ms, whose indurated hearts
nothing but the sharpest knife and the stoutest arm can penetrate? Have
we not got quintals of dreadful mackerel, fearfully crystallized in
black salt? Have we not barrels upon barrels of rusty pork, and flour
enough to victual a large army for the next two years? Yea, verily,
have we, and more also. For we have oysters in cans, preserved meats,
and sardines (apropos, I _detest_ them), by the hundred-boxful.

So, hush the trembling of that tender little heart, and shut those
tearful and alarmed eyes while I press a good-night kiss On their
drooping lids.

LETTER _the_ THIRTEENTH

[_The_ PIONEER, _March_, 1855]

SOCIABILITY _and_ EXCITEMENTS _of_ MINING-LIFE

SYNOPSIS

Departure Indian Bar of the mulatto Ned. His birthday-celebration
dinner, at which the New Year's piscatory phenomenon figures in the
bill of fare. A total disregard of dry laws at the dinner. Excitement
over reported discovery of quartz-mines. A complete humbug. Charges of
salting. Excitement renewed upon report of other new quartz-mines. Even
if rich, lack of proper machinery would render working thereof
impossible. Prediction that quartz-mines eventually will be the most
profitable. Miners decamp without paying their debts. Pursuit and
capture. Miners' court orders settlement in full. Celebration, by
French miners, of the Revolution of 1848. Invitation to dine at
best-built log cabin on the river. The habitation of five or six young
miners. A perfect marvel of a fireplace. Huge unsplit logs as firewood.
Window of glass jars. Possibilities in the use of empty glass
containers. Unthrift of some miners. The cabin, its furniture, store of
staple provisions, chinaware, cutlery. The dinner in the cabin. A cow
kept. Wonderful variety of makeshift candlesticks in use among the
miners. Dearth of butter, potatoes, onions, fresh meat, in camp.
Indian-summer weather at Indian Bar. A cozy retreat in the hills. A
present of feathered denizens of the mountains. Roasted for dinner.

Letter _the_ Thirteenth

SOCIABILITY _and_ EXCITEMENTS _of_ MINING-LIFE

_From our Log Cabin_, INDIAN BAR,

_February_ 27, 1852.

You will find this missive, dear M., a journal, rather than a letter;
for the few insignificant events which have taken place since I last
wrote to you will require but three lines apiece for their recital. But
stop; when I say "insignificant" I forget one all-important misfortune
which, for our sins I sup