into ecstasies of delight. It was almost as
wonderful a specimen of art as my chintz hanging. The groundwork is
pure white, upon which, in bas-relief, are _executed_ two
diabolical-looking bandits, appallingly bewhiskered and mustached,
dressed in red coats, yellow pantaloons, green boots, orange-colored
caps with brown feathers in them, and sky-blue bows and arrows. Each of
the fascinating vagabonds is attended by a bird-of-paradise-colored
dog, with a crimson tail waggingly depicted. They are embowered beneath
a morning-glory vine, evidently a species of the Convolvulus unknown in
America, as each one of its pink leaves, springing from purple stems,
is three times the size of the bandit's head.

Ned could not have admired it more if it had been a jar of richest
porcelain or a rare Etruscan vase, and when I gently suggested that it
was a pity to rob the barroom of so elegant an ornament, he answered,
"Miners can't appreciate a handsome pitcher, any more than they can
good cooking, and Mrs. ---- will please to keep it."

Alas! I would infinitely have preferred the humblest brown jug, for
that really _has_ a certain beauty of its own, and, besides, it would
have been in keeping with my cabin. However, that good creature looked
upon the miraculous vegetable, the fabulous quadrupeds, and the
impossible bipeds, with so much pride that I had not the heart to tell
him that the pitcher was a fright, but, graciously accepting it, I hid
it out of sight as quickly as possible, on the trunk wash-stand behind
the curtain.

We breakfast at nine and dine at six, with a dish of soup at noon for
luncheon. Do not think we fare as sumptuously _every_ day as we did at
the coronation-dinner. By no means; and it is said that there will
probably be many weeks, during the season, when we shall have neither
onions, potatoes, nor fresh meat. It is feared that the former will not
keep through the whole winter, and the rancheros cannot at all times
drive in cattle for butchering, on account of the expected snow.

Ned is not the only distinguished person residing on this Bar. There is
a man camping here who was one of Colonel Fremont's guides during his
travels through California. He is fifty years of age perhaps, and
speaks several languages to perfection. As he has been a wanderer for
many years, and for a long time was the principal chief of the Crow
Indians, his adventures are extremely interesting. He chills the blood
of the green young m