The Little Gold Miners of the Sierras

Joaquin Miller
The Little Gold Miners of the
Sierras and
by Various

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Title: The Little Gold Miners of the Sierras and Other Stories
Author: Various
Release Date: May 5, 2007 [EBook #21340]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE LITTLE GOLD MINERS OF THE SIERRAS
BY
JOAQUIN MILLER
AND OTHER STORIES
FULLY ILLUSTRATED
[Illustration: "COLOR! TWO COLORS! THREE, FOUR, FIVE--A
DOZEN!"]
BOSTON D. LOTHROP & COMPANY FRANKLIN AND HAWLEY
STREETS
Copyright, 1886, by D. LOTHROP & COMPANY.

CONTENTS.
PAGE.
I. THE LITTLE GOLD MINERS OF THE SIERRAS. 7 Joaquin
Miller.
II. A MODERN HERO. 23 Marion Harland.
III. BENNY'S WIGWAM. 44 Mary Catherine Lee.
IV. BENNY'S DISAPPEARANCE. 63 Mary Catherine Lee.
V. HOW TWO SCHOOLBOYS KILLED A BEAR. 86 H. F. Marsh.
VI. PETE'S PRINTING PRESS. 94 Kate Gannett Wells.
VII. AUNT ELIZABETH'S FENCE. 119 George H. Hebard.

VIII. THE BUTTON BOY. 138 A. M. Griffin.
IX. DAN HARDY'S CRIPPY. 156 James Otis.
X. HIS THREE TRIALS. 185 Kate Gannett Wells.
XI. IN THE SECOND DORMITORY. 211 John Preston True.
XII. THE DOUGHNUT BAIT. 232 George Varney.
XIII. A REAL HAPPENING. 239 Mary B. Claflin.

THE LITTLE GOLD MINERS OF THE SIERRAS.
Their mother had died crossing the plains, and their father had had a leg
broken by a wagon wheel passing over it as they descended the Sierras,
and he was for a long time after reaching the mines miserable, lame and
poor.
The eldest boy, Jim Keene, as I remember him, was a bright little
fellow, but wild as an Indian and full of mischief. The next eldest child,
Madge, was a girl of ten, her father's favorite, and she was wild enough
too. The youngest was Stumps. Poor, timid, starved Little Stumps! I
never knew his real name. But he was the baby, and hardly yet out of
petticoats. And he was very short in the legs, very short in the body,
very short in the arms and neck; and so he was called Stumps because
he looked it. In fact he seemed to have stopped growing entirely. Oh,
you don't know how hard the old Plains were on everybody, when we
crossed them in ox-wagons, and it took more than half a year to make
the journey. The little children, those that did not die, turned brown like
the Indians, in that long, dreadful journey of seven months, and stopped
growing for a time.
For the first month or two after reaching the Sierras, old Mr. Keene
limped about among the mines trying to learn the mystery of finding
gold, and the art of digging. But at last, having grown strong enough,
he went to work for wages, to get bread for his half-wild little ones, for

they were destitute indeed.
Things seemed to move on well, then. Madge cooked the simple meals,
and Little Stumps clung to her dress with his little pinched brown hand
wherever she went, while Jim whooped it over the hills and chased
jack-rabbits as if he were a greyhound. He would climb trees, too, like
a squirrel. And, oh!--it was deplorable--but how he could swear!
At length some of the miners, seeing the boy must come to some bad
end if not taken care of, put their heads and their pockets together and
sent the children to school. This school was a mile away over the
beautiful brown hills, a long, pleasant walk under the green California
oaks.
Well, Jim would take the little tin dinner bucket, and his slate, and all
their books under his arm and go booming ahead about half a mile in
advance, while Madge with brown Little Stumps clinging to her side
like a burr, would come stepping along the trail under the oak-trees as
fast as she could after him.
But if a jack-rabbit, or a deer, or a fox crossed Jim's path, no matter
how late it was, or how the teacher had threatened him, he would drop
books, lunch, slate and all, and spitting on his hands and rolling up his
sleeves, would bound away after it, yelling like a wild Indian. And
some days, so fascinating was the chase, Jim did not appear at the
schoolhouse at all; and of course
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