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Show 268 TALES OF THE COLORADO PIONEERS. When once, in wand'ring thro' the "bresh," I spid a grizzly, fierce and awful, And, as it was both right and lawful To prey upon the plantigrade, My preparations were soon made For bloody contest, fierce and long. Then, after singing my death-song, I drew a fine bead on the ursuline mass, Crack, went my gun, and down tumbled an ass. The cactus, so modestly rearing its fronds, With rhat innocent air, which the devil oft dons, Can discount the conscience of any old-timer, Not barring the hard one of Old Rudd, the rhymer, Altho' with the scene, it may gracefully blend, Yet, 'twill ever remind me of my latter end. The mules that so piously pose in the scene, Are concocting some trick on their owner, I ween, Yet their forms on the canvas will ever suggest To my mind the features of each honored guest. The artist's likeness in the scene, Standing beside the cactus green, Altho' no label guides the mind, And, save the bottle, shown behind, Marked " Snake Bite," little else is seen To draw distinctive line between, Yet 'tis so plain; most any fool Could tell the artist from the mule. I thank you, friends, for you attention, And other things unwise to mention.' " This impromptu response I had prepared some two weeks before the occasion." Governor Rudd, as he is usually called, is one of the oldest citizens of Canon, and his many excellent traits of character have won for him general respect and esteem. With a heart keenly alive to the necessities of the times, and fully in sympathy with the welfare and efforts of his fellow-men, he has attained a " beautiful old age." |