t know nothin' about flapjacks. I grant you," said he,
laying one hand on the other's arm, "I grant ye that maybe,
_maybe_, mind you, you may know about mixin' flapjacks, and even
about cookin' flapjacks. But wha' do you know about _flippin'
flapjacks_?" He removed his hand from the other's arm. "Nawthin!"
said he. "Now _I_ am an exper'; a real exper'! When I want to flip
a flapjack I just whirl her up through the chimney and catch her by
holdin' the frying pan out'n the window!"

I found at another point a slender, beardless young chap, with bright
black eyes, and hectic cheeks, engaged in sketching one of the miners
who posed before him. His touch was swift and sure, and his faculty at
catching a likeness remarkable. The sketch was completed and paid for in
ten minutes; and he was immediately besieged by offers from men who
wanted pictures of themselves or their camps. He told me, between
strokes of the pencil, that he found this sort of thing more
remunerative than the mining for which he had come to the country, as he
could not stand the necessary hard work. Paper cost him two dollars and
a half a sheet; but that was about all his expense. Alongside the street
a very red-faced, bulbous-nosed and ancient ruin with a patriarchal
white beard was preparing to give phrenological readings. I had seen him
earlier in the day, and had been amused at his impressive glib patter.
Now, however, he had become foolishly drunk. He mounted the same boxes
that had served as the executive desk, and invited custom. After a
moment's hesitation a burly, red-faced miner shouldered his way through
the group and sat down on the edge of the boxes.

In the earlier and soberer part of the afternoon the phrenologist had
skilfully steered his way by the safe stars of flattery. Now, as he ran
his hands uncertainly through the miner's thick hair, a look of
mystification crept into his bleary eyes. He felt again more carefully.

"Most 'xtraor'nary!" he muttered. "Fren's," said he, still feeling at
the man's head, "this person has the most extraor'nary bump of
'quisitiveness. Never felt one like it, 'xcept on th' cranium of a very
celebrated thief an' robber. His bump of benev'lence 's a reg'lar hole.
Bump of truthfulness don' somehow seem to be there at all. Bump of
cowardice is 's big 's an egg. This man, fren's," said he, dropping the
victim's head and advancing impressively, "is a very dangerous
character. Look out for 'm. He's a liar, an' a t