If you think of going mining,
Better stop and think some more.
For if you do, you’ll be worse off
Than you ever were before.
Every cent you can beg or borrow,
Will go into the ground.
You never will be satisfied,
‘Till you have drilled another ‘round’.
You will work like a fool
From daylight ‘till dark,
You will find that mining
Isn’t much of a lark.
What little rest you get
Won’t do you much good.
When you should be sleeping,
You’ll be out rustling wood.
The wind will come down the pipe,
Fill the cabin with smoke.
You can’t get your breath,
And will finally choke.
In the summer you’ll roast.
In the winter you’re cold.
You won’t find any lead,
Much less any gold.
If you do find a paystreak,
The market will drop.
It will keep going down,
It never will stop.
Your powder will freeze
Your fuse won’t burn.
You will be so disgusted
You won’t give a durn.
The drills won’t cut,
The rock won’t break.
You’ll wish you could die
When you get a ‘powder headache’.
If you have a compressor,
The motor won’t run.
You will find that mining
Sure isn’t much fun.
Your grub will be mostly,
Spuds, rabbits and beans.
You will ruin your shoes,
And wear out your jeans.
When you’re drilling, or mucking
Your light will go out.
You will mutter and cuss,
As you stumble about.
You will long for the sunshine
As you shovel and dig.
When you get out of the tunnel
You feel like dancing a jib.
The snow will start falling
And piling up high.
If a slide catches you, they will sing
“In the Sweet Bye and Bye”.
The drifts will get deeper,
And as deeper they get,
The more you will worry,
The more you will fret.
As you wallow in snow
Clear up to your neck.
You’re blue with the cold
And a glibbering wreck.
As you slip and fall
And flounder and curse.
You wonder if ‘hell’
Could be any worse?
The ‘porkies’ and rats
Will drive you insane.
You vow you will never
Go mining again.
The rats chew your blankets
They ruin your grub.
You chase ‘porkies’ all night
With flashlight and club.
I’ll tell you this, for whatever it’s worth,
Before you tackle that tough old earth.
Don’t start to mine, ‘less you know what you’re about,
More money has been sunk, than has been taken out.
It’s a slow tough job, takes lots of sweat
And elbow grease, you can safely bet,
You’ll be older, and wiser, and poorer too,
And wore to a frazzle, before you’re thru.
Your gas will be half water,
Your airline will part.
I tell you you’re licked
Before you can start.
Your partners will quit,
Leave you holding the sack.
Creditors will take the shirt,
Off your poor aching back.
Your hair will be gray, if you have any left?
The old money poke, won’t have any heft.
Your back will be bent, creaking and sore,
You used to be strong, but not anymore.
Your joints are stiff, your teeth are no good.
If you talk about mining, you’re not understood.
When you smell good vittles, you slobber and drool,
People call you “that crazy old fool”.
Your time is about up, you can’t stand the cold
You’ll be sent to the poor house, will do as you’re told.
When your time comes to die, you’ll die all alone,
Too late to do different, you had to be shown.
No one to care for, nor to care in return.
Heaven is off limits, you’ll just have to burn.
So think once again, before mining you go,
I know from experience, it’s a hard row to hoe.
KB, 1968, Scribblings from a Hermits Pen
I lived in Montana most of my life and new K.B, Browning. I have copies of two of his books of poems. Both are autographed to me. Can you tell me where I can purchase additional copies? Thanks
Hi Kay, thank you for visiting the site. I’m excited to hear you have two copies of my Uncle’s books. I don’t think you can buy them right now but we are working on that. ~Monica