.MTIwNg.OTMxNDI: Difference between revisions

Revision as of 18:20, 7 October 2020

Thursday December 20th 1849 I labor under a strong feeling of discouragement. We are unable to work and have to live idling in the tent. Passing wearily the precious hours. Are we fated to druge forever along the tract of Piniiry. Always between wind and water and newver to ful. like strong ..... .... that we are masters of the waves of misfortune. I consider it an unfortunate position when a man fals weary ...is valuable and yet is hindered from applying his powers. Discouragement are for titularly annoying in this counrty. When gold sums plenty succefs like a shadow is always just before. This man is making an ounce or two per day. that man had been lucky and found a pocket of six or twelve ounces. Whereever you must .... tent contains the precious dust- gold is plenty. .... And yet where is the gold which shall land with us at home and make us independent in future years. We ses much yet where is that which should be ours.

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 Thursday December 20th 1849
-I labor under a strong feeling of discouragement. We are unable to work and have to live idling in the tent - passing wearily the precious hours.  Are we fated to drudge forever along the road of Penury - always between wind and water and never to feel - like strong bodied swimmers that we are masters of the waves of misfortune.  I consider it an unfortunate position - where a man feels every moment is valuable and yet is hindered from applying his powers.  Discouragements are particularly annoying in this country - when gold seems plenty - and success - like a shadow is always just before.  This man is making an ounce or two per day - that man has been lucky and found a pocket of six or twelve ounces.  Wherever you meet a man he has gold in his pan every tent contains the precious dust - gold is plenty - none are in want - and yet where is the gold which shall land with us at home and make us independent in future years.  We see much - yet where is that which should be ours?
+I labor under a strong feeling of discouragement. We are unable to work and have to live idling in the tent.  Passing wearily the precious hours. Are we fated to druge forever along the tract of Piniiry. Always between wind and water and newver to ful. like strong ..... .... that we are masters of the waves of misfortune. I consider it an unfortunate position when a man fals weary ...is valuable and yet is hindered from applying his powers. Discouragement are for titularly annoying in this counrty. When gold sums plenty succefs like a shadow is always just before. This man is making an ounce or two per day. that man had been lucky and found a pocket of six or twelve ounces. Whereever you must .... tent contains the precious dust- gold is plenty. .... And yet where is the gold which shall land with us at home and make us independent in future years. We ses much yet where is that which should be ours.
-Frank the lucky miner of whom I spoke last Saturday - the next day - took up a bucket of dust and found $235.00 in it.  The high water has since prevented him from working in his place.  Such success - is fever exciting to the rest of us.  We had about concluded Franks luck - was a point of encouragement to us Natomians - thinking the high water had caused the fine deposit in his hole - when all our hopes were squashed - in the discovery that this gold was indoubtedly that which a miner lost last year while engaged in making the dam.  It was about $500 and was secured in a bag - accidently he dropped it in the river and employed himself ineffectually a long time - to fish it up.
-I should enjoy this mining life finely - if our success was only bright.  I hope the sun may break the clouds which now hang round over house.
-Yesterday was a cold dismal day.  We went down to the island - and worked till the rain setting in drove us off.  It was hard labour - the water chilled me through - while the labour fatigued me greatly.  We cannot work so easily - when we have to work so unsteadily.  It requires a day to renew old habits.  The wind came on at night furiously from the eastward.  It shook our tent like a reed.  The stovepipe rattled down - the poles bent and swayed and

.MTIwNg.OTMxNDI: Difference between revisions

Revision as of 18:20, 7 October 2020

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