Tales of Trail and Town

meliorating conditions of other improved camps. After the discovery of the famous "Eureka" lead, the

dit. There were better clothes to be seen in its one long straggling street, but those who wore them generally lacked the grim virtue of the old pioneers, and the fairer faces that were to be seen were generally rouged. There was a year or two of this kind of mutation, in which the youthful barbarism of Rough and Ready might have been said to struggle with adult civilized wickedness, and then the name itself disappeared. By an Act of the Legislature the growing town was called "Atherly," after the owner of the Eureka mine,-Peter Atherly,-who had g

the young lady had said, smacked of old feudal days and honors. It was believed beyond doubt, even in their simple family records,-the flyleaf of a Bible,-that Peter Atherly's great-grandfather was an Englishman who brought over to his Majesty's Virginian possessions his only son, then a boy. It was not established, however, to what class of deportation he belonged: whether he was suffering exile from religious or judicial conviction, or if he were only one of the articled "apprentices" who largely made up the American immigration of those days. Howbeit, "Atherly" was undoubtedly an English name, even suggesting respectable and landed ancestry, and Peter Atherly was proud of it. He looked somewhat askance upon his Irish and German fellow citizens,

h her son's liberality she had bribed an attendant, and was fast succumbing to a private debauch. In the intervals of her delirium she called Peter by name, talked frenziedly and mysteriously of his "high connections"-alluded to himself and his sister as being of the "true breed"-and with a certain vigor of epithet, picked up in the familiarity of the camp during the days when she was known as "Old Ma'am Atherly" or "Aunt Sally," declared that they were "no corn-cracking Hoosiers," "hayseed pikes," nor "northern Yankee scum," and that she should yet live to see them "holding their own lands again and the lands of their forefathers." Quieted at last by opiates, she fell into a more lucid but scarcely less distressing attitude. Recogniz

!-of his family-his lands an

suspicion, opening upon him her beady eyes, in

great-grandfather!-the Atherlys, my relations-wh

to the old washer-woman for-is it?" she burst out with th

ou know! The family Bible-what

ed away safe enough in my trunk! You hear me! I'm shoutin'! But he wasn't no old settler in Mizzouri-he wasn't descended from any settler, either! He was a new man outer England-fresh caught-and talked down his throat. And he fooled ME-the darter of an old family that was settled on the right bank of the Mizzouri afore Dan'l Boone came to Kentucky-with his new philanderings. Then he broke up, and went all to pieces when we struck Californy, and left ME-Sally Magregor, whose father had niggers of his own-to wash for Rough and

her to," said the anxious Peter

essional contempt, "that your mother willna do any more washing for me as in the old time, nor give up her life again

er room for the paper she had spoken of. It was in an old work-box-a now faded yellow clipping from a newspaper, lying amidst spoils of cotton thread, buttons, and beeswax, which he even then remembered

r in well-to-do circles some thirty years ago. It was known vaguely that the young couple had 'gone West,'-a then unknown region,-but it seems that after severe trials and tribulations on the frontier with savages, they emigrated early to Oregon, and then, on the outb

ddition of a royal crown to the other ornamentation of the casket. Peter Atherly's ideas of heraldry were very vague,-Sacramento at that time offered him no opportunity of knowing what were the arms of the Atherlys,-and the introduction of the royal crown seemed to satisfy Peter's mind as to what a crest MIGHT be, while to the ordinary democratic mind it simply suggested that the corpse was English! Political criticism being thus happily averted, Mrs. Atherly's body was laid in the little cemetery, not far away from certain rude wooden crosses which marked the burial-place of wanderers whose very names were unknown, and in due time a marble shaft was erected over it. But when, the next day, the county paper contained, in addition to the column-and-a-half description of the funeral, the more formal announcement of the death of "Mrs. Sallie Atherly, wife of the late Philip Atherly, second son of Sir Ashley Atherly, of England," criticism and comment broke out. The old pi

