, and with a hopeless look
of resignation he leaned up aginst it, while I, a-feelin' that
Providence had interfered to give me another chance at him, advanced
onwards, and sez to him in a real eloquent way, "That bill will do more
than any amount of beggin', or jawin', or preachin', towards keepin' the
boys to hum on the old deserted farms that are so thick in the country;
and," sez I, "now that bill has fell out of his hands, I want you to
take it up and pass it on to success."

Sez I, "Let Uncle Sam and you go out, as I have, in the country byroads
in Jonesville, and Loontown, and Zoar, and you'll both gin in that I'm
a-tellin' the truth."

Sez I, "If it hain't a pitiful sight in one short mornin's ride to go by
more'n a dozen of them poor deserted old homes, as I have many a time,
and I spoze they lay jest as thick scattered all over the State and
country as they do round Jonesville."

Sez I, "To see them old brown ruffs a-humpin' themselves up jest as
lonesome-lookin' and cold--no smoke a-comin' out of the chimblys to
cheer 'em up--to see the bare winders a-facin' the west, and no bright
eyes a-lookin' out, nor curly locks for the sunlight to git tangled
in--to see the poor old door-step a-settin' there alone, as if a-tellin'
over its troubles to the front gate, and that a-creakin' back to it on
lonesome nights or cold, fair mornin's--

"And the old well-sweep a-pintin' up into the sky overhead, as if
a-callin' Heaven to witness that it wuzn't to blame for the state of
things--

"And the apple trees, with low swingin' branches, with no bare brown
feet to press on 'em on the way up to the robin's nest overhead--empty
barns, ruins, weedy gardens, long, lonesome stretches of paster and
medder lands--

"Why, if Uncle Sam could look on sec