electing such boots for your journey. My young friend,
Tom, is much better provided."

"His boots are cowhide," said Mr. Lawrence Peabody disdainfully. "Do
you think I would wear cowhide boots?"

"You would find them more serviceable, Mr. Peabody," said Tom. "Besides,
I don't believe anybody could tell the difference now."

"How much did you pay for them?" asked the Bostonian.

"A dollar and a half."

"Humph! I thought so," returned Peabody contemptuously. "We don't wear
cowhide boots in Boston."

"You are not in Boston now."

"I wish I was," said Peabody energetically. "I wouldn't have started if
I had known what was before me. I expected to travel like a gentleman,
instead of wading through this cursed mud till I'm ready to drop. Look
at my pantaloons, all splashed with mire. What would my friends say if I
should appear in this rig on Washington Street?"

"They might take you for a bog-trotter," said Tom, smiling.

"I have always been particular about my appearance," said Peabody
plaintively. "'He looks just as if he'd come out of a bandbox,' some of
my lady friends used to say. How do I look now?"

"Like a dirty-handed son of toil," said Tom humorously.

"So do you," retorted Peabody, who felt that this was uncomplimentary.

"I admit it," said Tom; "and that's just what I expect to be. You don't
expect to dig gold with kid gloves on, do you, Mr. Peabody?"

"I wish I had brought some with me," said the Bostonian seriously. "It
would have saved my hands looking so dingy."

"How came you to start for California, my friend?" inquired Ferguson.

"The fact is," said Peabody, "I am not rich. There are members of our
family who are wealthy; but I am not one of the lucky number."

"You were making a living at home, were you not?"

"Yes; but my income was only enough for myself."

"I suppose you were in love, then," said Tom.

"I don't mind saying that I was; confidentially, of course," said Mr.
Peabody complacently.

"Was your love returned?"

"I may say it was. The young lady was the daughter of a merchant prince.
I saw that she loved me, but her father would not consent to our union,
on account of my limited means. I read in the _Transcript_ of the gold
discoveries in California. I determined to go out there, and try my
fortune. If I am successful I will go home, and, with a bag of gold in
each hand, demand the hand of Matilda from her haughty sire. When he
asks me for my credentials, I will point t