As I was reading the paper, the contents of which interested me, I paid but little attention to my friend, until I suddenly laid it down, and said,—­

“Fred, let’s go to Australia.”

“Go to the d——­l,” he replied, turning on his side, his back towards me, and uttering a long w-h-e-w, as though he had found it difficult to catch his breath, it was so hot.

“We should find it hotter in the regions of his Satanic Majesty than here; but that is something that concerns you alone, as no doubt you are fully aware.”

Fred uttered a grunt—­he was too warm to laugh, and I again returned to the charge.

“Gold mines have been discovered in Australia, and ships are up at San Francisco for Melbourne.  A party of twenty left there last week, and more are to follow.”

There was no reply, and I continued:—­

“It is stated in this paper that a man took out a lump of gold weighing one hundred and twenty pounds, and that he had been but ten days in the mines when he found it.”

“What?” cried Fred, suddenly sitting up, and wiping the perspiration from his brow.

I repeated the statement.

“It’s a d——­d lie,” cried Fred.

“Then let’s go and prove it so.”

“How’s the climate in that part of the world—­hot or cold?”

“About the same as here.”

Fred meditated for a few minutes, lighted his pipe, and smoked on in silence; and as there was nothing better to do.  I joined him.

“We are not making a fortune here in California, and if we don’t do any thing in Australia, we shall see the country, and that will be worth something,” I said.

“Then let’s go,” cried Fred, refilling his pipe; and that very evening we commenced selling our stock of superfluous articles to our numerous neighbors, saving nothing but tent, revolvers, rifles, and a few other articles that would stand us in need when we reached Australia.

A week from the day that we made up our mind to try what luck there was in store for us in Australia, we were on board of a clipper ship, and with some two dozen other steerage passengers (for Fred and myself were determined to be economical) we were passing through the Golden Gate on our way to a strange land, where we did not possess a friend or acquaintance that we knew of.

“Well,” said Fred, as he stood on deck at the close of the day, and saw the mountains of California recede from view, “it’s precious little fun I’ve seen in that country; and if our new home is not more exciting, I shall be like the Irishman who pined away because he couldn’t get up a fight.”

“Don’t give yourself any uneasiness on that score,” replied the mate, who chanced to overhear the remark.  “I’ll warrant that you’ll see as many musses as you’ll care to mix in.”

“Then, Australia, thou art my home,” cried Fred, with a theatrical wave of his hand, as though bidding adieu to the Golden State forever.