I may state that to add to our discomforts in a new place, the Northern Pacific Railroad mischecked our Saratoga trunk, containing all my wife's apparel, that of my little girl and some of my own, besides articles of peerless worth to ourselves, and had it not been for Mrs. Moore's (Helena) generosity and self-denial, I am sure my wife would not have been alive to-day.

That's a fair pair of buzzies you've got there.

As Off to the South'ard We Go (Anchor Song) The wind is free, and we're bound for the sea, Heave away cheerily, ho, oh! The lasses are waving to you and me, As off to the South'ard we go-o, As off to the South'ard we go. Chorus Sing, my lads, cheerily, heave, my lads, cheerily, Heave away cheerily, ho, oh! For gold that we prize, and sunnier skies, Away to the South'ard we go.

While he is yelling, in the midst of a sort of scuffle, the men about him are threatening and bawling, “ Whar gangst thou, dafy? — wilt tramp the lad’s face!” and so forth.