My partner was a gem, with the endurance of a ballet-girl in pantomime time. How many cotillons we got through I never clearly remembered; but we danced on, till the grey morning light, stealing in through the windows, warned the revellers that Old Sol was creeping from behind the eastern hills, and that the day, with all its cares and toils, was near at hand once more. My fair partner positively refused to allow me to see her home. Being a casual acquaintance and not a lover, I suppose, of course, that it was highly proper on her part. I thanked her sincerely, for I really felt grateful to her for enabling me to dance away a night that I had destined for a long luxurious repose. With a hearty ‘good-night’ we parted, never to meet again. It was a glorious morning—the air cool and fresh, the sky unflecked by a single cloud. The sun was just tipping the hilltops with rosy light, and peeping slily into the valleys, as I wandered out to think over my strange adventure. My way led by chance up the back of the street, and out by a little stream to the gold-washings. Early as it was, all was bustle and activity. Many of my friends of the ball were now wresting the yellow ore from its hiding-places, the anticipation of gold dispelling all sense of fatigue. The want of water is a great drawback to these diggings. So valuable is it, that it has been brought by a small canal a distance of thirty miles, and is rented by the miners at so much a cubic foot. I lingered here some time, for there is much to see, then turned my steps towards my inn through the city. ‘Say—Cap’en—here—hold on!’ I turned, and saw a man in a one-horse dray, whipping up his horse, and violently gesticulating for me to stop. He soon came up, and jumping out of the dray, seized my hand, and shook it with a grip that made my very eyes water. ‘Guess you ain’t acquainted with this child?’ I said no; I had not the pleasure of knowing him. ‘I spotted you, Cap’en, just as soon as ever I seed you making tracks down the street. My gal Car’line told me how she put you through all the dance last night.’ It suddenly flashed upon me that the drayman was my partner’s papa. Here’s a lively affair! If he does not ask me my intentions, and riddle me with a six-shooter if I refuse to marry his ‘gal’ at once, I shall deem myself the most fortunate of men. I civilly said, in reply, that I found his daughter a most admirable partner. ‘I rather guess you did, Cap’en; she’s all watch-spring and whalebone, she is; can’t skeer up a smarter gal than “Car” in these parts, if you was to do your darndest. She! why, she’s worth her weight in nuggets to the man as gets her.’ I felt cold all over—I thought it was coming. ‘You must excuse me,’ I said; ‘my breakfast is waiting, and I daresay we shall meet again.’ (I knew this was an awful twister.)