lamed and pitied for this
disgusting practice, yet we feel a tendency, not to excuse, but to deal
gently with _individuals_, most of whom, having been trained to spitting
from their infancy, cannot be expected even to understand the abhorrence
with which the practice is regarded by men of other nations.

Nevertheless, brother Jonathan, it is not too much to expect that you
ought to respect the universal condemnation of your spitting
propensities--by travellers from all lands--and endeavour to _believe_
that ejecting saliva promiscuously is a dirty practice, even although
you cannot _feel_ it. We think that if you had the moral courage to
pass a law in Congress to render spitting on floors and carpets a
capital offence, you would fill the world with admiration and your own
bosoms with self-respect, not to mention the benefit that would accrue
to your digestive powers in consequence thereof!

All of the supper party were clad and armed in the rough-and-ready style
already referred to, and most of them were men of the lower ranks, but
there were one or two who, like Ned Sinton, had left a more polished
class of mortals to mingle in the promiscuous crowd. These, in some
cases, carried their manners with them, and exerted a modifying
influence on all around. One young American, in particular, named
Maxton, soon attracted general attention by the immense fund of
information he possessed, and the urbane, gentlemanly manner in which he
conveyed it to those around him. He possessed in an eminent degree
those qualities which attract men at once, and irresistibly good nature,
frankness, manliness, considerable knowledge of almost every subject
that can be broached in general conversation, united with genuine
modesty. When he sat down to table he did not grasp everything within
his reach; he began by offering to carve and help others, and when at
length he did begin to eat, he did not gobble. He "guessed" a little,
it is true, and "calculated" occasionally, but when he did so, it was in
a tone that fell almost as pleasantly on the ear as the brogue of old
Ireland.

Ned happened to be seated beside Maxton, and held a good deal of
conversation with him.

"Forgive me, if I appear inquisitive," said the former, helping himself
to a handful of broken biscuit, "but I cannot help expressing a hope
that our routes may lie in the same direction--are you travelling
towards Sacramento city or the mines?"

"Towards the mines; and,