t, but a little reflection showed that this was
not so. Maule and Phillips had gone on a prospecting journey among the
hills, and had not returned as yet, and Woburn, the gold-keeper, was
unable to leave his store. Having a very large quantity of the
precious metal under his charge, he stuck to his post, feeling that the
responsibility was too great to trifle with. With these three exceptions
the whole of the Gulch, with clean red shirts, and such other additions
to their toilet as the occasion demanded, sauntered in a straggling line
along the clayey pathway which led up to the saloon.

The interior of the building had been provided with rough benches, and
the parson, with his quiet good-humoured smile, was standing at the door
to welcome them. "Good morning, boys," he cried cheerily, as each group
came lounging up. "Pass in; pass in. You'll find this is as good a
morning's work as any you've done. Leave your pistols in this barrel
outside the door as you pass; you can pick them out as you come out
again, but it isn't the thing to carry weapons into the house of peace."
His request was good-humouredly complied with, and before the last of
the congregation filed in, there was a strange assortment of knives
and firearms in this depository. When all had assembled, the doors
were shut, and the service began--the first and the last which was ever
performed at Jackman's Gulch.

The weather was sultry and the room close, yet the miners listened with
exemplary patience. There was a sense of novelty in the situation which
had its attractions. To some it was entirely new, others were wafted
back by it to another land and other days. Beyond a disposition which
was exhibited by the uninitiated to applaud at the end of certain
prayers, by way of showing that they sympathised with the sentiments
expressed, no audience could have behaved better. There was a murmur
of interest, however, when Elias B. Hopkins, looking down on the
congregation from his rostrum of casks, began his address.

He had attired himself with care in honour of the occasion. He wore a
velveteen tunic, girt round the waist with a sash of china silk, a pair
of moleskin trousers, and held his cabbage-tree hat in his left hand.
He began speaking in a low tone, and it was noticed at the time that he
frequently glanced through the small aperture which served for a window
which was placed above the heads of those who sat beneath him.

"I've put you straight now," he