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Updated: May 6, 2025
Yet another, as low down on his luck, perhaps, as it was possible even for a Boulder Creeker to be, was washing the gravel in his old felt hat, and had stripped the shirt from his back to lay on the ground as a receptacle for the gold he found; and the pile on the shirt showed he had struck a promising patch.
Indeed, that visit, and the recollection of Ralph's saying that Jesus Christ was a sort of a Flat Creeker himself, were manna in the wilderness to Bud. Poor Shocky was sick. The excitement had been too much for him, and though his fever was very slight it was enough to produce just a little delirium. Either Ralph or Miss Martha was generally at the cabin.
"I think he was a sort of a Flat Creeker himself," said Ralph, slowly and very earnestly. "You don't say?" said Bud, almost getting off his seat. "Why, you see the town he lived in was a rough place. It was called Nazareth, which meant 'Bush-town." "You don't say?" "And he was called a Nazarene, which was about the same as 'backwoodsman."
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