“Why,” said Jeff, “I have known miners who had worked hard all day to tramp several miles into camp through mud and rain to hear Kelly play and sing some favorite song that their sisters, or some other fellow’s sister, had been accustomed to sing a few years before away at the other side of the continent.”
Some one asked old Pike if he had forgotten the song entitled “Joe Bowers” that he used to sing to the boys in Georgetown cañon in early days. He replied that he hadn’t sung it for many long years, but if they desired to hear it he would sing it. The desire being unanimous, he seated himself upon the table, and in a clear voice sang the old and long-forgotten ballad, and as it may be new to many and will recall to old-timers the scenes and incidents of early days, I give the words for their benefit:
JOE BOWERS.
My name it is Joe Bowers. I’ve got a brother Ike;
I came from old Missouri, yes, all the way from Pike.
I’ll tell you why I left thar, and how I came to roam,
And leave my poor old mammy so fur away from home.
I used to court a girl thar, her name was Sally Black,
I axed her if she’d marry me, she said it was a whack;
But then says she, “Joe Bowers, before we hitch for life.
You ought to git a little home to keep yer little wife.”
Oh, Sally, dearest Sally! oh, Sally, for your sake,
I’ll go to California and try to raise a stake.
Says she to me, “Joe Bowers, you are the man to win,
Here’s a kiss to bind the bargain,” and she hove a dozen in.
When I got to that country I hadn’t “nary red,”
I had such woolfish feelings I almost wished I was dead;
But the thoughts of my dear Sally soon made them git,
And whispered hopes to Bowers—I wish I had ’em yit.
Right soon I went to minin’, put in my biggest licks,
Came down upon the boulders jest like a thousand o’ bricks.
I worked both late and early, in sun, in rain, in snow,
I was workin’ for my Sally—’twas all the same to Joe.
Bime by I got a letter from my dear brother Ike;
It came from old Missouri—all the way from Pike;
It brought to me the derndest news that ever you did hear—
My heart is almost burstin’, so pray excuse this tear.
It said Sal was false to me, her love for me had fled,
She’d got married to a butcher; the butcher’s head was red,
And more than than, the letter said—it almost makes me swar—
That Sally had a baby, and the baby had red har.