The reader is to understand that this Robinson was last from
California; and California had made such an impression upon him, that
he turned the conversation that way oftener than a well-regulated
understanding recurs to any one topic, except, perhaps, religion.

He was always pestering George to go to California with him, and it
must be owned that on this one occasion George had given him a fair
handle.

"Come out of it," continued Robinson, "and make your fortune."

"You did not make yours there," said Susan sharply.

"I beg your pardon, miss. I made it, or how could I have spent it?"

"No doubt," said William. "What comes by the wind goes by the water."

"Alluding to the dust?" inquired the Cockney.

"Gold dust especially," retorted Susan Merton.

Robinson laughed. "The ladies are sharp, even in Berkshire," said he.

Mr. Robinson then proceeded to disabuse their minds about the facility
of gold.

"A crop of gold," said he, "does not come by the wind any more than a
crop of corn; it comes by harder digging than your potatoes ever saw,
and harder work than you ever did--oxen and horses perspire for you,