"That's what we all came to Alaska for--gold claims. I want three," remarked Alma with complacency, "and besides, there is plenty of driftwood at Golovin on the beach which we could have for nothing, and save buying coal at three dollars a sack as we do here," glancing at the scuttle near the range reproachfully, as if the poor, inanimate thing was to blame for prices. Little Alma was keen at a bargain. There was nothing slow about the grey matter in her cranium. If there was buying to do, or a commodity to sell, Alma was the one of the restaurant firm to do it, enjoying well the bargaining, where she was seldom outwitted. So in the intervals between meals, or at night when the day's work was done, we discussed our plans outside the kitchen door next the sea beach, watching the shipping in the roadstead, admiring the lovely sky tints left by the setting sun, or gazing at the softly rolling breakers under a silver-bowed moon. If we had plenty of hard work, with its not altogether desirable phases, we also enjoyed much beside the novelty. Some one we knew was always in from the creeks, principally Anvil, to bring latest news, as well as to collect the same, and the kitchen as well as the dining-room, was the constant rendezvous of friends of one or all of us. Those prospecting among the hills or on the beach at some distance from town came in often for supplies and to visit the post-office, giving the "Star" a call for hot coffee, if not a supper, before leaving. Jokes and stories flew about over the tables, and interesting incidents were always occurring. Good humor and good cheer flowed on every side along with the cordial greeting, and tea and coffee, though nothing stronger in the way of drinks was ever placed upon the tables. In the kitchen we did not lack voluntary assistants when work pushed, or there was what we called "a rush." One young man would fill the water buckets at a neighboring hydrant, another would bring in coal, and some other would carry away refuse. Happy, indeed, were the great numbers of dogs fed from the "Star" kitchen. No beggar was ever turned away. No homeless and discouraged soul, whether man or woman, sober or drunken, was allowed to leave as forlorn as he entered. Men often sat down at the tables, who, when filled with good food and hot drink, in a warm and comfortable room fell asleep from the effects of previous stimulants and sank to the floor. When this happened some strong and helpful arm assisted such a one with friendly advice, to the street.