ntins, i kan see that quite plain, i do
belaiv he has a sowl above goold, an wood raither katch foxes an bars,
he sais heel stop another month wid us an then make traks for his owld
hants--just like the way we sailors long for the say after a spree on
shore, the i must say non of us say-dogs have any longin as yit to smel
salt water, big ben sais that this sort o work is nother good for body
nor sowl--an, dee no, i half belaiv hees rite, for kool the i am i feels
a litle feverish sometimes, i wos goin to tel ye a anikdot about mister
cupples an a brown bar, but the boys are off to the straim again, so i
must stop, but il resoom ritein after tay--hopin yool exkuse my fraquint
interupshuns, mister ostin, il go.

"Wel, heer i am again--just comed in wid a failin about my inside like a
botimles pitt, but thats aisy kured. il taik up the pen after tay, only
i want to tell ye weer in luk agin, i got fore nugits as big as walnuts,
and heeps o smal wans, an the rest has got a dale o goold wan way or
other, now for super.

"There, the pitts fild up now. wel, whair was i. och! yes, it was about
mister cupples an the brown bar. you must no that hees got the fever
pritty bad, has mister cupples--the goold fever i mean, an goes off an
owr or too before the rest of us waiks up of a mornin, but he dont make
no more goold, which owld peter--yoo remimber owld peter, mister ostin--
sais is a spechiel visitashun for his beein avaridgious. anyhow, he gits
les slaip than the rest of us an no more goold. wel, as i wor sayin, he
wint off wan mornin up the straim, an it so hapind that big ben and
bunco wint in the saim direkshun. in the afternoon, as they was comin
home, they turned off the trak an sot down to rest a bit. who shood they
see comin along the trak soon arter but mister cupples. he was cumin
along slow--meditatin like--for he always comed back slow from digin, as
if he was loth to leav, but wint thair kuik enuff, anyhow, close behind
him wos trotin a big brown bar. the bar didnt see him, by raisin that
the trak was krookit and the skrub thik; but it was goin fast, and had
almost overhawled mister cupples whin he wos cloas to the place whair
the too men was hidin. heers fun, sais the traper, kokin his gun. bunco
he grin'd, but didnt spaik. yool remimber, mister osten, bunco had a way
of his own o grinin widout spaikin, but big ben sais his eyes more nor
makes up for his tung. wel, just as he comes fornint the too men, mister
cuppl