circumstance to prevent the accused being immediately
set at liberty. It was merely one of those
accidents so apt to occur from the use of firearms,
even when every possible precaution was
taken. His client had injured a youthful
comrade and deeply sympathised with his sufferings,
and as there was no felonious intention, neither
could there be any ground for serious complaint.
Capital punishment was therefore out of the
question. "'What then," he inquired, "are you
going to do about it? It's hanging or nothing.
You can't send him to jail, for I'm happy to say
there's no such buildin' in these diggings."

The usual compliments to the well-known
moral and intellectual qualities of the jury
followed this forcible argument on the side of
mercy. He saw intelligence beaming in their
eyes, he believed that the twelve noble-hearted
men whom he saw before him were the most
honourable, the most high-minded——Here the
orator was interrupted by a slightly intoxicated
juryman, who could not refrain from giving his
assent to the panegyric by calling out, "You
bet!" in an encouraging tone of voice. Another
rather disconcerted the advocate by saying, "We
know all that; cut it short, old Tight-wad."
The effect of this rather mysterious appellation
was to bring the peroration to an abrupt close.
After a few observations had been made by the
counsel for the prosecution, Mr. Justice Lynch
summed up the evidence and the arguments on
both sides in a very concise manner, telling the
jury to return what verdict they thought proper,
but reminding them that, according to universal
experience in Texas and California, when the
exciting amusement of suspending fellow-citizens
by the neck was once begun, no man alive could
tell where it would end. The twelve honest
men retired by the light of the stars to a clearing
in the cane-brake to meditate upon their
verdict, and in the mean time bets were freely
taken upon the result by the more speculative
and impatient amongst the crowd. The prisoner
and his legal advisers conversed in an undertone,
and it was supposed that some arrangement
was being made with regard to fees,
"nothing for nothing " being the rule of conduct
even in the remote corner of the territories of
the United States. In about ten minutes the
jury returned to the tent and pronounced a
general verdict of Not Guilty, and the prisoner
was briefly informed by the judge that he might
"clear out" at once. An adjournment took
place to the bar-room over the way, and all the
assistants at the trial were soon engaged in the
consumption of that seductive fluid known in
the Far West as "lightning." The liberated
Hoosier and his late antagonist glared at each
other fiercely over their glasses of corn-whisky,
but the sense of the company was decidedly
opposed to a renewal of hostilities that night.
Returning to camp towards the small hours, my
friend Abe, who had been an attentive listener
to the speeches on both sides, gave me his
opinion in few words of the whole affair.

"Nobody shot and nobody hanged—that's not
the way we used to go on in California. Fact is,
my boy, there wasn't a man on the jury that
didn't know that he deserved a rope himself."

The wounded man eventually recovered, as
wounded men generally do when fortunate
enough to breathe the free air of the wilderness
instead of the close atmosphere of a hospital
ward. The eloquent counsel for the defence
never received a "red cent" from his ungrateful
client, as he told me with much indignation a
few months afterwards, when I saw him for the
last time, and joined him in a farewell " smile"
at the bar of the Gila City Hotel.

THE GOOD SERVANT: THE BAD MASTER.

THE year which is now fast drawing to a
close has been one characterised, among other
things, by an inordinate number of accidents by
fire. This good servant, but cruel and relentless
master, has during the past twelve months
appeared but too often in the last capacity, and,
turning on his employer, has not only wrought
fearful ravages with his property, but has on
many occasions taken his life as well. It must
be remembered that those who use the agency
of mighty furnaces in their occupations are
not the only members of the community who
employ this dangerous but necessary servant.
We call this slave to us whenever we order a
fire to be kindled in a boudoir, or even when,
with our own hands we strike the match into a
flame, and light the candle which burns before
our looking-glass. No one who does either of
these things should forget that he enters into
relations with an agency of terrific power,
engages a servant who must be kept in his place,
and one in his intercourse with whom we must
never venture on a liberty or run a risk. He
must be kept at a distance, literally ruled with
a rod of iron, for with no instrument less cold
and unimpressionable may this slave be
approached or controlled.

Now with regard to the management of this
same servant, whom we are all by-the-by obliged
to take into our service, with regard to the best
means of keeping him in his place, and rendering
it impossible for him to rise into that position
of master which he fills so badly—with
regard to these matters we have a word or two
to say, for which we entreat a patient audience
from those whom they may concern. We choose
this time for our lecture advisedly. Young
ladies, for it is you whom we chiefly address,
have the kindness to draw near and listen,
divesting your minds previously of all idea that
crinoline is to be the subject of the present
discourse. Once for all, and most emphatically
—it is not.

Christmas-time is at hand. Festivities of every
kind are looking up in the market. In some
classes of society every evening, and in all very
frequently, there comes an hour when the
sitting-rooms are deserted, and when lights flash in the
upper stories of the house. "The young ladies
are gone up-stairs to dress." We have no
intention of intruding upon them. Let them