Explanatory Notes
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Apparatus Notes
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CHAPTER 61
[begin page 416]

CHAPTER 61emendation

One of my comrades there—another of those victims of eighteen years of unrequited toil and blighted hopes—was one of the gentlest spirits that ever bore its patient cross in a weary exile: grave and simpleemendation Dick Baker, pocket-minerexplanatory note of Dead-Horse Gulchtextual note.explanatory note emendation He was forty-six, gray as a rat, earnest, thoughtful, slenderly educated, slouchily dressed and clay-soiled, but his heart was finer metal than any gold his shovel ever brought to light—than any, indeed, that ever was mined or minted.

Wheneveremendation he was out of luckemendation and a little down-hearted, he would fall to mourning over the loss of a wonderful cat he used to own (for where women and children are not, men of kindly impulses take up with pets, for they must love something.) And he always spoke of the strange sagacity of that cat with the air of a man who believed in his secret heart that there was something human about it—maybeemendation even supernatural.

tom quartz.

I heard him talking about this animal onceexplanatory note. He said, “Gentlemen, I used to have a cat here, by the name of Tom Quartz, which you’d a took an interest in I reckon—most anybodyemendation would. I had him here eightemendation year—and he was the remarkablest cat I ever see. He was a large gray one of the Tom specie, an’ he had more hard, natchralemendation sense than any man in this camp—’n’emendation a power of dignity—he wouldn’t aemendation lettextual note the Gov’ner of Californyemendation be familiar with him. He never ketched a rat in his life—’peared to be above it. He never cared for nothing but mining. He knowed more about mining, that cat did, than any man I ever [begin page 417] ever see. You couldn’t tell him noth’n’ ’bout placer diggin’s—’n’emendation as for pocket-miningemendation, why he was just born for it. He would dig out after me an’ Jim when we went over the hills prospect’n’emendation, and he would trot along behind us for as much as five mile, if we went so fur. An’emendation he had the best judgment about mining ground—why you never see anything like it. When we went to work, he’d scatter a glance around, ’n’emendation if he didn’t think much of the indications, he would give a look as much as to say, ‘Wellemendation, I’ll have to get you to excuse me,’ ’n’emendation without another word he’d hyste his nose into the air ’n’ shove for home. But if the ground suited him, he would lay low ’n’ keep dark till the first pan was washed, ’n’emendation then he would sidle up ’n’ take a look, an’emendation if there was about six or seven grains of gold he was satisfied—he didn’t want no better prospect ’nemendation that—’n’ then he would lay down on our coats and snore like a steamboat till we’d struck the pocket, an’ then get up ’n’emendation superintend. He was nearly lightnin’ on superintending.emendation

“Well, by an’ byemendation, up comes this yeremendation quartz excitement. Everybody was into it—everybodyemendation was pick’n’ ’n’ blast’n’emendation instead of shovelin’emendation dirt on the hillside—everybodyemendation was put’n’emendation down a shaft instead of scrapin’ the surface. Noth’n’emendation would do Jim, but we must tackle the ledges, too, ’n’ so we did. We commenced put’n’emendation down a shaft, ’n’ Tom Quartz he begin to wonder what in the Dickens it was all about. He hadn’t ever seen any mining like that before, ’n’emendation he was all upset, as you may say—he couldn’t come to a right understanding of it no way—it was too many for him. He was down on it, too, you bet you—he was down on it powerful—’n’emendation always appeared to consider it the cussedest foolishness out. But that cat, you know, wasemendation always agin new fangled arrangements—somehow he never could abide ’em. You emendation know how it is with old habits. But by an’ by Tom Quartz begin to git sort of reconciled a little, though he never could altogether understand that eternal sinkin’emendation of a shaft an’ never pannin’emendation out anythingemendation. At last he got to comin’emendation down in the shaft, hisself, to try to cipher it out. An’ when he’d gitemendation the blues, ’n’ feel kind o’ scruffy, ’n’ aggravated ’n’emendation disgusted—knowin’emendation as he did, that the bills was runnin’ up all the time an’emendation we warn’t makin’ a cent—he would curl up on a gunny sack in the corner an’emendation go to sleep. Well, one day when the shaft was down about eightemendation [begin page 418] foot, the rock got so hard that we had to put in a blast—the first blast’n’ we’d ever done since Tom Quartz was born. An’emendation then we lit the fuse ’n’ clumb out ’n’emendation got off ’bout fiftyemendation yards—’n’ forgot ’n’emendation left Tom Quartz sound asleep on the gunny sack. In ’bout a minute we seen a puff of smoke bust up out of the hole, ’n’emendation then everything let go with an awful crash, ’n’ about four million ton of rocks ’n’emendation dirt ’n’ smoke ’n’emendation splinters shot up ’bout a mile an’ a half into the air, an’emendation by George, right in the dead centreemendation of it was old Tom Quartz a goin’emendation end over end, an’ a snortin’ an’ a sneez’n’, an’ a clawin’ an’ a reachin’emendation for things like all possessed.

