A gleam of fun slid into the corner of Scott's blue eye, as he
whispered,--

"Old man, thar WAS too much saleratus in that bread."

It is said that these were his last words. For when the sun, which had
so often gone down upon the idle wrath of these foolish men, looked
again upon them reunited, it saw the hand of Scott fall cold and
irresponsive from the yearning clasp of his former partner, and it knew
that the feud of Sandy Bar was at an end.




MR THOMPSON'S PRODIGAL


We all knew that Mr. Thompson was looking for his son, and a pretty bad
one at that. That he was coming to California for this sole object was
no secret to his fellow-passengers; and the physical peculiarities, as
well as the moral weaknesses, of the missing prodigal were made equally
plain to us through the frank volubility of the parent. "You was
speaking of a young man which was hung at Red Dog for sluice-robbing,"
said Mr. Thompson to a steerage passenger, one day; "be you aware of
the color of his eyes?" "Black," responded the passenger. "Ah," said
Mr. Thompson, referring to some mental memoranda, "Char-les's eyes was
blue." He then walked away. Perhaps it was from this unsympathetic mode
of inquiry, perhaps it was from that Western predilection to take a
humorous view of any principle or sentiment persistently brought before