"chowder." Alas! the chowder had long since disappeared! Upon receiving this information the unhappy gentleman placed his hand upon the pit of his stomach, uttered a low groan, and sat down in an attitude of great dejection before the fire. The Captain suggested that the patient only required more "nourishment," and accordingly furnished him with another large dose, which, aided by the warmth of the fire, soon restored the circulation of his blood. From the united explanations of both parties we were enabled, in the course of time, to get at the gist of Mr. Fry's most unfortunate and extraordinary adventure.

series of questions in reference to the direction of the American camp, to all of which the chief politely responded, "Go to grass!" It was evident he had not been long on the Reservation, or he would have been much further advanced. Mr. Fry was aware that pantaloons were held in high esteem by Government Indians; and, after some hesitation, pulled off his own and offered them to this intelligent chief, with the request that he would point out the way to the camp of the "Americanos." The present was eagerly accepted, and when our esteemed friend insisted upon receiving the desired information in return, the chief smiled pleasantly and said, "Go to grass!" In the mean time a venerable old Indian, with a gorgeous crown of feathers on his head, and his face elegantly tattooed with blue and red paint, urged his way through the crowd, and beckoning to the most importunate to step back, commenced a long harangue, not a single word of which Mr. Fry comprehended. It was evident, however, that he must have been the Chief of all the tribes in the district of Mendocino, from the eloquent manner in which he spoke and the general spread of his arms. There was nothing left to mollify this great personage but a pair of boots, which were drawn off with a profound groan by our excellent friend and duly presented to the chief in token of the highest admiration for his genius and character. Mr. Fry was now perfectly despoiled of covering, with the exception of his drawers, which were of so ancient a pattern that none of the Indians appeared to crave them as a present. As he stood shivering in the cold the chiefs all united in a dance, which he informed us was "the most singular and incomprehensible he had ever witnessed." First came the chief whose costume consisted of the vest, hopping on one leg and beating his breast ; next the formidable chief with the shark's teeth, with nothing on but the hat, marching around in imitation of a dandy white man; next the chief of the shirt, playing leap-frog all over the

It appeared that, after repeated attempts to climb the tree, he discovered that he was too heavy to make any progress in an upward direction. He therefore abandoned that experiment, and ran about a quarter of a mile in some direction of which he had not the least recollection. Secreting himself behind a rock, he waited until the moon went down, which was shortly after the alarm, and then attempted to make his way back to the camp, in doing which he lost the direction, and wandered about for some time quite bewildered. At length he perceived a fire in the distance, and made for it. To his great surprise and horror he found it was an encampment of wild Indians. Before he could escape they gathered around him, manifesting various signs of interest and curiosity in his unexpected appearance among them at that time of night. He had no doubt they were going to murder him for his clothes, which was all the property he had about him. To provide against this calamity he pulled off his vest, and presented it to a conspicuous Indian, who appeared to be a chief. Another soon came up, and manifested by signs that he was the head-chief, and also expected a present. Mr. Fry perceived that he was a very formidable-looking warrior, with feathers thrust through his nose and shark's teeth hanging from his ears, and respectfully requested him to accept of a hat. The chief seemed to be much gratified, and made some very pleasant remarks to his sub-ground; next the accomplished gentleman who ordinates; after which another chief, much older and apparently of still higher rank, appeared. By means of a rough map of Bear Harbor, which he drew on the ground with a stick, and various other signs, he contrived to explain that he was the head-chief of ALL the Indians in that vicinity, and would like very much to have a present suitable to his rank. Mr. Fry could think of nothing else worthy the acceptance of this chief than his shirt, which he pulled off at once, and begged that great personage to accept as a token of his respect and esteem. There was now a considerable stir among the dark assemblage, when a fourth and exceedingly distinguishedlooking personage made his way in front of the stranger, and, offering his hand politely, spoke three words of English-" Go TO GRASS!" This accomplished chief had evidently acquired his education on one of the Government Reservations. Mr. Fry was so rejoiced to hear these familiar words that he at once propounded a

spoke English, dressed in a pair of pantaloons, staggering around as if drunk, and requesting every body "to go to grass!" and last, though not least, the venerable chief of all the Mendocinos, accoutred in a pair of boots (and nothing else) in which he hopped dextrously up and down in front of his subjects, first on one leg and then on the other, singing at the very highest pitch of his voice a famous war-song of the tribe.

In the midst of the confusion Mr. Fry thought it best to leave; and being now perfectly chilled through, and unincumbered by clothing, he found that he could run with considerable speed. His feet, to be sure, were badly cut and bruised, but that was nothing in a case of life or death. It was not until he was entirely exhausted, and had given up all hope of relief, that he heard the firing of the guns. In a little while more the familiar voice of Captain Toby reached him. He remembered nothing

INGOTS.

Be careful of your dress, Jessic: that light silk had better have been left at home, for this is a greasy place; and dirty grease has a magnetic attraction for finery.

ing down." But it is not yet thin enough; it must be rolled ten times if gold, or eight if silver, to reduce it sufficiently, occasionally annealing it to prevent its breaking. No wonder the rollers look bright, they breakfast on silver and dine on gold.

That dial is not exactly a clock, though it looks like one. Do you see the little crank handle on it, above the hands? That is to regulate the space between the rollers. By turning it the distance is increased or reduced, and

The ingots are bars sharpened at one end like the hands of the dial are moved by the same a chisel blade, and are about a foot long, three-means, to show the interval between them. For fourths to two and a half inches broad, and half instance, when the hands indicate 12 o'clock the an inch thick, according to the coin to be cut rollers are as far apart as they can be. By turnfrom them. Continuing our walk through a ing the crank until the hands are at, say, half short entry, we come to the Rolling Room. past one o'clock, the distance is reduced about the sixteenth of an inch. It has been ascertained that when the hands point to, for instance, half past six, the rollers will be at the right distance from each other for rolling the strips thin enough for half eagles. So instead of saying, "Roll that strip the eighth of an inch thick," it is "Roll it to half past six." The rollers can be brought very close together. Give him that visiting card in your hand-there, it is pressed so hard that its texture is destroyed, and it crumbles like crisp pie-crust.

Those massive machines are the rolling-mills -four of them in a row, with their black heavy stanchions and polished steel rollers. The old man who runs this mill has been in the Mint nearly forty years, and young girls who came to see him work are now grandmothers, perhaps, with the tally of their good works marked on their foreheads, a virtue in every wrinkle; and he has gone on rolling out the ingots year after year, handling more gold in a twelve-month than you or I shall see in all our lives. He has not tired of showing his machine to visitors, and caresses the surly old iron with a motherly pride and affection. He measures two ingots, and shows us they are of the same length; puts one of them between the rolls, just above the clockdial, chisel end first, and it is drawn slowly through. He measures it with the other ingot, and we see it has grown about an inch longer and orrespondingly thinner. This is the "break

This dial arrangement, and some other improvements in the mill, are due to Mr. Franklin Peale, former chief coiner of the Mint, who devised it for the purpose of securing greater accuracy in measuring the distance between the rollers.

The pressure applied is so intense that half a day's rolling heats, not only the strips and rollers, but even the huge iron stanchions, weighing several tons, so hot that you can hardly hold your hand on them.

Every mill can be altered to roll to any degree of thinness, but usually the ingot passes through