an advantage taken.
But it warn’t no use, you know, it warn’t no use. An’emendation that was the last we see of him for about two minutes ’n’ a half, an’ then all of a sudden it begin to rain rocks and rubbage, an’emendation directly he come down ker-whop about ten foot off f’m where we stood. Well, I reckon he was p’raps the orneriest lookin’emendation beast you ever see. One ear was sot back on his neck, ’n’ his tail was stove up, ’n’emendation his eye-winkers was swinged off, ’n’ he was all blacked up with powder an’emendation smoke,emendation an’ all sloppy with mud ’n’ slush f’memendation one end to the other. Well sir, it [begin page 419] warn’t no use to try to apologize—we couldn’t say a word. He took a sort of a disgusted look at hisself, ’n’ then he looked at us—an’emendation it was just exactly the same as if he had said—‘Gentsemendation, maybeemendation you think it’s smart to take advantage of a cat that ain’temendation had no experience of quartz minin’emendation, but I think differentemendationan’ then he turned on his heel ’n’emendation marched off home without ever saying another word.

after an excursion.

“That was jest his style. An’emendation maybeemendation you won’t believe it, but after that you never see a cat so prejudiced agin quartz mining as what he was. An’ by an’ byemendation when he did get to goin’emendation down in the shaft agin, you’d a been astonished at his sagacity. The minute we’d tetch off a blast ’n’emendation the fuse’d begin to sizzle, he’d give a look as much as to say: ‘Wellemendation, I’ll have to git you to excuse me,’ an’emendation it was surpris’n’, the way he’d shin out of that hole ’n’ go f’remendation a tree. Sagacityemendation textual note? It ain’t no name for it. ’Twas inspiration!

I said, “Well, Mr. Baker, his prejudiceemendation against quartz miningemendation was remarkable, considering how he came by it. Couldn’t you ever cure him of it?”

Cure emendation him! No!emendation When Tom Quartz was sot once, he was always sot—and you might a blowed him up as much as threeemendation million times ’n’ you’d never a brokenemendation him of his cussed prejudice agin quartz mining.”

The affection and the pride that lit up Baker’s face when he delivered this tribute to the firmness of his humble friend of other days, will always be a vivid memory with me.explanatory note emendation

At the end of two months we had never “struck” a pocket. We had panned up and down the hillsides till they looked plowed like a field; we could have put in a crop of grain, then, but there would have been no way to get it to market. We got many good “prospects,” but when the gold gave out in the pan and we dug down, hoping and longing, we found only emptiness—the pocket that should have been there was as barren as our own.emendation At last we shouldered our pans and shovels and struck out over the hills to try new localities. We prospected around Angel’s Camp, in Calaveras Countyemendation, during three weeksexplanatory note, but had no success. Then we wandered [begin page 420] on foot among the mountains, sleeping under the trees at night, for the weather was mild, but still we remained as centless as the last rose of summer. That is a poor joke, but it is in pathetic harmony with the circumstances, since we were so poor ourselves. In accordance with the custom of the country, our door had always stood open and our board welcome to tramping miners—they drifted along nearly every day, dumped their postemendation textual note shovelsexplanatory note by the threshold and took “pot luck” with us—and now on our own tramp we never found cold hospitality.

Our wanderings were wide and in many directions; and now I could give the reader a vivid description of the Big Trees and the marvels of the Yo Semite—but what has this reader done to me that I should persecute him? I will deliver him into the hands of less conscientious touristsexplanatory note and take his blessing. Let me be charitable, though I fail in all virtues else.



