18933 On the North Fork 



In October, 1893, I had occasion to cross the toll 

 bridge over the forks of the American River in 

 Placer County, and then talked with the keeper, who 

 had known Mr. Stanford at Michigan Bluff. His 

 remarks I that day recorded in the following lines: 



On the North Fork 

 (the keeper of the tollgate speaks) 



Well, yes, I knew him; forty years ago, 

 Or maybe thirty-five, he lived up here, 

 Up at the bluff above the old North Fork — 

 Michigan Bluff, we called it in those days; 

 He kept a miners' store — a stock in trade 

 Of odds and ends of all sorts. He was then 

 A sturdy fellow, full of schemes and plans, 

 But sticking like a bulldog, once they're made. 



He never trusted to a turn of cards; 



He spent his money only on his wife 



And on his schemes, and somehow day by day 



He seemed to cut a little wider swath. 



But he was poor and none too proud at that, 



For I have seen him with his loaded cart. 



Driving along here on the rough red roads 



That run through Placer County east and west 



From Clipper Gap to Lone Star and beyond, 



From Yuba Canyon on to Placerville. 



We fellows laughed then at the pains he took 

 To balance up his books and square accounts. 

 With us, come easy — and it easy went. 

 The stream of gold dust from the old North Fork 

 Flowed in our pockets and flowed out again, 

 And left them just as empty as before. 



But 'twas not so with him, sir. Not a thought 

 Of cards or wine or woman ever moved 

 His mind a moment from his purposes; 

 And everything he touched turned into gold. 



c 491 ^ 



