LAKE MARIE AND BLUFF LAKE. 69 



Colonel took the picture. The old man told us they 

 lived on a small ranch about seven miles up the river. 

 He and his wife had settled there about twelve years 

 previously, and with the exception of the large family 

 of youngsters they were -as poor as when they came. 

 The Colonel promised to send them the picture when it 

 was finished, and after disrobing themselves of the 

 borrowed finery away they went. 



About five weeks afterward I was walking down the 

 main street of the little town six miles from the 

 Squire's house, when I came across the old man driving 

 a pair of dilapidated mules with an old broken wagon 

 attached. He stopped at once when I hailed him. 



"Well, old chap," I said, "how did the photograph 

 come out?" 



"Gol darn the pictur, anyway," he answered, testily; 

 "Mariah and I sent it to her Pap, with a letter saying 

 as how we had more stock and land than we knew 

 what to do with, and money to burn, thinking it would 

 kind of make Marian's folks think how smart we wus; 

 and threw in a hint that in writing back they ought to 

 address the letter to Squire Gawk instead of calling me 

 plain Jimmy Gawk as they was used to. Sure enough, 

 Marian's Pap writ back, and said as how now we was 

 so well fixed he would leave the farm to Mariah's 

 brother Tom; and that Mariah's old Uncle Abe, who had 

 died three days after he received our letter, had altered 

 his will directly he saw it and left as fine a section of 

 grazing land as could be found in the state to Mariah's 

 seventh cousin, sayin' he guessed we wouldn't need it, 

 anyhow. And there's a hull pile of my old neighbors 

 wrote to tell me they're all coming on here, and looks 

 to me to stake 'em until they gets fixed, sayin' that ef 

 an old galoot like me can get so well fixed as I am 

 they reckon they'll be runnin' for gov'nor before they've 

 been here six months. And the worst of it is, that 

 since the news has came, there's no livin' with Mariah, 

 she's so pesterful and mean and, of course, woman- 

 like, lays all the blame on me. Well, well," the old man 



