ough the means were
not always the most appropriate, the honesty of the sentiment could not
be doubted.

One by one the greater part of the boys, after adoring and hoping, saw
for themselves that Miss Brown could never be expected to change her
name at their solicitation. Sadder but better men, they retired from the
contest, and solaced themselves by betting on the chances of those still
"on the track," as an ex-jockey tersely expressed the situation.

There was no talk of "false hearted" or "fair temptress," such as men
often hear in society; for not only had all the tenderness emanated from
manly breasts alone, but it had never taken form of words.

Soon the hopeful ones were reduced to half a dozen of these. Yankee Sam
was the favorite among the betting men, for Sam, knowing the habits of
New England damsels, went to Placerville one Friday, and returned next
day with a horse and buggy. On Sunday he triumphantly drove Miss Brown
to the nearest church. Ten to one was offered on Sam that Sunday
afternoon, as the boys saw the demure and contented look on Miss Brown's
face as she returned from church. But Samuel followed in the sad
footsteps of many another great man, for so industriously did he drink
to his own success that he speedily developed into a bad case of
_delirium tremens_.

Then Carondelet Joe, calmly confident in the influence of his wonderful
pants, led all odds in betting. But one evening, when Joe had managed to
get himself in the front row and directly before the little teacher,
that lady turned her head several times and showed signs of discomfort.
When it finally struck the latter that the human breath might, perhaps,
waft toward a lady perfumes more agreeable than those of mixed drinks,
he abruptly quitted the school and the camp.

Flush, the poker champion, carried with him to the singing-school that
astounding impudence which had long been the terror and admiration of
the camp. But a quality which had always seemed exactly the thing when
applied to poker seemed to the boys barely endurable when displayed
toward Miss Brown.

One afternoon, Flush indiscreetly indulged in some triumphant and rather
slighting remarks about the little teacher. Within fifteen minutes,
Flush's final earthly home had been excavated, and an amateur undertaker
was making his coffin.

An untimely proposal by a good-looking young Mexican, and his prompt
rejection, left the race between Toledo and a Frenchman named Lecomt