He came within one pail of water of
comparative wealth; but had he discovered that pocket, he would probably
have settled down as a pocketminer, and might have pounded quartz for
the rest of his life. Had his nerve held out a moment longer, he would
never have gone to Angel's Camp, would never have heard The Story of the
Jumping Frog, and would have escaped that sudden fame which this little
story soon brought him.
On his return to San Francisco, he dropped in one morning to see Bret
Harte, and told him this story. As Harte records:
"He spoke in a slow, rather satirical drawl, which was in itself
irresistible. He went on to tell one of those extravagant stories,
and half-unconsciously dropped into the lazy tone and manner of the
original narrator. I asked him to tell it again to a friend who
came in, and they asked him to write it for 'The Californian'. He
did so, and when published it was an emphatic success. It was the
first work of his that had attracted general attention, and it
crossed the Sierras for an Eastern reading.
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