was soon buried in smoke and reflection. I thought of the time when I
had not money enough to pay my passage to the Golden State--of the
exertions I had made to raise the amount necessary, and the many
refusals that I had met with at the hands of those who now professed to
be my friends.

I blew aside the smoke that enveloped my head, and fixed my eyes upon
one red-faced cousin, who owned bank shares, and bought stocks when low,
and sold them when a rise had taken place. He had laughed at me for my
impertinence in supposing that he could loan me money, and now he was
seated at my table, chuckling at my jokes, and swearing, while he helped
himself to liquor, that I was the best fellow alive, and that there was
nothing but what he would do for me.

Could it be possible that the possession of fifty or sixty thousand
dollars had wrought such a change? I was forced to believe it, and I
grew sad at the thought, and no more jokes escaped my lips that night;
but the company remained as late as usual, and declared by a unanimous
vote that they would meet again at the same place the next evening, and
hear further particulars.

Before sunset the next day I had changed my apartments, and taken
private lodgings with a friend who had visited me but once since my
return, and had then refused to accept of the hospitalities that I was
disposed to offer him. He had lent me money without security--he had
declined taking interest for the same--he had welcomed me on my arrival
as warmly as I expected--he did not ask me how much dust I had brought
back and he never said a word about his wish to be repaid the few
hundred dollars that he had advanced me when I left home to seek my
fortune. When I did offer him the money, and thrust a diamond ring upon