Some of the phrases in the above are mining technicalities, purely, and may be a little obscure to the general reader. In “placer diggings” the gold is scattered all through the surface dirt; in “pocket” diggings it is concentrated in one little spot; in “quartz” the gold is in a solid, continuous vein of rock, enclosed between distinct walls of some other kind of stone—and this is the most laborious and expensive of all the different kinds of mining. “Prospecting” is hunting for a “ placer;”emendationindications” are signs of its presence; “panning out” refers to the washing process by which the grains of gold are separated from the dirt; a “prospect” is what one finds in the first panful of dirt—and its value determines whether it is a good or a bad prospect, and whether it is worth while to tarry there or seek further.
Editorial Emendations CHAPTER 61
  CHAPTER 61 (C)  ●  CHAPTER LXI. (A)  baker’s cat. (BE) 
  One . . . simple (A)  ●  Speaking of sagacity it reminds me of (BE) 
  Dead-Horse Gulch. (C)  ●  Dead-House Gulch.— (A)  Deadhorse Gulch. (BE) 
  He . . . Whenever (A)  ●  no Whenever (BE) 
  luck (A)  ●  luch (BE) 
  maybe (C)  ●  may be (BE) 
  anybody (C)  ●  any body (BE) 
  eight (A)  ●  8 (BE) 
  an’ . . . natchral (A)  ●  and . . . nat’ral (BE) 
  ’n’ (A)  ●  and (BE) 
  a (BE)  ●  not in  (A) 
  Californy (A)  ●  California (BE) 
  noth’n’ ’bout placer diggin’s—’n’ (A)  ●  nothing about placer diggings—and (BE) 
  pocket-mining (C)  ●  pocket mining (BE) 
  an’ . . . prospect’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . prospecting (BE) 
  fur. An’ (A)  ●  far. And (BE) 
  ’n’ (A)  ●  and (BE) 
  ‘Well (A)  ●  “Well (BE) 
  me,’ ’n’ (A)  ●  me,” and (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . ’n’ . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . and . . . and (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . an’ (A)  ●  and . . . and (BE) 
  ’n (BE)  ●  ’n’ (A) 
  ’n’ . . . an’ . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . and . . . and (BE) 
  He . . . superintending. (A)  ●  not in  (BE) 
  by an’ by (C)  ●  bye an’ bye (A)  bye and bye (BE) 
  yer (A)  ●  not in  (BE) 
  Everybody . . . everybody (C)  ●  Every body . . . every body (BE) 
  pick’n’ ’n’ blast’n’ (A)  ●  picking and blasting (BE) 
  shovelin’ (A)  ●  shoveling (BE) 
  hillside—everybody (C)  ●  hill side—every body (BE) 
  put’n’ (A)  ●  putting (BE) 
  scrapin’ . . . Noth’n’ (A)  ●  scraping . . . Nothing (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . put’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . putting (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . and (BE) 
  ’n’ (A)  ●  and (BE) 
  was (A)  ●  he was (BE) 
  You  (A)  ●  You (BE) 
  an’ . . . sinkin’ (A)  ●  and . . . sinking (BE) 
  an’ . . . pannin’ (A)  ●  and . . . panning (BE) 
  anything (C)  ●  any thing (BE) 
  comin’ (A)  ●  coming (BE) 
  An’ . . . git (A)  ●  And . . . get (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . ’n’ . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . not in . . . and (BE) 
  knowin’ (A)  ●  knowing (BE) 
  runnin’ . . . an’ (A)  ●  running . . . and (BE) 
  makin’ . . . an’ (A)  ●  making . . . and (BE) 
  eight (A)  ●  8 (BE) 
  blast’n’ . . . An’ (A)  ●  blasting . . . And (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . and (BE) 
  ’bout fifty (A)  ●  about 50 (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . and (BE) 
  ’bout . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  about . . . and (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . ton . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . tons . . . and (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . and (BE) 
  ’bout . . . an’ . . . an’ (A)  ●  about . . . and . . . and (BE) 
  dead centre (A)  ●  midst (BE) 
  a goin’ (A)  ●  going (BE) 
  an’ . . . a reachin’ (A)  ●  and a snorting and a sneezing, and a clawing and a reaching (BE) 
  An’ (A)  ●  And (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . an’ . . . an’ (A)  ●  and . . . and . . . and (BE) 
  f’m . . . lookin’ (A)  ●  from . . . looking (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . and (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . an’ (A)  ●  and . . . and (BE) 
