The Luck of Roaring Camp, and Other SketchesJ.C. Hotten, 1873 - 256 pages Bret Harte's fantastic short stories provided loving portraits of individuals on the margins of American society. In this collection, he delves into the world of those who saw an opportunity in the goldrush and mined California. This work is considered the definitive fictional work on the California Goldrush and has remained in print for over a century. |
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agin Altascar asked baby beside Boonder boys Brown cabin carpet-bag child Circassian Clytemnestra Clytie Commander dark Dedlow Marsh door drifting Duchess excitement expressman eyes face fancy father feet fell fire gambler George glance grave gray horse hair hand head horse Judge knew laugh lifted looked Luck lying Marysville master McSnagley Miggles Miss Mary MISSION DOLORES Mission hills Mliss Morpher Mother Shipton never night Oakhurst Paquita pardner passed Peleg perhaps pines Piney Poker Flat Rattler red dust Red Gulch Red Mountain riata river road Roaring Camp Salvatierra San Carlos Sandy Bar school-house seemed shadow silence sitting smile Smith's Pocket stranger Stumpy suddenly Tennessee Tennessee's Partner thar ain't thing thought tion Tommy took tree Tryan turned Uncle Billy uncon voice walked wall wind Wingdam woman young Yuba Bill
Popular passages
Page 36 - ... silence of the camp. And when pitying fingers brushed the snow from their wan faces, you could scarcely have told from the equal peace that dwelt upon them which was she that had sinned. Even the law of Poker Flat recognized this, and turned away, leaving them still locked in each other's arms. But at the head of the gulch, on one of the largest pine-trees, they found the deuce of clubs pinned to the bark with a bowieknife.
Page 25 - He then endeavored to dissuade Tom Simson from delaying further, but in vain. He even pointed out the fact that there was no provision, nor means of making a camp. But, unluckily, the Innocent met this objection by assuring the party that he was provided with an extra mule loaded with provisions, and by the discovery of a rude attempt at a loghouse near the trail. " Piney can stay with Mrs. Oakhurst," said the Innocent, pointing to the Duchess,
Page 28 - ... and had accidentally stampeded the animals. He dropped a warning to the Duchess and Mother Shipton, who of course knew the facts of their associate's defection. "They'll find out the truth about us all when they find out anything," he added significantly, " and there's no good frightening them now.
Page 19 - THE OUTCASTS OF POKER FLAT As Mr. John Oakhurst, gambler, stepped into the main street of Poker Flat on the morning of the 23d of November, 1850, he was conscious of a change in its moral atmosphere since the preceding night.
Page 33 - m going," she said, in a voice of querulous weakness, "but don't say anything about it. Don't waken the kids. Take the bundle from under my head, and open it." Mr. Oakhurst did so. It contained Mother Shipton's rations for the last week, untouched. " Give 'em to the child," she said, pointing to the sleeping Piney.
Page 15 - ... that position for at least five minutes with unflinching gravity. He was extricated without a murmur. I hesitate to record the many other instances of his sagacity, which rest, unfortunately, upon the statements of prejudiced friends. Some of them were not without a tinge of superstition. "I crep
Page 36 - And pulseless and cold, with a Derringer by his side and a bullet in his heart, though still calm as in life, beneath the snow lay he who was at once the strongest and yet the weakest of the outcasts of Poker Flat.
Page 62 - I was passin' by," he began, by way of apology, " and I thought I'd just step in and see how things was gittin' on with Tennessee thar — my pardner.
Page 31 - ... when a man gets a streak of luck — nigger-luck — he don't get tired. The luck gives in first. Luck," continued the gambler, reflectively, " is a mighty queer thing. All you know about it for certain is that it's bound to change.
Page 70 - ... hesitation gradually withdrew. As they crossed the little ridge that hid Sandy Bar from view, some, looking back, thought they could see Tennessee's Partner, his work done, sitting upon the grave, his shovel between his knees, and his face buried in his red bandanna handkerchief.