young man pettishly. "A fellow gets a
trifle of a sunstroke——"

''Ah! to be sure," said the Doctor,
"and I think we have brought you round."

UP A TREE.

IN the regions away under the shadow
of the Rocky Mountains, a man is said to
have got "up a tree" when by accident
or otherwise he has got into an uncomfortable
position. If that smart stockbroker,
Phineas Y. Slingsby, purchases too much
of the Bully-Rag Quartz when it is on the
decline, then Montgomery-street with one
breath affirms that Phineas Y. has got up a
tree. In like manner, if you saw that noted
rowdy, Joram O' Mulligan, lately of
Baltimore (and formerly of Cork), who, it had
been rumoured, had been long "hunting"
you with evil intentions, coming out of
the Erin saloon, Dupont-street, with a short
double-barrelled gun under his arm, and
you without any lethal weapon of any sort,
then you would hurriedly conclude, as you
"made tracks" for the nearest shelter, that
you were decidedly "up a tree," and the
crowd and newspaper reporters,
disappointed of a "difficulty," would echo the
sentiment.

I suppose the phrase originated with
some unfortunate individual who had taken
to a tree for safety from wild animals, and
had been there kept for a longer time than
he had bargained for. Some four of us
were once lying round a camp fire in
Montana territory discussing this point, and in
the course of the talk each of us gave our
experience of the uncomfortable feeling
of being up a tree physically as well as
metaphorically.

"You see," said an old digger, "I was
only once regularly treed, and that was by
a grizzly down in Sacramento county,
about fifteen years ago, before the Californy
gold excitement. I was a kind of foreman
to old Cap'n Sutter, and, as we had
to keep all the saint days, we had no
want of holidays down that a-way. Well,
I mind it well, it was on the Feast of San
Juan Capistrano, that I figged myself
out to go off to a reg'lar hoss race,
fandango, and all the rest of it down to
the mission. I was right smart, velvet
jacket, velvet pants, split up, with a row
of silver buttons, every one costing a
dollar and a half, cambric shirt, and a
twenty-dollar sombrero with gold tassels.
Well, off I started, and just as I was passing
through the chapparal, what should I
see but an old grizzly bar, making off
into the bush. Now, to tell you the
truth, boys, about that time I was courtin'
a Mexican gal, and I was just then on
the way to see her. I knew all them
gals had then, and I guess they have
still, a reg'lar touch of the wild-cat in
'em, and thought what a fine thing it
would be if I could bring along to her a
good grizzly skin such as the old Ephraim*
in the bush had on its back. So back I
slips to the house for my rifle, thinking I
had him as safe as anything. When I
came back the bar was out of sight, but
I knew he was in the bush, so in I
goes. I had not gone far when I heard
a rush, but I got the start of him, and
made for a nutmeg pine just as fast as
my legs could carry me, and not a bit too
soon either, for I felt—or at least I thought
I did—a snap at the heel of my boot, as I
was hauling myself up. In the climb I
dropped my rifle at the foot of the tree,
and incapacitated my velvet pants for
fandango use any further. Howsever,
thinks I, they can be mended, but I can't,
so I was uncommon glad to be astride
of a branch grinning at the grizzly
below.†  My satisfaction was hardly so great
when, instead of moving off in a few
minutes, my grizzly quietly took up his
quarters under the tree, and laid himself
down for a snooze. However, let me only
attempt to descend, and he was awake
in a moment. Hours passed on, and I
became reg'larly riled. I could hear
distinctly the fiddling of the fandango not
a mile off. I could see caballeros a-hossback
in the distance, but they couldn't
hear me, and everybody was away from
the place. About twelve o'clock I was
getting hungry, and wouldn't have minded
a little dinner; but no, sir, grizzly was
thar. I guess he felt the same; but
disappinted in this child, he commenced on
the stock of my rifle. It was one of the
aggravatenest things ever poor mortal had
to stand, to see that darned grizzly setting
under a tree chawin', yes, chawin' (and
seemin' to enjoy it too) my fifty-dollar shooting
iron! Now o' then, I rejiced to hear a
brass nail spilin' his teeth; but, on the
whole, he seemed to like the fun of chawin'
the stock. Once by accident he fired it
off, with a crunch of his teeth, but by ill

* A common surname for a grizzly bear.

† This species of bear is the only one, with the
exception of the Polar bear (and it has no chance), which
cannot climb a tree.