of whom fell down in the holes where they were digging for gold, and
thus, in digging their own graves, ended their golden dreams, with
gold-dust for their winding-sheets.

In California there may be said to be only two seasons--a wet one and a
dry. The wet season is from November to March, during which period
foggy weather and cold south-west winds prevail. During the remaining
months of the year, arid scorching north-east winds blow so frequently
and so long that everything green becomes parched and shrivelled up. Of
course this state of things is modified in different localities by the
proximity or absence of mountains, rivers, and sandy plains, and there
are various periods throughout the year during which the climate is
delightful; but on the whole it is considered bad--especially during the
rains, when water comes down in such continuous deluges that
gold-digging and all other work is much interfered with--sometimes
stopped altogether. At midday in this season there is frequently July
heat, while in the morning and evening there is January cold.

Anxious to escape before the weather became worse, Frank went at once to
Jeffson's store to obtain supplies, settle up accounts, and inquire for
his friend Meyer. He found Jeffson looking very ill--he having recently
had a severe attack of the prevailing complaint, but "Company" had
recovered completely, and was very busy with the duties of his store,
which ("Company" being a warm-hearted man) included gratuitous
attendance on, and sympathy with, the sick.

"It'll ruin us intirely," he was wont to say, "for we can't stand by and
see them die o' sickness an' intarvation mixed, an' the poor critters
has nothin' wotever to pay. Hows'ever, vartue is its own reward, an' we
makes the tough miners pay handsome for their supplies, which makes up
for the sick wans, an' kapes us goin' on hearty enough."

"And what of Meyer?" asked Frank, somewhat anxiously.

Instead of answering, Jeffson put on his hat, and bidding him follow,
went out of the store. He led him and Joe towards a large pine-tree, at
the root of which there was a low mound, carefully covered with green
turf. Pointing to it, the Yankee store-keeper said with some emotion--

"There he lies, poor fellow; and a better, more kind-hearted, or
honester man, never drove pick and shovel into the airth."

In compliance with the request of Frank, who was deeply moved, Jeffson
told how that, after the departure of h