Round Tent Stable

The Round Tent Stable opened onto Center Street within a stone’s throw of the bell tower.  It was a rustic, two-story affair with a loft and a rip sawn plank roof.  The rear of the building, supported by posts, extended out over  Hangtown creek, and a small backroom offered a bird’s eye view of its murky waters if one peered beneath either lid of the two-holer. What the facility lacked in environmental considerations it more than made up for in its ease of operation. The wagon was pulled into our new headquarters, the mules fed, groomed, and stabled, and at long last the three of us spread our blankets in the loft, doused the lamp, and sprawled contentedly on our backs; recalling the events of a long day, and studying the twinkling constellations through the ample gaps of that drafty plank roof.  “Midst pleasures and palaces where ever you may roam, be it ever so humble, there’s no place like home!”   OBIE’S QUEST