  smoke, (A)  ●  smoke  (BE) 
  an’ . . . ’n’ . . . f’m (A)  ●  and . . . and . . . from (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . an’ (A)  ●  and . . . and (BE) 
  ‘Gents (A)  ●  “Gents (BE) 
  maybe (C)  ●  may be (A)  May be (BE) 
  ain’t (C)  ●  ’ain’t (BE) 
  minin’ (A)  ●  mining (BE) 
  different’ (A)  ●  different” (BE) 
  an’ . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  and . . . and (BE) 
  An’ (A)  ●  And (BE) 
  maybe (C)  ●  may be (BE) 
  An’ by an’ by (C)  ●  An’ by an’ bye (A)  And by and bye (BE) 
  goin’ (A)  ●  going (BE) 
  tetch . . . ’n’ (A)  ●  touch . . . and (BE) 
  ‘Well (A)  ●  “Well (BE) 
  git . . . me,’ an’ (A)  ●  get . . . me,” and (BE) 
  surpris’n’ . . . ’n’ . . . f’r (A)  ●  surprising . . . and . . . for (BE) 
  Sagacity (A)  ●  [¶] Sagacity (BE) 
  prejudice (A)  ●  predjudice (BE) 
  quartz mining (C)  ●  quartz-mining (A)  quart mining (BE) 
  “Cure  (A)  ●  Cure  (BE) 
  No! (A)  ●  NO. (BE) 
  three (A)  ●  3 (BE) 
  ’n’ . . . broken (A)  ●  and . . . broke (BE) 
  me. (A)  ●  me. indented from right Mark Twain. (BE) 
  own. (C)  ●  own.— (A) 
  County (C)  ●  county (A) 
  post (C)  ●  paust (A) 
  placer;” (C)  ●  placer;  (A) 
Textual Notes CHAPTER 61
  [begin page 941] Dead-Horse Gulch] When Mark Twain revised BE for inclusion in Roughing It, he added the first paragraph of this chapter in manuscript. He evidently intended to change “Deadhorse Gulch” to “Dead-Horse Gulch,” but the A typesetter erroneously set “Dead-House Gulch” instead. This error was transmitted from the first American edition into the second American edition (A2), first issued in 1899. When the American Publishing Company proofreader, Forrest Morgan, marked a copy of A2 in preparation for a new impression with corrected plates, he noted the error and suggested that it be called to Mark Twain’s attention. Some of Morgan’s corrections were listed on a separate sheet of paper, in the hand of Frank Bliss (president of the American Publishing Company), except for the last item, which reads “House should be Horse,” with the word “Horse” in Mark Twain’s hand. This inscription confirms that the reading in A through A2 was an error, and offers some further evidence that Mark Twain intended the word to be spelled as a hyphenated compound, rather than as one word. The BE reading “Deadhorse” has therefore been emended to “Dead-Horse.” (The copy of A2 marked with corrections by Forrest Morgan—“Royal Edition,” vols. 7–8—is at CtY-BR; the list of corrections is at ViU; see also the entry for A2 in the Description of Texts.)
 wouldn’t a let] The BE reading has been deemed preferable to the one in A, “wouldn’t let,” because its meaning, as a “contrary to fact” conditional, makes more sense in context; the “a” could very easily have been inadvertently dropped by a compositor. The same locution in a nearby phrase was transmitted from BE to A unaltered: “you’d a took” (416.19).
 Sagacity] The absence of a paragraph break here in A, while a break does occur in BE, is presumed to result from authorial revision. This presumption is based on the evidence provided by a copy of John Camden Hotten’s Choice Humorous Works of Mark Twain (HWa, 1873), which Mark Twain agreed to revise in preparation for a new edition (HWb). Hotten’s book included a text of the sketch which derived from the original BE printing, and thus still contained a paragraph break; in the margins of his copy Mark Twain instructed the typesetter to delete the paragraph break here and “run in” the text (see the entries for HWa and HWb in the Description of Texts).
 post] The A reading, “paust,” has been rejected as a misspelling. Mark Twain apparently meant “post,” which is “a batch of ore for smelting at one time. . . . This word is from German Posten, parcel, lot, batch of ore, which is of course pronounced with a short or open o. M.T.’s sp. with au may be his attempt to render the sound of a word which he knew only in the spoken language of the miners” ( Lex , 166).
Explanatory Notes CHAPTER 61
 In . . . me.] Mark Twain first published this passage in a Buffalo Express “Around the World” letter on 18 December 1869; he revised the earlier printing for inclusion in Roughing It (SLC 1869o).
 

