THE MANAGER OF THE SPRINGS. 237 
door of this most uninviting-looking establish- 
ment. ‘A mighty tall smell of brimstone,’ he 
further added, ‘seems coming up from “Old 
Hoot’s ” stove-pipe. Calkilate he’s doing a tallish 
kind of dinner below.’ 
I had no time to reply, ere the host, owner, 
and general manager of the Tuscan Springs made 
his appearance. ‘ How’s your health, Doctor?’ 
inquired the Major. ‘I’ve brought up Cap’en — 
to have a peep at your location ; he’s mighty 
curious about these kind of diggins.’ 
‘Waal, Cap’en,’ said the Doctor, in a long 
drawling voice, ‘I am glad to see you. I raither 
guess you don’t see such nat’ral ready-made 
places, for curin’ jist every sickness, in the old 
country as we have in California.—Here, boy, 
.put up the mustangs: and now step in, and [ll 
tell old aunty to scramble up some eggs and 
bacon, and then we can take a look round the 
springs.’ 
Aunty was a quaint specimen of the feminine 
gender, not at all suggestive of the gentler sex. 
Her features were small, but sharply cut. She 
was bent naturally, but not from age, and re- 
minded me of a witch. One would not have 
felt at all astonished at seemg her mount a 
broomstick, and start on an aérial trip over the 
