Frank's companion B. being of an inquiring mind, knew every farm and every farmer on the route, or perhaps in the whole valley. He knew the value of every man's estate, and how he stood with his banker; one was worth 50,000 dollars, another 20,000, and here and there an unthrifty "Rip Van Winkle" with an insuperable aversion to labour and hopelessly in debt. Amongst them were one or two millionaires. It is a characteristic of this community that everyone knows to a dollar how much everyone else is worth. Generally they seemed to be well-to-do and thriving; and when I looked at the numerous great ricks of wheat, the abundant stubble, the rich dark soil so easily and so cheaply cultivated, and the cattle and horses around, it was plain to my perception that a man of ordinary industry, intelligence, and thrift must inevitably become not merely well-to-do, but wealthy. _Thursday._—B. drove into town for our letters, but found none. By this time our fresh meat had given out, so Frank and M. went out and ran down a couple of chickens. Frank chopped their heads off, plucked, and roasted them very deftly. It was an excessively hot day, the thermometer standing at 125º in the sun. I remained indoors most of the day clearing off my correspondence, and in the evening we compared notes as to Frank's past adventures and future prospects. _Friday._—This being our last day, I wandered up the creek in the morning, and gathered a few wild flowers of bright hues, and packed them up to carry home. Of course the time for flowers is all but over now, but I am told that in the summer-time the whole hillside is ablaze with small wild roses and other flowers. [Illustration: ROSS'S PEAK.] In the afternoon we had intended to do a little mountain climbing. We had gone a mile on the road to ascend Ross's Peak, a mountain (of which I made a sketch) about 10,000 feet above sea level, and at a distance of about seven miles; but on looking towards the mountains in the west we noticed that the bright sunshine in which we were walking was obscured in their direction by heavy, suspicious clouds. And presently a few drops fell. Before we could get back to our cabin the rain came down in torrents, with thunder and lightning; and, looking up to Ross's Peak, we found that he had already assumed his winter mantle of snow. This is the first rain we have had since our arrival in America, and as it was our last day we were sorry to miss the fine view to be obtained from the peak. The ascent, we were told, was in fine weather not difficult, though no doubt very laborious. In the evening the western mountains across the valley presented a very interesting appearance. They were now clad with snow, and a thick black cloud hung just above them, leaving a clear-cut outline of white peaks; the sunset was glowing like a great fiery furnace behind them. It was a splendid sight.