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direction. I would have asked him to proceed to the Sink of Mary's River, and recover an odd boot that I left there last fall, but he looked scarcely fit to make the journey. I feared he might be Jenkins, and forbore. But it's a glorious thing to reflect that we have an army at our disposal in this country, and a blessed reflection that should we lose any old clothing in the wilderness we can get Mr. Crawford to get that branch of the service to pick it up.

Tired at last of monotony, even in beautiful Sonoma, I packed up my carpet-bag, and taking the two-mule stage, passed through pretty little “ Napa’ again, and found myself, one evening, once more at Benicia. It had increased somewhat since I had left it. I observed several new clothes-poles had been erected, and noticed a hand-cart at the corner of a street that I had never seen before. But I had little time for observation, for the New World came puffing up to the hulks as I arrived, and I hastily stepped on board. Here I met my ancient crony and distinguished friend Le Baron Vieux, who was on his way from Sacramento to the metropolis. The Baron is a good fellow and a funny man. You have frequently laughed over his drolleries in the True Delta, and in his usually unimpeachably “good style” he showed me about the boat, introduced me to the captain, pointed out the “ model artists” who

were on board, and finally capped the climax of his polite attention by requesting me to take a drink. I didn't refuse, particularly—and we descended to the bar. And “what,” said the Baron with a pleasant and hospitable smile, “what, my dear fellow, will you

drink?" I chose Bine and Witters—the Baron himself drinking Bin and Gitters. We hob-a-nobbed, tossed off our glasses without winking, and, for an instant, gazed at each other in gasping, unspeakable astonishment. “ * Turpentine and aqua fortis !” shuddered I. “Friend!” said the Baron, in an awful voice, to the barkeeper, “ that drink is fifty cents; but I will with pleasure give you a dollar to tell us what it was we drank.” “We call it,” replied that imperturbable man, “Sherry Wine, but I don't know as I ever saw anyone drink it before.” Quoth the Baron, who by this time had partially recovered his circulation and the consequent flow of his ideas: “I think, my friend, you'll never see it drank before or behind hereafter.” The New World is an excellent and, for California, an elegant boat. Her captain (who don't know Wakeman ?) is a pleasant gentleman. Her accommodations are unequaled—but, and I

say this expressly for the benefit of my brethren of the "Dumfudgin Club,” never call for “ wine and bitters” at her bar. Ascending to the cabin on the upper deck, I had the satisfaction of a formal presentation to Dr. Collyer and his interesting family. Sober, high-toned, moral and well-conducted citizens may sneer if they please; rowdies may visit, and, with no other than the prurient ideas arising from their own obscene imagination, may indorse the same opinions more forcibly by loud ejaculations and vulgar remarks; but I pretend to say that no rightminded man, with anything like the commencement of a taste for the beautiful and artistic, can attend one of these “ Model Artist” exhibitions without feeling astonished, gratified, and, if an enthusiast, delighted. As our gallant boat, dashing the spray from her bow, bore us safely and rapidly onward through the lovely bay of San Pablo, the moon tipping with its silvery rays each curling wave around us, and shedding a flood of yellow light upon our upper deck, “I walked with Sappho." And “Oh, beautiful being,” said I, somewhat excited by the inspiring nature of the scene, and possibly, the least thought, by the turpentine I had imbibed, never feel, when in the pride of your matchless charms you stand before us, the living, breathing representation of the lovely, poetic, and ill-fated Sappho; do you never feel an inspiration of the moment, and, entering into the character, imagine yourself in mind, as in form, her beauteous illustration ?”

Well-yes,” said she, with the slightest possible in

66 do you



dication of a yawn, “I don't know but I do, but it's dreadful tearing on the legs!

Hem! a steamer's motion always made me feel unpleasantly, and the waves of San Pablo Bay ran high that evening. The Baron and I took more turpentine immediately. We landed in your metropolis shortly after, and succeeding in obtaining a man to carry my valise a couple of squares, for which service, being late, he charged me but thirty-two dollars, I repaired to and registered my name at the St. Francis Hotel, which, being deciphered with an almost imperceptible grin by my own and every other traveler's agreeable and gentlemanly friend, Campbell, I received the key of No. 12 and incontinently retired to rest. What I have seen in San Francisco I reserve for another occasion. I leave for San Diego this evening, from which place I will take an early opportunity of addressing you. I regret that I can not remain to be a participant in the coming celebration, but my cousin Skewball, a resident of the city, who writes with a keen if not a “caustic pen,” has promised to furnish you an elaborate account of the affair, which, if you print, I trust you will send me. Write me by the post orifice. Au reservoir.

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