as to adopt the speech as well as the habiliments of the Spaniard.

The conversation fell upon the political news of the previous night, or
rather seemed to be lazily continued from some previous, more excited
discussion, in which one of the contestants--a red-bearded miner--had
subsided into an occasional growl of surly dissent. It struck Clarence
that the Missourian had been an amused auditor and even, judging from a
twinkle in his eye, a mischievous instigator of the controversy. He
was not surprised, therefore, when the man turned to him with a certain
courtesy and said,--

"And what, sir, is the political feeling in YOUR district?"

But Clarence was in no mood to be drawn out, and replied, almost curtly,
that as he had come only from San Francisco, they were probably as well
informed on that subject as himself. A quick and searching glance from
the stranger's eye made him regret his answer, but in the silence that
ensued the red-bearded miner, evidently still rankling at heart, saw
his opportunity. Slapping his huge hands on his knees, and leaning far
forward until he seemed to plunge his flaming beard, like a firebrand,
into the controversy, he said grimly,--

"Well, I kin tell you, gen'l'men, THIS. It ain't goin' to be no matter
wot's the POLITICAL FEELING here or thar--it ain't goin' to be no matter
wot's the State's rights and wot's Fed'ral rights--it ain't goin' to
be no question whether the gov'ment's got the right to relieve its own
soldiers that those Secesh is besieging in Fort Sumter or whether they
haven't--but the first gun that's fired at the flag blows the chains
off every d--n nigger south of Mason and Dixon's line! You hear me!
I'm shoutin'! And whether you call yourselves 'Secesh' or 'Union' or