ching he related a serio-comic
incident that occurred in Grass Valley in the early days.

Several fires had taken place in the town and the inhabitants were in
consequence much excited. A watchman on his rounds espied a light in a
vacant log cabin, and entering, caught a man in the act of striking
a match. He arrested him and the populace were for taking summary
vengeance. A man known as "Blue Coat Osborne" cried out, "Let's hang
him! Nevada City once hanged a man and Grass Valley never did!" This was
an effective appeal, for the rivalry that has lasted ever since already
existed. Fortunately, wiser counsels prevailed; the man was subsequently
tried and acquitted, it appearing that he was a traveling prospector
who had merely entered the cabin in order to light his pipe! In this
connection, I may state that Mr. Maslin confirmed the story of the three
friends in Nevada City, who attempted to withstand "the ordeal by fire."

Mr. Maslin is justly jealous for the reputation of the Argonauts.
Perhaps Bret Harte's miner, with his ready pistol, was as far from the
mark as Rudyard Kipling's picture of Tommy Atkins as "an absentminded
beggar"--an imputation the real "Tommy" hotly resented. At the same
time, such stories as "The Luck of Roaring Camp" and "Tennessee's
Partner," not to quote others, prove Bret Harte conceded to the
miner, courage, patience, gentleness, generosity and steadfastness in
friendship. If Bret Harte really "hurt" California, it was because,
leaving the State for good in February, 1871, he carried with him the
atmosphere of the early mining days and never got out of it. He never
realized the transition from mining to agriculture and horticulture, as
the leading industries of the State. Thus his later stories which
dealt with California, written long after the subsidence of the mining
excitement, continued to convey to the Eastern or English reader an
impression of the Californian as a bearded individual, his trousers
tucked into long boots and the same old "red shirt" with the sleeves
rolled back to the shoulders! As lately--comparatively speaking--as the
Chicago Columbian Exposition, a lady told me she met at the Fair a woman
who said she wanted to visit California, and asked if it would be safe
to do so "on account of the Indians!" While Indians do not appear in
Bret Harte's pages, it is a safe conjecture that, through association
of ideas, this lady conjured up a vague vision of a "prairie schooner"
cr