obably envying him the lone
minnow which was brought back in triumph.

The next morning we mounted horses and donkeys and rode up to Cloud's
Rest to see the glorious view over the whole Yosemite range. Our horses
picked their way most carefully over the stones and water puddles. J.
had a donkey who pretended that he was weak in all his four legs. When
he went up the mountain his fore legs stumbled at every moment,
inviting J. to get off and lead him, and when he came down the mountain
his back legs gave way and he sat down, so that J. could not help
getting off. The result was that J. had to lead him both up and down
and could have dispensed with his services entirely.

The Bride's Veil falls six thousand feet in a straight fall, becoming
only a tiny spray and a fine mist before it reaches the rocks at the
bottom.

Bright and early the next morning we drove to see Mirror Lake, which
was really like a mirror. The air was deliciously fresh and fragrant
with spring flowers. We bought some photographs and turned them upside
down. The lake and mountains were so mirrored that you could not see
which was top or bottom.

The next day being Sunday, we thought we would stay quietly in Yosemite
Valley, enjoying the rest and beauty of our surroundings. The hotel was
good, and the place was enticing. Here it was that the funniest thing
happened we had yet encountered. A deputation of one knocked at our
door at an early hour this morning. We had just finished a plain Sunday
breakfast of hash, fried potatoes, corn cakes, griddle-cakes, and syrup
fresh from the white-pine trees. But I am digressing, and the man is
still knocking at our door. J. opened it and let him in. With many hums
and haws he said that he had been sent to ask J. if he would read the
prayers and preach a sermon in the drawing-room of the hotel, "its
being Sunday and you being a minister."

J. was a little aghast, not exactly understanding, while I was shaking
with laughter at the other end of the room, and would not have
interfered for worlds for fear of losing a word of the dialogue.

"I read the gospel!" cried J.

"Yes, sir. You're a minister, ain't yer?"

"Well, yes, I am, but not the kind you mean."

The little man said, condescendingly: "We are not particular as to
sect. Whether you're a _Baptist_ or _Methodist_, it makes no difference
as long as you will preach."

J. had difficulty in explaining in his best English that preaching was
not a special