Struggling to get up, the mule kicked the candle out and smashed most of the kitchen furniture, and raised considerable dust.

These violent awakenings must have been annoying to Oliver, but he never complained.

He moved to a mansion on the opposite side of the canon, because he had noticed the mules did not go there.

One night about eight o'clock he was endeavoring to finish his poem, when a stone rolled in--then a hoof appeared below the canvas--then part of a cow--the after part.

He leaned back in dread, and shouted "Hooy! hooy! get out of this!" and the cow struggled manfully--lost ground steadily--dirt and dust streamed down, and before Oliver could get well away, the entire cow crashed through on to the table and made a shapeless wreck of every thing! Then, for the first time in his life, I think, Oliver complained.