Not liking the sort of work required to be done on this claim--which was wet--I employed men to work it for me. I could afford to do this: for, having toiled hard ever since my arrival in the diggings, and not having been either unsuccessful or extravagant, I had begun to believe that Lenore might yet be mine. The brighter this hope became, the more value did I set on my life; and was therefore careful not to endanger my health by working in a "wet claim." Another change had taken place in my domestic arrangements. I no longer lived in a miner's tent, nor did I continue to act as my own cook and washer-woman. I was worth several hundred pounds; and began to have a better opinion of myself than ever before. So proud was I of possessing such a sum of money, that had I been in Liverpool at that time, I should not have hesitated to talk of love to Lenore. The life of most gold-diggers is wretched beyond belief. The inconveniences and hardships they endure are but poorly repaid, by their freedom from the irksome regulations and restraints of more civilised life. I have seen miners eating bread that had been kneaded _in a hat_, and baked in the hot ashes of their camp fire! I have seen them suffering many hardships--even hunger itself--at the very time they were encumbered with ponderous bags of gold! In the days when gold-digging was romantic and fashionable, I have seen learned lawyers, skilled physicians, and eloquent divines--who had been seduced by the charms of a miner's life--passing the Sabbath day at the washtub, or seated outside their tents, needle in hand, stitching the torn seams of their ragged and scanty clothing. I had myself been following this rude manner of life, ever since my arrival at the diggings; but it had now lost its charms, and after reaching the Tuolumne, I took up my residence in a French boarding-house. My two shares in the claim I had purchased soon began to yield a rich return, so that I was able to purchase several more, and also employ more men in working them. One day I received a visit from Stormy Jack, who had come over from the Stanislaus, as he said, "to take bearings before sailing out from Sonora." He saw how comfortably I was living in Jacksonville; and that I was making money without much hard work. "I'll come and live like you," said he, "for I am getting too rich myself to go on as I've been doing. I won't stand hard work any longer." After spending the day with me, he returned to Sonora--with the intention of selling out his claims on the Stanislaus, and coming to reside at Jacksonville.