ston" to call upon the
young actress herself and secure her personal participation. To her
he unfolded a plan, the successful carrying out of which he felt would
secure his fame to posterity as a practical humorist. The "California
Pet's" black eyes sparkled approvingly and mischievously. She only
stipulated that she should see the man first,--a concession to her
feminine weakness which years of dancing Juba and wearing trousers and
boots had not wholly eradicated from her wilful breast. By all means, it
should be done. And the interview was arranged for the next week.

It must not be supposed that during this interval of popularity Mr.
Chubbuck had been unmindful of his poetic qualities. A certain portion
of each day he was absent from town,--"a communin' with natur'," as Mr.
McCorkle expressed it,--and actually wandering in the mountain trails,
or lying on his back under the trees, or gathering fragrant herbs and
the bright-colored berries of the Marzanita. These and his company he
generally brought to the editor's office, late in the afternoon,
often to that enterprising journalist's infinite weariness. Quiet and
uncommunicative, he would sit there patiently watching him at his work
until the hour for closing the office arrived, when he would as quietly
depart. There was something so humble and unobtrusive in these visits,
that the editor could not find it in his heart to deny them, and
accepting them, like the woodpeckers, as a part of his sylvan
surroundings, often forgot even his presence. Once or twice, moved by
some beauty of expression in the moist, shy eyes, he felt like seriously
admonishing his visitor of his idle folly; but his glance falling upon
the oiled hair and the gorgeous necktie, he invariably thought better of
it. The case was evidently hopeless.

The interview between Mr. Chubbuck and the "California Pet" took place
in a private room of the Union Hotel; propriety being respected by
the presence of that arch-humorist, "Boston." To this gentleman we are
indebted for the only true account of the meeting. However reticent
Mr. Chubbuck might have been in the presence of his own sex, toward the
fairer portion of humanity he was, like most poets, exceedingly voluble.
Accustomed as the "California Pet" had been to excessive compliment, she
was fairly embarrassed by the extravagant praises of her visitor. Her
personation of boy characters, her dancing of the "champion jig," were
particularly dwelt upon wi