Once on a time there was a ranch with a church on it amongst other
things. There was also a winery, and a man for whom the manager tried
to find work that he could do, having got down to weeding which was
not a success, he gave him the winemaker's shanty in which to sleep
close to the winery which he was to see was safe; and Sundays he was
to sweep the church by 11 o'clock. The manager had been doing this
when he took the flowers down formerly, coming down the first Sunday
that the man was to have done it, it was not done; so after getting
the church ready, the manager drove to the winery and found the door
forced, shouted down a trap door and the man appeared from below,
saying that four men with clubs had broken in; he watched them from
his window being afraid to interfere; but there were four empty wine
bottles in his room, he was told to pack. As he was sulky and wanted
to argue with a club full of nails to help him, he was put on the
floor and his head bumped till he was reasonable; the blacksmith put
his head in and requested that the man should not be killed. Manager
said he was not worth it and sent blacksmith off to put him on the
cars. Had smith fix the winery door again, after which they went to
church just in time to meet the clergyman from town. A very pretty
little church, built in memory of her husband who owned the ranch on
the road to the village (one hundred and ranch, by his widow. There
is a long tunnel on this thirty yards long) made by the last owner
trying for coal. When he did not find coal, he made a road of the
tunnel, and a big reservoir by banking at one end, fifty feet of this
embankment washed out in our big flood year (ground squirrels had
been working in it) and swept a railroad bridge away further down. We
come through nights without a light often and feel our way along the
sides with the whip, as dark a place as I ever was in, and there is
not above eighteen inches to spare, each side your wheels. Coming out
at one end there is a long downhill and once on a wagon with no break
or foot board. Sitting on top of a load of wheat the wagon ran onto
the four horses and away we went, the driver swung the horses off the
road onto the plough to the mountains, the only way to save a smash;
but as he swung, the rope loosened with the jerk and landed the sack
he sat on and him on his back in the road, close to the wheel, luckily
turning from him. He threw up the reins, the plough, etc., stopped the
horses and another man and he having sorted them out, got a better
wagon. That is enough about ranching.
[Illustration: The Day of Rest.]
[Illustration: Saionara.]
[Illustration:
"Went down the hill without the drag on,
Poor Mary Ann.
Mother she waxed her, petted her and kissed her,
Docter he came and he put on a blister,
If she'd a' died we'd never a' missed her;
Poor Mary Ann."
]
[Illustration: Man in a Slough.]