AURIFEROUS MEDITATIONS.
“Golden airs of Californy,” said Mrs. Partington,
as she read in the Post an advertisement of some new
music; “such airs, I should think, would be very replenishing,
and I wish a draft of 'em would blow this
way. What a country that Colifarny is!” murmured
she, in a half reverie, in which golden visions, like the
sunshine reflections on the kitchen wall, from her teacup,
were dancing through her brain. “What a queer thing!
where gold is so plenty they pick it up in quarts on
American Forks, — Connetticut ones, I dare say; but
spoons, I should think, would be a good deal better.”
Of course it would. Strange that the miners did n't
think of this in the first place. Many a valuable suggestion
of hers has benefited the world; though the
world was not aware of its indebtedness until she said,
“I always thought so;” and this coming late, she never
got the credit for it.
