THE MORNING AFTER THE DANCE. 261 
_ 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 sin- 
cerely, for I really felt grateful to her for en- 
abling me to dance away a night that I had des- 
tined for a long luxurious repose. Witha hearty 
‘eood-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 wrest- 
ing 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. 
