king hands, became speechless under these
perfections. Not so her father.

"If there's anything in looks, you seem to be prospering," he said
grimly; "unless you're in the tailorin' line, and you're only showin'
off stock. What mout ye be doing?"

"Ye ain't bin long in Sacramento, I reckon?" suggested Jim, with
patronizing pity.

"No, we only came this morning," returned Hopkins.

"And you ain't bin to the theatre?" continued Jim.

"No."

"Nor moved much in--in--gin'ral fash'nable sassiety?"

"Not yet," interposed Phoebe, with an air of faint apology.

"Nor seen any of them large posters on the fences, of 'The Prairie
Flower; or, Red-handed Dick,'--three-act play with five tableaux,--just
the biggest sensation out,--runnin' for forty nights,--money turned
away every night,--standin' room only?" continued Jim, with prolonged
toleration.

"No."

"Well, I play Red-handed Dick. I thought you might have seen it and
recognized me. All those people over there," darkly indicating the long
table, "know me. A fellow can't stand it, you know, being stared at by
such a vulgar, low-bred lot. It's gettin' too fresh here. I'll have to
give the landlord notice and cut the whole hotel. They don't seem to
have ever seen a gentleman and a professional before."

"Then you're a play-actor now?" said the farmer, in a tone which did
not, however, exhibit the exact degree of admiration which shone in
Phoebe's eyes.

"For the present," said Jim, with lofty indifference. "You see I was
in--in partnership with McClosky, the manager, and I didn't like the
style of the chump that was doin' Red-handed Dick, so I offered to take
his place one night to show him how. And by Jinks! the audience, after
that night, wouldn't let anybody else play it,--wouldn't stand even the
biggest, highest-priced stars in it! I reckon," he added gloomily, "I'll
have to run the darned thing in all the big towns in Californy,--if I
don't have to go East with it after all, just for the business. But it's
an awful grind on a man,--leaves him no time, along of the invitations
he gets, and what with being run after in the streets and stared at in
the hotels he don't get no privacy. There's men, and women, too, over
at that table, that just lie in wait for me here till I come, and don't
lift their eyes off me. I wonder they don't bring their opery-glasses
with them."

Concerned, sympathizing, and indignant, poor Phoebe turned her brown
head and honest eyes in