near a small mining camp among the mountains south of the railroad.
Thinking to regain the road quickly by going across country through the
sage-brush, I get into a place where that enterprising shrub is go thick
and high that I have to hold the bicycle up overhead to get through.

At three o'clock in the afternoon I come to a railroad section-house.
At the Chinese bunk-house I find a lone Celestial who, for some reason,
is staying at home. Having had nothing to eat or drink since six o'clock
this morning, I present the Chinaman with a smile that is intended to
win his heathen heart over to any gastronomic scheme I may propose; but
smiles are thrown away on John Chinaman.

" John, can you fix me up something to eat. " " No; Chinaman no savvy
whi' man eatee; bossee ow on thlack. Chinaman eatee nothing bu' licee
[rice]; no licee cookee." This sounds pretty conclusive; nevertheless I
don't intend to be thus put off so easily. There is nothing particularly
beautiful about a silver half-dollar, but in the almond-shaped eyes of
the Chinaman scenes of paradisiacal loveliness are nothing compared to
the dull surface of a twenty-year-old fifty-cent piece; and the jingle
of the silver coins contains more melody for Chin Chin's unromantic ear
than a whole musical festival.

" John, I'll give you a couple of two-bit pieces if you'll get me a bite
of something," I persist. John's small, black eyes twinkle at the
suggestion of two-bit pieces, and his expressive countenance assumes a
commerical air as, with a ludicrous change of front, he replies:

" Wha'. You gib me flore bittee, me gib you bitee eatee. " "That's what
I said, John; and please be as lively as possible about it."