Summary

Portrait of Bret Harte Bret Harte Brown of Calaveras

Then Jack tried his hand with dice; but he always threw sixes, and his imaginary opponent aces. The force of habit is sometimes confusing.
Meanwhile, some magnetic influence in Mr. Hamlin's presence, or the anodyne of liquor, or both, brought surcease of sorrow, and Brown slept. Mr. Hamlin moved his chair to the window, and looked out on the town of Wingdam, now sleeping peacefully--its harsh outlines softened and subdued, its glaring colors mellowed and sobered in the moonlight that flowed over all.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Bret Harte Bret Harte Brown of Calaveras

Hamlin returned to the coach. His foot was upon the wheel, and his face raised to the level of the open window, when, at the same moment, what appeared to him to be the finest eyes in the world suddenly met his. He quietly dropped down again, addressed a few words to one of the inside passengers, effected an exchange of seats, and as quietly took his place inside. Mr. Hamlin never allowed his philosophy to interfere with decisive and prompt action.
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Bret Harte Bret Harte Brown of Calaveras

Beside her sat Colonel Starbottle and Judge Boompointer, and a later addition to her court in the shape of a foreign tourist. She was in good spirits.
"What do you see down the road?" inquired the gallant Colonel, who had been conscious, for the last few minutes, that Mrs. Brown's attention was diverted.
"Dust," said Mrs. Brown, with a sigh. "Only Sister Anne's 'flock of sheep.'"
The Colonel, whose literary recollections did not extend farther back than last week's paper, took a more practical view. "It ain't sheep," he continued; "it's a horseman. Judge, ain't that Jack Hamlin's gray?"
Source: Wikisource

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature