Short stories

Mark Twain


At sunset yesterday, the wind commenced blowing after a fashion to which a typhoon is mere nonsense, and in a short time the face of heaven was obscured by vast clouds of dust all spangled over with lumber, and shingles, and dogs and things. There was no particular harm in that, but the breeze soon began to work damage of a serious nature. Thomas Moore's new frame house on the east side of C street, above the Court House, was blown down, and the fire-wall front of a one story brick building higher up the street was also thrown to the ground. The latter house was occupied as a store by Mr. Heldman, and owned by Mr. Felton. The storm was very severe for a while, and we shall not be surprised to hear of further destruction having been caused by it. The damage resulting to Mr. Heldman's grocery store, amounts to $2,200.



Our father Mammon who art in the Comstock, bully is thy name; let thy dividends come, and stock go up, in California as in Washoe. Give us this day our daily commissions; forgive us our swindles as we hope to get even on those who have swindled us. Unlead--us not into temptation of promising wild cat; deliver us from lawsuits; for thine is the main Comstock, the black sulphurets and the wire silver, from wallrock to wall-rock, you bet!



We have heard of thieves becoming so inclined to pilfer as to steal a red hot stove, but that isn't a circumstance to what we witnessed on C street yesterday, viz: the attempted theft of a cold one by a horse. Some of our light-fingered gentry should purchase that animal immediately. The gentleman who was astride him was busily engaged in conversation, when the horse, espying some stoves neatly stuffed with hay nearby, and being voraciously inclined, soon buried his head in one of them up to his eyes; but in attempting to remove his head from the stove aforesaid, which was a very large one, he found that it had got him. Upon making this discovery, he immediately began describing various geometrical figures through the crowd such as triangles, squares and circles forwards, and arcs etc., backwards - the stove still clinging firmer to his nose. But spying a policeman, he all at once seemed to have come to the conclusion that instead of the stove having him he had got the stove, and away he bounded with his unwilling rider at a fearful speed. Fortunately the violent plunging of the animal soon disarranged the stove, or we might have had a sad accident to record.

News || Guest Writers || Mark Twain || Dan DeQuille || Humor || Travel
Territorial Enterprise
Publishing Since 1858

TE Printer
© 1999 All Rights Reserved