member the name, but it's in the papers,
so you'll see it--somewhere on the other side of the something
mountains--I forget--"

"Rocky, perhaps."

"Yes, that's it, the Rocky Mountains, and I wish they were not so rocky,
for your sake, darling, for you've got to go there and take possession
(or serve yourself heir to, or something of that sort) of the property.
Not that it's large, so they say (I wish with all my heart it did not
exist at all), but they tell me there is gold on it, though whether it
is lying on the fields or down in holes I'm sure I don't know, and oh
dear, I don't care, for it entails your going away again, my darling
boy."

Here the poor old lady broke down, and, throwing her arms round Will's
neck--regardless of the fact that in so doing she upset and broke one of
her best china tea-cups--wept upon his bosom.

Such was the manner of the announcement of the news in the drawing-room.

In the kitchen the same subject was being discussed by a select party,
consisting of Maryann, Mr Richards the coachman, his spouse Jemima--
formerly Scrubbins--the baby Richards--who has already been referred to
as being reduced in the matter of his ablutions to a bread can--and
Larry O'Hale with his faithful Indian friend Bunco.

"To think," said Maryann, with a quiet laugh, as she handed a cup of tea
to Bunco--"to think that I should ever come for to sit at tea with a
live red Indian from Ameriky--not that he's red either, for I'm sure
that hany one with eyes in their 'ead could see that he's only brown."

"Ah, my dear, that's 'cause he's changed colour," said Larry, pushing in
his cup for more tea. "He wasn't always like that. Sure, when I first
know'd Bunco he was scarlet--pure scarlet, only he took a fancy one day,
when he was in a wild mood, to run his canoe over the falls of Niagara
for a wager, an', faix, when he came up out o' the wather after it he
was turned brown, an's bin that same ever since."

"Gammon," exclaimed Maryann.

"Sure ye don't misdoubt me word, Maryann," said Larry reproachfully;
"isn't it true, Bunco?"

"Yoos a norribable liar, Larry," answered Bunco with a broad grin.

Richards the coachman, who had been for some minutes too busy with the
buttered toast and bacon to do more than listen and chuckle, here burst
into a loud guffaw and choked himself partially. Jemima and Maryann
also laughed, whereupon the baby, not to be outdone, broke suddenly into
a tremendous crow, and waved its