Dick Baker, pocket-miner] In his Autobiographical Dictation of 26 May 1907 Clemens identified Baker as Dick Stoker, Jim Gillis’s partner and cabinmate. Jacob Richard Stoker (1820–98), originally from Kentucky, left a successful business in Illinois to fight in the Mexican War. After the war, in 1849, he joined the California gold rush and went to Jackass Hill, where he remained, eking out a living as a pocket miner. Many years later, Jim Gillis’s brother Steve recalled Stoker:

Dick Stoker—dear, gentle unselfish old Dick—died over three years ago, aged 78. I am sure it will be a melancholy pleasure to Mark to know that Dick lived in comfort all his later life, sincerely loved and respected by all who knew him. [begin page 705] He never left Jackass Hill. He struck a pocket years ago containing enough not only to build himself a comfortable house near his old cabin, but to last him, without work, to his painless end. He was a Mason, and was buried by the Order in Sonora. (Undated letter to A. B. Paine, quoted in MTL , 1:171)

Clemens always held Stoker in affection, recalling with particular pleasure his portrayal of a character in Jim Gillis’s skit “The Tragedy of the Burning Shame” (AD, 26 May 1907, CU-MARK, in MTE , 361; Stoker monument in the Masonic Cemetery, Sonora, photograph courtesy of Margaret Sanborn; Buckbee, 331; Gillis, 170–71; SLC to James Gillis, 26 Jan 70, PH in CU-MARK, courtesy of CCamarSJ, in MTL , 1:170–71).

 Dead-Horse Gulch] A fictional name for Jackass Gulch, adjacent to Jackass Hill.
 

I heard him talking about this animal once] Although Baker (i.e., Stoker) is represented here as the narrator, Clemens later identified Jim Gillis as the author of the story of Tom Quartz:

Every now and then Jim would have an inspiration, and he would stand up before the great log fire, with his back to it and his hands crossed behind him, and deliver himself of an elaborate impromptu lie—a fairy tale, an extravagant romance—with Dick Stoker as the hero of it as a general thing. Jim always soberly pretended that what he was relating was strictly history, veracious history, not romance. Dick Stoker, gray-headed and good-natured, would sit smoking his pipe and listen with a gentle serenity to these monstrous fabrications and never utter a protest. . . . I used another of Jim’s inventions in one of my books, the story of Jim Baker’s cat, the remarkable Tom Quartz. Jim Baker was Dick Stoker, of course; Tom Quartz had never existed; there was no such cat, at least outside of Jim Gillis’s imagination. (AD, 26 May 1907, CU-MARK, in MTE , 360–62)

Mark Twain made many changes when revising the Buffalo Express printing of this story, primarily in the spelling of dialect pronunciations (such as “ ’n’ ” for “and”), which brought the monologue closer to vernacular speech. Both the Express and the Roughing It versions were preceded by a manuscript sketch entitled “Remarkable Sagacity of a Cat,” probably written in June 1868 (SLC 1868f).

 We prospected around Angel’s Camp, in Calaveras County, during three weeks] Clemens was at Angel’s Camp, about seven miles northwest of Jackass Hill (across the Stanislaus River, the border with Calaveras County), between 22 January and 20 February 1865. Along with Gillis and Stoker, he spent some time prospecting, and some time sitting out the rainy weather listening to the conversation of the locals at the Angel’s Hotel bar. During this time he made several notebook entries recording anecdotes that he would later include in Roughing It ( N&J1 , 66, 76–81).
 post shovels] Shovels evidently used for digging ore: see the textual note.
 I could give the reader a vivid description of the Big Trees . . . less conscientious tourists] It is unclear whether Mark Twain is referring [begin page 706] to the giant sequoias at the Calaveras Grove of Big Trees, about twenty miles northeast of Angel’s Camp, or to the more spectacular Mariposa Grove, about thirty-five miles south of Yosemite Valley, mentioned by most travelers visiting the valley (Hart, 72, 304). He was probably familiar with typically reverent accounts of these sites in such works as Richardson’s Beyond the Mississippi (431–35), Bowles’s Our New West (391–94), Ludlow’s The Heart of the Continent (421–24), and Greeley’s Overland Journey (310–15). That he considered such accounts tiresome is suggested by an entry in his 1865–66 notebook: “Passenger volunteers account of journey to Big Trees & Yo Semite—& then Dan’s old Ram” ( N&J1 , 172).