id	author	title	date	pages	extension	mime	words	sentences	flesch	summary	cache	txt
8402	Harte, Bret	East and West: Poems			.txt	text/plain	13455	1324	95	Till one night, when the sea-fog wrapped a shroud "Well, you see, the fact is, Colonel, I don't know as I can come: "And then, for an old man like me, it's not exactly right, For 'twas all, sir, a put-up job on a pore young man like me; A chap t'other day--now, look'ee, this is a fact, There were none like the Spring of San Joaquin. And dim and ghost-like far away Two days passed: the Mission folk Look for a spot in the old South Sea, Lost like the day of Job's awful curse, And the way to look for a thing is plain Wait till the rolling year goes round, And one for the day we lost last year." Lie the lost days of our tropic youth, Said Brown, as the lady came to a full stop, Walk like Cooke." Looked less like the man who raked the hay	./cache/8402.txt	./txt/8402.txt