My efforts to obtain averages of the winter mines were attended with much greater difficulty. But few of the miners kept any account of the results of their labors, and those who did were often unwilling that their names should appear in connection with such inconsiderable profits. In my journal I have the names of _fifty-six_ miners, generally of my acquaintance, who were laboring in the richest portions of the mines, and who have given me information respecting their operations. All whose names and averages I took were industrious, persevering, and, in some cases, skillful miners, so that the result given must be regarded as one which presents the most favorable view. It is probable, if an average could by any means be obtained of all the operations of all the miners, day by day, it would be much less than that at which I arrive. My estimate commences at the time I reached the Marepoosa diggings, which was the 12th day of November, 1849, and a few days after the rainy season commenced, and ends at the time I went to Jacksonville, April 3d, 1850, and covers a period of one hundred and twenty-one working days to each of fifty-six miners, or six thousand seven hundred and seventy-six days in the aggregate. Number of miners, 56. Length of time, 121 working days. Total number of days’ work, 6776. Whole amount made, $22,089 76. The aggregate amount each day, averaged, $182 56. Average to each of 56 miners, each day, $3 26. It would exhibit curious results were I prepared to present a statement of the mining operations of one hundred and twenty-nine miners with whom I have been connected since I came to California. Most of these left the mines before I did, some of them to return home, and many to engage in other pursuits. Some remained only a few days. One of these, though I was not connected with him otherwise than as being with him on a prospecting tour for a day, was a novelty among us. He seemed to have just turned out of Broadway, or to have been turned out of a band-box. He was an exquisite, even to the white kid gloves, eye-glass, and Cologne water, with dancing pumps, and a small gold box suspended about his neck by a gold chain, in which to put his gold. With his dirk-knife, elegantly chased, he would go into a hole already dug, and spend an hour in scraping the dirt from the rocks, which he washed with great care, putting the few scales in the gold box around his neck. He had been transplanted from some greenhouse to these rough mountains, and soon faded away and died.