bar-room decline some proffered refreshment on the ground that "he only drank with his titled relatives." A local humorist, amidst the applause of an admiring crowd at the post-office window, had openly accused the postmaster of withholding letters to him from his only surviving brother, "the Dook of Doncherknow." "The ole dooky never onct missed the mail to let me know wot's goin' on in me childhood's home," remarked the humorist plaintively; "and yer's this dod-blasted gov'ment mule of a postmaster keepin' me letters back!" Letters with pretentious and gilded coats of arms, taken from the decorated inner lining of cigar-boxes, were posted to prominent citizens. The neighboring and unregenerated settlement of Red Dog was more outrageous in its contribution. The Red Dog "Sentinel," in commenting on the death of "Haulbowline Tom," a drunken English man-o'-war's man, said: "It may not be generally known that our regretted fellow citizen, while serving on H. M. S. Boxer, was secretly married to Queen Kikalu of the Friendly

d sometimes been seen about Rough and Ready. For she had her brother's melancholy, and greater reticence, and had continued of her own free will, long after her girlish pupilage at the convent, to live secluded under its maternal roof without taking orders. A general suspicion that she was either a religious "crank," or considered herself too good to live in a mountain mining town, had not contributed to her brother's popularity. In her abstraction from worldly amb

ked even pretty in her excitement. She had left the convent, she was tired of the life there, she was satisfied that a religious vocation would not suit her. In brief, she intended to enjoy herself like other women. If he really felt a pride in the family he ought to take her out, like other brothers, and "give her a show." He could do it there i

accomplished horsemen. She was a good shot, she walked with the untiring foot of a coyote, she threaded the woods with the instinct of a pioneer. Peter regarded her with a singular mingling of astonishment and fear. Surely she had not learned this at school! These were not the teachings nor the sports of the good sisters! He once dared to interrogate her regarding this change in her habits. "I always FELT like it," she answered quickly, "but I kept it down. I u

e had left no thought of his mother's blood mingling with it.

flaxen hair, and strangle them. I couldn't strive and pray and struggle any longer THERE, and so I came here to let myself out! I suppose when I get married-and I ought to,

odd that his sister should inherit this propensity and not he. He regarded her more kindly for this evidence of race. "You think of getting married?" he said more

"There isn't one I don't despise for

the town for his especial attentions. As the cavalcade straggled in climbing the mountain, the young fellow rode close to her saddle-bow, and as the distance lengthened between the other stragglers, they at last were quite alone. When the trail became more densely wooded, Peter q

ely delayed. They were walking slowly, breathing their mustangs, when his companion suddenly uttered a cry of alarm, and sprang from his horse. For on the trail before them lay the young lawyer quite unconscious, with his riderless steed nipping the young leaves of the underbrush. He was evidently stunned by a fall, although across his face was a livid welt which might have been caused by collision with the small elastic limb of a sapling, or a blow from a riding-whip; happily the last idea was only in Peter's mind. As they lifted him up he came slowly to consciousness. He was bewildered and dazed at first, but as he began to speak the color came back freshly to his face. He could not conceive, he stammered, what had happened. He was riding with Miss Atherly, and he supposed his horse had slipped upon some withered pine needles and thrown him! A spasm of pain crossed his face suddenly, and he lifted his hand to the top of his head. Was he hurt THERE? No, but perhaps his hair, which was fl

ppened?" he

" she said simply. "And I-I

e, and began coiling something around her fingers, with a suggestion of coy emb

killed him," sai

nxiously, yet with the same winning, timid smile. If she had

tuously, "you have made

he?" she inquired shyly, still twis

uld keep her secret! But he was vexed, and there was something maniac

with a laugh. "Only a lock of his hair,"

and come here!"

rsued her. Being the better rider she could easily evade him whenever he got too near, and in this way they eventually reached the town and their house

e took from them. She reciprocally looked down upon them, and made no secret of her contempt for their small refinements and fancies. She affected only the society of men, and even treated them with a familiarity that was both fearless and scornful. Peter saw that it was useless to face the opposition; Miss Atherly did not seem to encourage the renewal of the young lawyer's attentions, although it was evident that he was still attracted by her, nor did she seem to invite advances from others. He must go away-and he would have to take her with him. It seemed ridiculous that a woman of thirty, of masculine char

Atherly started on his cherished quest