FLY FISHING IN THE YOSEMITE. 167 



The South Dome was glowing in the ruddy morning 

 light ; a flock of blackbirds were piping cheerily ; an 

 odor of fried trout and coffee was in the air, and Yang 

 was tugging at the blankets, and saying : 



" Come, you heap laze, bleakfast all leddy. Git up! " 

 * * # # * * * * * 



What a dinner Yang and Jack had in readiness for 

 the party that night ! The Judge and spouse, after 

 much pressing, had come. The lady could not with- 

 stand the trout, especially on a Friday. The judicial 

 pair arrived just as Madge and his Reverence raced into 

 camp on the sturdy mules. The Doctor and guide fol. 

 lowed. Madge's cheeks were glowing, her eyes spark- 

 ling, and her tongue rattling> as she leaped from her 

 saddle. " Such a time as they had had ! His Reverence 

 had been a duck, and the Doctor for once had behaved 

 himself and kept civil." She gave her hand to the 

 Judgess, but kissed the Judge. 



At Yang's summons, a jovial company sat down to 

 such a table as campers in the Sierras seldom see. 

 Madge was in ecstacies, and even the Judgess expressed 

 approval. There was real damask upon it, with nap- 

 kins and silver forks and wine from the hotel, with all 

 sorts of garnitures of Yang's contrivance. 



The dinner began, continued, and ended with fish ; 

 but fish cooked in every way which Oriental imagination 

 could devise, and camp facilities permit. Even " Simp- 

 son's Fish Dinner," of seven courses, in Billingsgate, 

 could not surpass it. The Judgess, having disposed of 



