hildren and goodness knows how
many grandchildren! And as for them trees that yer say yer can't
measure, I'd rather see the clothes-poles in Sally's back yard!"

"Yes," chimed in Mary Jane, "and 'trifles' yer call it, for a poor
woman that raises spuds and washes clothes for the men at the mines
for a livin', to lose her fine coach Pete built the very year he took
sick of the heart-failure and died, and left me a lone widder in a
cold and friendless world!" At which she wiped her eyes with the
yellow duster.

"'Trifles'!" cried Aunt Eliza again. "'Trifles,' for us poor guileless
wimmen to be left here alone in the wilderness, twenty mile from a
livin' creature, and nobody knows what wild animals and awful men may
come along any minute!"

For a moment Job halted Bess and watched the scene. An almost
uncontrollable desire to laugh possessed him; but, restraining
himself, he took the first chance he had to make his presence known,
at which Aunt Eliza groaned, "Oh, my!" and Mary Jane instinctively
grasped her yelling children, and the prim spinster curtsied and asked
if he used tobacco. At Job's surprised look and negative reply, she
said, "Very well. I never employ a male being who permeates his
environment with the noxious weed. As you do not, I will offer you
proper remuneration if you will assist us in this unforeseen
calamity."

Assuring her that he would, without pay, do all he could, Job went to
work. It was well on in the day ere, by his repeated errands down to
the big hotel barn some distance below, he had procured enough
material to get the rickety old structure in order and help Aunt Eliza
back up its high side to the seat she had left so unceremoniously that
morning. The last he heard, as the white horse slowly pulled out of
sight through the forest, was Aunt Eliza's, "Go slow, Mary Jane, for
mercy's sake! Don't let her run away!" while the prim spinster shouted
back in a high key, "Good-by, young man! You're a great credit to your
sex;" and Mary Jane, pounding the poor mare vigorously, yelled,
"G'lang! Get up! We'll never get home!"

* * * * *

It was nearer sunset than it should have been when Job reached the
sign-board far up the toll-road that read, "To the Big Trees." Putting
spurs to Bess, he galloped on at a rapid pace for a mile or more, when
he became conscious that the sugar pines and cedars were giving place
to strange trees which had loomed up before him so gra