In one corner of the stage was a little chap who was evidently what we would call a dude nowadays. This young gentleman had done his level best to put a bold front on matters, by rigging himself out like a cowboy. The result was somewhat ludicrous, as may be imagined. Nor was the poor little idiot by any means unconscious of his features of incongruity--he realized most keenly the absurdity of his position and the fact that he was being guyed. The miners, however, seemed to enjoy the situation immensely. “Say, pardner,” said one tawny-bearded giant, leaning toward the innocent, and startling him so that his eye glasses nearly dropped off his nose--“Gimme a pull at yer pistol, wont ye?” “Ah, beg pawdon, sir, what did you say?” stammered the dude. “W’y I s’posed you could understan’ th’ English langwidge,” replied the miner, “but seein’ ez how ye don’t, I’ll translate her to ye. I asked ye ter give me a pull at yer whisky bottle.” “Ah, really,” said the innocent, “I’d be chawmed, you know, doncher know, but I don’t carry the article. In fact, sir, I nevah drink.” “Ye don’t say so? Well, I want ter know!” answered the miner. “Now, see hyar, sonny, seein’ ez how you aint got no whisky, jest gimme a chaw uv terbacker an’ we’ll call it squar’.” “I--aw--I’m sorry to say that I don’t use tobacco, sir.” “Sho! g’long, young feller! Is--that--so? How the h--l d’ye keep a goin’? Whut d’ye do fer excitement--p’raps ye plays poker, eh?” said the stalwart son of the pick. “Oh no!” exclaimed the tenderfoot in dismay, “I nevah play cards!” “Ye don’t tell me!” replied the miner. “Well, well, well! By the way, young feller; be keerful not ter lose ’em--ye mout need ’em ter git home with.” “Need what, sir?” asked the victim. “Yer wings!”--and the miners broke out in a huge guffaw that bade fair to dislocate a wheel of the stage, and impelled the driver to look anxiously and inquiringly at his passengers. The tenderfoot collapsed and remained in a state of complete innocuousness until he arrived at his destination, which, fortunately for his sensitive organization, happened to be the first town where we changed horses. As he minced gingerly away toward the hotel, the miners winked at each other most prodigiously. Happening to catch the big fellow’s eye, by a happy inspiration I was impelled to wink also. This at once established me on a friendly footing with my rough companions, and, as I happened to have a bottle of fairly good liquor with me, the rest of the way into the regard of those simple miners was easily traversed. During the conversation that naturally followed the unconventional formation of our acquaintance, the big-bearded fellow, who appeared to be the leader of the little party of miners, following the blunt fashion of the country, suddenly remarked: “By the way, stranger, whut might yer name be, an’ whut part uv the diggin’s might yer be headin’ fer?”