NED'S NEW PROFESSION PAYS ADMIRABLY--HE AND TOM WAX PHILOSOPHICAL--"PAT"
COMES FOR A "LANDSCAPE" OF HIMSELF--LYNCH LAW AND THE DOCTORS--NED'S
SITTERS--A YANKEE SWELL RECEIVES A GENTLE REBUFF.
The ups and downs, and the outs and ins of life are, as every one is
aware, exceedingly curious,--sometimes pleasant, often the reverse, and
not infrequently abrupt.
On the day of their arrival at the settlement, Ned and Tom were almost
beggars; a dollar or two being all the cash they possessed, besides the
gold-dust swallowed by the latter, which being, as Tom remarked, sunk
money, was not available for present purposes.
One week later, they were, as Abel Jefferson expressed it, "driving a
roaring trade in pictur's," and in the receipt of fifty dollars, or 10
pounds a day! Goods and provisions of all kinds had been suddenly
thrown into the settlement by speculators, so that living became
comparatively cheap; several new and profitable diggings had been
discovered, in consequence of which gold became plentiful; and the
result of all was that Edward Sinton, esquire, portrait and landscape
painter, had more orders than he could accept, at almost any price he
chose to name. Men who every Saturday came into the settlement to throw
away their hard-earned gains in the gambling-houses, or to purchase
provisions for the campaign of the following week, were delighted to
have an opportunity of procuring their portraits, and were willing to
pay any sum for them, so that, had our hero been so disposed, he could
have fleeced the miners to a considerable extent. But Ned was not so
disposed, either by nature or necessity. He fixed what he considered
fair remunerative prices for his work, according to the tariff of the
diggings, and so arranged it that he made as much per day as he would
have realised had he been the fortunate possessor of one of the best
"claims" in the neighbourhood.
Tom Collins, meanwhile, went out prospecting, and speedily discovered a
spot of ground which, when wrought with the pan, turned him in twenty
dollars a day. So that, in the course of a fortnight, our adventurers
found themselves comparatively rich men. This was satisfactory, and Ned
admitted as much one morning to Tom, as he sat on a three-legged stool
in his studio--i.e. a dilapidated log-hut--preparing for a sitter, while
the latter was busily engaged in concluding his morning repast of
damper, pork, and beans.
"There's no doubt about it, Tom," said he, pegging a sheet of
drawing-paper to a flat board, "we are rapidly making our fortunes, my
boy; but d'you know, I'm determined to postpone that desirable event,
and take to rambling again."
"There you go," said Tom, somewhat testily, as he lit a cigar, and lay
down on his bed to enjoy it; "you are never content; I knew it wouldn't
last; you're a rolling stone, and will end in being a beggar. Do you
really mean to say that you intend to give up a lucrative profession and
become a vagrant?--for such you will be, if you take to wandering about
the country without any object in view."
"Indeed, I do," answered Ned. "How often am I to tell you that I don't
and _won't_ consider the making of money the chief good of this world?
Doubtless, it is an uncommonly necessary thing, especially to those who
have families to support; but I am firmly convinced that this life was
meant to be enjoyed, and I mean to enjoy it accordingly."
"I agree with you, Ned, heartily; but if every one enjoyed life as you
propose to do, and took to rambling over the face of the earth, there
would be no work done, and nothing could be had for love or money--
except what grew spontaneously; and that would be a joyful state of
things, wouldn't it?"
Tom Collins, indulging the belief that he had taken up an unassailable
position, propelled from his lips a long thin cloud of smoke, and smiled
through it at his friend.
"Your style of reasoning is rather wild, to say the least of it,"
answered Ned, as he rubbed down his colours on the bottom of a broken
plate. "In the first place, you assume that I propose to spend _all_ my
life in rambling; and, in the second place, you found your argument on
the absurd supposition that everybody else must find their sole
enjoyment in the same occupation."
"How I wish," sighed Tom Collins, smoking languidly, "that there was no
such thing as reasoning. You would be a much more agreeable fellow,
Ned, if you didn't argue."
"It takes two to make an argument," remarked Ned. "Well, but couldn't
you _converse_ without arguing?"
"Certainly, if you would never contradict what I say, nor make an
incorrect statement, nor draw a wrong conclusion, nor object to being
contradicted when I think you are in the wrong."
Tom sighed deeply, and drew comfort from his cigar. In a few minutes he
resumed,--"Well, but what do you mean by enjoying life?"