"So do I"-edging still closer to Hill. A moment's intermission.

"Yeou live abeout here, pre-haps?"

"No."

"Nuther dew I."

"Umph!"

"That's a strange coincidence."

Vermont here adjusted his cravat-a flowered velvet of a strong gamboge tint-the bow of which, terminating into a resemblance of a tipsy letter X, had imperceptibly jogged round and got under his ear. Bringing the bow back to its original position under his chin, he remarked

"Excuse me, Mister, do you ever expect tew come this way agin ?"

"Have no positive knowledge," laconically replied Hill. "I spose you don't like coach ridin' ?”

"No."

"Not half so nice as steamboat or cars, is't?"

"Quite agree with you."

Here he eased off for a moment or two, and then renewed the attack. Nudging his victim, he said—

"I'm an American, I am."

"Shouldn't have taken you for either a Frenchman or a Spaniard," dryly remarked the comedian.

"No? I'm glad to hear you say so. I've been told afore now that I had a real Russian mouth, and that my nose was on the Greek style, but I reckon they ain't if the truth wuz told."

If

What possible affinity there could exist between his mouth. and Russia, unless it was its extent, would be hard to conjecture. If Greek noses are of that long sort that hasten down to a red point, then his nose' was Grecian in the extreme. not, we will avoid a rash classification of the organ, which at a glance haply reminded one of a platina shell, with which lightning rods are tipped to guard against meteorological disasters.

Hill saw it was no use to thwart the fellow, for talk he would," come what, come may." The words bubbled through his lips as will-o'-the-wisps swell to the surface of a marsh. The comedian laid down the book, and the Yankee's eyes sparkled in the anticipation of a long, gossipy, old-fashioned chat.

"You're an American, I spose ?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Du yew know I thought you wuz.”

"Indeed ?"

"Great country this, eh ?" after a moment's hesitation. "Extraordinary country."

"Good kind of land tew be born in."

"True."

"Our mountains tower up as if they knew what they were about, eh ?"

"Unquestionably."

"Our rivers ain't no puddles nuther."

"Quite right."

"And I guess our lakes would make folks look if they were hard pushed."

"To be sure."

"I'm glad you agree with me on them pints, I am”—then relapsing for a moment into a blank silence, he started up again with

"What teown were you born in, if it's not an extravagant question ?"

"Boston."

Crinky, how odd!—I've often been there."

แ Ah, indeed!"

Pause of at least fifty-five seconds.

"Dew yeou know-now don't say it's curusity-but since we have got tew talkin', mister, dew yeou know I should like to know yeour name.”

"Would you?" said the comedian, laughing.

"It runs in my head I've seen you somewhere."

"O, indeed! I know a good many Hills livin' in Vermont; our head thresher's name is Hill, I swow. How odd! There's a goodish sprinklin' of Hills all over Vermont."

The comedian fancied for an instant, but only an instant, that his name had "given rise" to a pun, but a glance at the hard features of his friend convinced him the play on the word was grossly unintentional.

Well, how very strange I should know so many of yeour name! I shouldn't wonder if I knew people with yeour full What might yeour Christian

name.

Hill saw what was coming, and replied—

"George."

"Is that a fact? Oh, you're certainly joking. Why my name's George, too. Wheeler-George Wheeler's my name." "Oh !"

"Yes. Naow yeou were born ?"

"Ya as, 'zactly so. Boston, Massachusetts, of course." "Certainly; Boston, Massachusetts-New England-North America," said Hill, who, bored to death by this time with inquiries, placidly settled down in the corner of the coach and shut his eyes. Vermont was not to be thrown aside so easily, however; and contracting his sharp features-every angle of which seemed to ask a question-he stretched his neck, and said

"S'kuse me, but what part of Boston were yeou born ?" Hill's patience evaporated at that moment, and determining to tie up in a packet every possible interrogatory, replied"Near the centre, close by the Old South,' about four

o'clock in the morning, in the dead of winter, in Milk Street."

Hill thought he had left the fellow no margin now, and judge his surprise when he leaned over and said

"If it's not troublin' yeou too much, what side of Milk Street was yeou born on, AND WHAT WUZ THE NUMBER ?”

The comedian avows that after that "last stroke" he got out of the coach, and pursued the balance of the journey on the box with the driver.

257

A YANKEE IN THE GOLD REGION.

WHEN the golden sun of prospective California wealth first dawned upon the republic of the western world, the mania was sudden and intense. Everybody dreamed of riches, splendor, and coming happiness. An El Dorado had sprung up as from the magic wand of an enchanter, which was to confer blessings on the poor, and add to the gains of the opulent. The talk by day was gold; the dream by night was of the yellow metal! America was destined at last not only as the "cradle of liberty," but the inexhaustible mine to supply the world with dazzling riches. Dissatisfied emigrants, who had sought the "young country" with the view of bettering their condition, blessed their stars of destiny for guiding their footsteps to the Ophir of earthly hopes. Honest citizens, who had toiled along through life, now foresaw the period when all their brightest dreams should be realized. Artful speculators, big with ambition of "profits," and fearful of "loss," congratulated themselves on the approach of that "good time" which had been so "long coming."

An immediate gradation of fortune was expected. Errandboys would be clerks, and clerks masters. The race popularly · known as counter-jumpers would go out of existence, and assume some other form of dignity and importance. Signs, on which were shadowed in little bald letters the word, Retail, would fade away and swell in pompous capitals, WHOLESALE! Keepers of candy-shops would no longer retail half-starved sticks of slim sweetstuff, and "make themselves ridiculous"