Friday, December 29, 2017
For 8 months...camp fires...bad-back bedding...ticks...fleas...bears...wolves...hostiles of all varieties...until...finally...gave up...and...went to work selling newspapers. On the last day...the final day...that day when hope was gone...the mule wouldn't move. Tug...push...shove...nothing worked...mule just sat there and looked. Sometime later...when news of gold was heard...that former prospector went to where the gold was being mined...nuggets as big as ostrich eggs....and...turned away and said to his friend when asked "Why turn away from this magnificent scene?" replied that he was standing in the same place another jackass had stood.

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