" All li; you gib me flore bittee me fly you Melican plan-cae." " Yes,
pancakes will do. Go ahead!"

Visions of pancakes and molasses flit before my hunger-distorted vision
as I sit outside until he gets them ready. In ten minutes John calls me
in. On a tin plate, that looks as if it has just been rescued from a
barrel of soap-grease, reposes a shapeless mass of substance resembling
putty-it is the " Melican plan-cae; " and the Celestial triumphantly
sets an empty box in front of it for me to sit on and extends his greasy
palm for the stipulated price. May the reader never be ravenously hungry
and have to choose between a " Melican plan-cae " and nothing. It is
simply a chunk of tenacious dough, made of flour and water only, and
soaked for a few minutes in warm grease. I call for molasses; he doesn't
know what it is. I inquire for syrup, thinking he may recognize my want
by that name. He brings a jar of thin Chinese catsup, that tastes something
like Limburger cheese smells. I immediately beg of him to take it where
its presumably benign influence will fail to reach me. He produces some
excellent cold tea, however, by the aid of which I manage to "bolt" a
portion of the "plan-cae." One doesn't look for a very elegant spread
for fifty cents in the Sage-brush State; but this "Melican plan-cae" is
the worst fifty-cent meal I ever heard of.

To-night I stay in Winnemucca, the county seat of Humboldt County, and
quite a lively little town of 1,200 inhabitants. "What'll yer have."
is the first word on entering the hotel, and "Won't yer take a bottle
of whiskey along." is the last word on leaving it next morning. There
are Piutes and Piutes camped at Winnemucca, and in the morning I meet a
young brave on horseback a short distance out of town and let him try
his hand with the bicycle. I wheel him along a few yards and let him
dismount; and then I show him how to mount and invite him to try it