He conducted himself precisely as I anticipated.  For one week two thirds of his countrymen suspended work, and drank cheap whiskey at Mike’s expense.  His gold vanished like snow on the top of Mount Alexander at midday, and although many of the better class of Irish visited our store every day, and begged that we would interfere and help save a portion of his wealth, we declined to do so; and even Mr. Brown, who was appealed to, shrugged his shoulders, and made an oft-quoted remark that “a fool and his money were soon parted.”  The most that we would do was to promise that Mike should not buy a single sixpence worth of liquor at our store, and we kept our word, for which we got most heartily abused by our late employee’s friends; and one day we were obliged to have two or three arrested, owing to a display of pugilism which they made.

All things must have an ending, and to follow out Mike’s fortunes, I may as well state that he soon lost all of his money, was deserted by those who called themselves his friends, and that he was left without the means of buying a loaf of broad, or a glass of whiskey to keep off the delirium tremens.  He applied to us for employment, and we gave him something to do; but the thoughts of his folly weighed heavily on his mind, and one morning we found Mike hanging by his neck, in the rear of the store where we stabled our horses.

Had he but adhered to his first resolve, of returning to Ireland, and living in peace for the remainder of his days, his gold would have been of some use, not only to him, but to the community; but as matters transpired, the finding of the nugget was his greatest misfortune.

But to return to the day when our wealth was increased by a lucky stroke of the pickaxe, and when we began to think seriously of mining claims as means of making fortunes.  In this connection we were advised by Mr. Critchet, who, although not of a sanguine temperament, had made considerable money in speculation as well as in digging, and was enthusiastic when he learned that we had been amply repaid for all funds which we had advanced.

“Now is the time to sell,” he said, when he heard half a dozen applicants make inquiries regarding the terms for our now famous claim.  “Don’t hold back, and say that you don’t believe that the mine contains another nugget.  That won’t do in Ballarat.  Speak up with confidence, and tell about the richness of the mine, and your disinclination to sell.  That will only make people more eager, and you will get better terms.”  “But we don’t believe that the claim will ever pay another dollar,” I replied.

“What is that to you?” he retorted.  “Didn’t you buy without expectations, and haven’t you ever purchased a lottery ticket and drawn a blank?  A claim is a lottery, and one of the most treacherous kind.  Sell while you can, and try another site.”

We remembered of a purchase that we had made in California, when a shrewd fellow sold us his worked-out claim for two hundred dollars, and we were laughed at for our greenness.  We felt a desire to retaliate, but we had been taught in New England schools that two wrongs did not make one right, and we banished the plan from our minds of urging people to buy our mine on the plea that it was rich beyond comparison.  If it was desired, we determined that it should be bought without extolling claptrap of any kind.