George wandered along in astonishment
and despair. Where was any one who had
not the qualities of Sam Slick's Kentuckian,
half-horse, half-alligator, to set in amongst
that rude and confused crew?

At length he pitched, in utter desperation,
on a little vacant space.

"Avast there, mate," shouted a great, tall
sailor, "that belongs to a Dutchman, don't
you see his pegs?"

George saw the pegs and moved on. It was
long before he could see a single yard of
unoccupied ground, but at length he discovered
a small triangular spot between three other
claims. He took one pick.

"Hands off there, old fellow! That is
mine," said the huge head of a huge brick-red
man, just lifted above the ground out of a
hole.

"Yours?" said George, mildly, "why, you
have one already."

"Yes," replied the large head, "but that's
my little parlour; d'ye object? If so, I'll
get a neighbour to occupy it."

"No," said George and walked on, saying
to himself, "Is this a scene for a gentleman?"

Many a long hunt, and many a rude
rebuff he experienced before he could secure a
claim; and when he began to dig he was
speedily reminded of the romantic accounts
he had read, of just turning the gold out of
the soft earth a few feet deep, as you would
turn out potatoes. The gravel that he had
to delve into was as hard set as a brick wall.
Totally unused to manual labour, though
yielding to no one in strength, he soon found
that it was not like wielding a pen at a
desk. The sun seemed at once to burn off the
very skin of his face, neck and hands, and
to melt him down as a contribution to the
stream. His hands were soon covered with
blisters, and a painful sense came over his
mind that if he found gold he would have
most dearly earned it when got. Wearied,
dejected and sore, as if the sun had really
flayed him alive, he returned to the tent at
evening, and sat down silent, and on the
verge of despair. Never, since he was born,
had he had such a suspicion that he was a
fool.

But Adam set about to cheer him up, told
him all would go well in a while, and insisted
on the next day on going to look on, if not to
help. Very soon he jumped into the hole,
took his turn with the pick and shovel, and
from that day worked regularly and stoutly.
In about a week, they had got down to nearly
the depth of the surrounding holes, whose
owners had already finished, and were gone
away to fresh ground.

"We are certainly about down," said
George, striking his pick into the gravel at
his feet; when down indeed it went, and he
tumbled into a hole like a cellar beneath!
The active neighbours had undermined their
claims, and had walked off with the booty!
Soon there was a crowd of diggers round the
hole, pretty well aware of what would take
place, and loud was the laughter at "the
gentleman's cellar," and loud exclamations of
"what a sell!"

We shall not follow our heroes step by
step, through this arduous field. Their
experience was varied, often comical, but by no
means amusing to them—least of all, profitable.
The four pounds of George Widdrington
—their sole resource, for Adam's little fund
was gone—were rapidly melting away; and
of all the tons of gold which had been
secured, not an ounce had yet fallen to their
share. They had worked on the hill and in
the valley; in the wet and in the dry. They
had rushed away to new rushes, and tried
fresh spots for themselves, with the same
result. Starvation stood before them. "This
will never do!" exclaimed Adam
Swinburne. And the next morning there stretched
across the front of their little blanket-tent,
occupying some six feet by five, and three
feet high, in large black letters traced on a
piece of calico with the end of a bruised
stick,and by the aid of a blacking-bottle this
magnificent monograph, "MEDICAL HALL.
DR. SWINBURNE, FROM THE ROYAL COLLEGE
OF SURGEONS."

Let us see what will come of that.

NUMBER SEVEN.

EVERY one knows with how many things
—divine as well as human—the number
seven is connected. It occurs in Sacred
Scripture and ecclesiastical ordinance no less
than in Asiatic superstitions; it is recognised
in works of our illustrious Wykeham, and
also in Grecian architecture; it pervades
the authentic history of nations as well as
their fable and romance; and in Europe as
well as in the East, a mysterious significance
appears to belong to it.

To begin with a rough glance at the use of
seven. Looking, first, at its occurrence in
the Scriptures, and in ordinances of the
Catholic Church, we have the seven-fold gifts
of the Holy Spirit; the seven sentences of
our Lord, and the seven clauses of His prayer;
the representation by St. John in his Apocalypse
of the Wonderful Being who dwells in
celestial grandeur, as walking in the midst of
seven golden lamps, which are churches;
we are warned against the seven deadly sins,
and exhorted to the seven principal virtues
and the seven works of mercy; to the
traditional merit of this holy number the ordinance
of seven sacraments has ever been attributed,
and the articles of faith in relation to the
Trinity were (in a synod held at York in
fourteen hundred and sixty-six) arranged
into seven, as were those relating to the
nature of our Lord. The Church, moreover,
recites the seven penitential Psalms, and
observes the seven hours or offices of daily
prayer. The schoolmen in the middle ages
were fond of speculating on the mystical