She broached the subject to Toledo, and that faithful official had nearly every miner in camp at the schoolhouse that same evening.  The judge brought a fiddle, Uncle Hans came with a cornet, and Yellow Pete came grinning in with his darling banjo.

There was a little disappointment all around when the boys declared their ignorance of “Greenville” and “Bonny Doon,” which airs Miss Brown decided were most easy for the children to begin with; but when it was ascertained that the former was the air to “Saw My Leg Off,” and the latter was identical with the “Three Black Crows,” all friction was removed, and the melodious howling attracted the few remaining boys at the saloon, and brought them up in a body, led by the barkeeper himself.

The exact connection between melody and adoration is yet an unsolved religio-psychological problem.  But we all know that everywhere in the habitable globe the two intermingle, and stimulate each other, whether the adoration be offered to heavenly or earthly objects.  And so it came to pass that, at the Bottle Flat singing-school, the boys looked straight at the teacher while they raised their tuneful voices; that they came ridiculously early, so as to get front seats; and that they purposely sung out of tune, once in a while, so as to be personally addressed by the teacher.

And she—­pure, modest, prudent, and refined—­saw it all, and enjoyed it intensely.  Of course, it could never go any further, for though there was in Middle Bethany no moneyed aristocracy, the best families scorned alliances with any who were undegenerate, and would not be unequally yoked with those who drank, swore, and gambled—­let alone the fearful suspicion of murder, which Miss Brown’s imagination affixed to every man at the Flat.

But the boys themselves—­considering the unspeakable contempt which had been manifested in the camp for the profession of teaching, and for all who practiced it—­the boys exhibited a condescension truly Christian.  They vied with each other in manifesting it, and though the means were not always the most appropriate, the honesty of the sentiment could not be doubted.

One by one the greater part of the boys, after adoring and hoping, saw for themselves that Miss Brown could never be expected to change her name at their solicitation.  Sadder but better men, they retired from the contest, and solaced themselves by betting on the chances of those still “on the track,” as an ex-jockey tersely expressed the situation.

There was no talk of “false hearted” or “fair temptress,” such as men often hear in society; for not only had all the tenderness emanated from manly breasts alone, but it had never taken form of words.

Soon the hopeful ones were reduced to half a dozen of these.  Yankee Sam was the favorite among the betting men, for Sam, knowing the habits of New England damsels, went to Placerville one Friday, and returned next day with a horse and buggy.  On Sunday he triumphantly drove Miss Brown to the nearest church.  Ten to one was offered on Sam that Sunday afternoon, as the boys saw the demure and contented look on Miss Brown’s face as she returned from church.  But Samuel followed in the sad footsteps of many another great man, for so industriously did he drink to his own success that he speedily developed into a bad case of delirium tremens.