He was then stripped naked and tied to a tree. The mosquitoes with their long bills went at him, and in less than three hours he was covered with blood. Writhing and trembling from head to foot with exquisite torture, he exclaimed, “Untie me, untie me, and I will tell where it is.” “Tell first,” was the reply. So he told where it might be found. Some of the party then, with wisps, kept off the still hungry mosquitoes, while others went where the culprit had directed, and recovered the bag of gold. He was then untied, washed with cold water, and helped to his clothes, while he muttered, as if talking to himself, “I couldn’t stand that anyhow.” FRIDAY, JULY 28. A little laughing girl tripped into the office to-day, and handed me a bunch of flowers, which she said her mother sent me. “And who is your mother, my sweet one?” I inquired. She told me, and I then remembered that I had recovered for her a silver cup, which an Indian had stolen; and these flowers had now come as a memento. “Fee me with flowers, they hold no sordid bribe.” SATURDAY, AUG. 12. My man Bob, who is of Irish extraction, and who had been in the mines about two months, returned to Monterey four weeks since, bringing with him over two thousand dollars, as the proceeds of his labor. Bob, while in my employ, required me to pay him every Saturday night, in gold, which he put into a little leather bag and sewed into the lining of his coat, after taking out just twelve and a half cents, his weekly allowance for tobacco. But now he took rooms and began to branch out; he had the best horses, the richest viands, and the choicest wines in the place. He never drank himself, but it filled him with delight to brim the sparkling goblet for others. I met Bob to-day, and asked him how he got on. “Oh, very well,” he replied, “but I am off again for the mines.” “How is that, Bob? you brought down with you over two thousand dollars; I hope you have not spent all that: you used to be very saving; twelve and a half cents a week for tobacco, and the rest you sewed into the lining of your coat.” “Oh, yes,” replied Bob, “and I have got _that_ money yet; I worked hard for it; and the diel can’t get it away; but the two thousand dollars came asily by good luck, and has gone as asily as it came.” Now Bob’s story is only one of a thousand like it in California, and has a deeper philosophy in it than meets the eye. Multitudes here are none the richer for the mines. He who can shake chestnuts from an exhaustless tree, won’t stickle about the quantity he roasts.