e, "and I am aware that they are just; but what can I do? I am
considered at the head of the dissatisfied miners, yet I have no more
real control over them than I have over you at this moment. They are
undisciplined, and fierce as young bears anxious for a taste of blood.
If I counsel honorable resistance, I am laughed at; if I request
moderation, I am accused of cowardice. What can I do with such men as
these?"

"We cannot advise, for our advice would not be taken," replied Fred;
"but if I was placed in your position I know what I should do."

"Name it," said Ross, eagerly.

"Enforce discipline, or resign," was the reply.

"But the miners refuse to drill, or to be governed by military laws."

"Then let them look to themselves, and tell them so boldly. My word for
it, that will bring them to reason, for where can they find another
leader that commands the confidence that you do? Remember, with a mob, a
very few words sways them for bad or good. Try the good, and await the
result."

"Your advice shall be taken, although I have but faint hope of
succeeding with the men. I can make an attempt, and if I die in seeking
to secure the freedom of the miners, it shall never be said that I
counselled extreme measures against those who wished to remain neutral."

Again he shook hands with us, and then left the store in a sorrowful and
thoughtful mood, as though he felt a foreboding of his coming death, yet
determined to yield his life for the benefit of his brother miners.

"There goes a man who is thrusting his head into the lion's mouth, and
in less than a week he will meet a traitor's death, or suffer
imprisonment for life at the hulks. He has been marked and watched for
months, and be assured that the commissioner will not let him escape.
Well, it is no business of mine." And Mr. Brown refilled his pipe, and
threw his weary form upon a mattress, an example that I was not slow to
follow.

It was late in the afternoon when we awoke, refreshed and ready for
work, but as business was not very brisk, we walked about the town until
supper time.

Mr. Brown and myself strolled towards Gravel Pit Hill, and to our
surprise saw a large body of men, armed with rifles, shot guns, and old
muskets of the most antique description, going through a dress parade,
as military men would call it, although candor compels me to confess
that the costumes were not of the most _recherche_ description, as no
two were dressed alike, and no two