"How fresh and fine is this new world of Californy. It is only finished to-day. I can smell the varnish on it." The Judge took out his great cotton bandanna, took off his hat, and polished his bald head till it shone in the sun like a mirror. Then the little man stuffed his big handkerchief back in his bosom, and went on down the trail, humming softly to himself: "In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love." A man in great gum boots, duck breeches, a hat like a tent, with a gold pan under his arm and a pipe sticking out through a mask of matted beard, met the little man in the trail, heard his song as he passed, and looking back over his shoulder, said to himself: "The derned bald-headed old rooster! What's he a-singin' hymns fur now?" The little Judge could not sit down in the saloon. He felt that something was the matter, and he thought that he was lonesome. The little brown mice upstairs could be heard all day now, for the miners were at work up to their thighs in the water, delving away there in their great gum boots as if they were in a sort of diving-bell. So the Judge went away from the Howling Wilderness. There was no man to be found who had time to talk, and so he sought a woman. Captain Tommy stood in the door of her cabin all untroubled. She had seen the little Judge approach, but she was too happy drinking in the great summer's day that filled all things with peace and a calm delight, and she did not stir. There are days and occasions when even the most plain women are positively beautiful; and when a plain woman is beautiful she is the most beautiful thing in the world. This was Captain Tommy's day to be beautiful, and perhaps she felt it, for there she stood, really playing the coquette, hardly turning her eyes to look on the little Alcalde, although she knew he was mad in love with her. He stood before her in the sun with his hat in his hand. Then she looked into the polished mirror which he humbly bowed before her, and she saw that she was really beautiful. "Captain," said the mirror, and it bowed still lower. "Lady, in this glorious climate of Californy, I have snatched a few moments from my professional duties to come to you, to say to you--to--to beg of you that you will--will you--in this glorious climate of Californy this morning?" The mirror was close up under her eyes. She smiled, and then she lifted her two hands and began to wind herself up as fast as possible, so that she could answer the eager and earnest little man before her. The Judge waited in an ecstacy of delight, for he knew by the twinkle in her eye that he should have to send for the black-clad man with the white necktie, who had so terrified the Parson, and he was very happy. CHAPTER XXV. AFTER THE DELUGE--WHAT THEN?