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J.W. Brier who seemed to want to impress it on the new California friends that he was the man of all others to be honored. The ranchman was a good Catholic, and Brier tried to make him understand that he, also, was very devout.
One beautiful summer day while walking about the San Carlos Mission Garden, Junipero Serra pondered over the wonderful progress of California both in the spiritual and material order; filled with joy the good priest blessed the land, and made a solemn promise to celebrate one hundred masses for the future peace and prosperity of California, moreover he promised to begin the fulfillment of his promise on the following November, twenty-fourth, feast of Saint Charles, the patron saint of the mission.
This doctor gave out that this was "California Brandy", costing seventy-five dollars, that he had advised Day to get it for medical purposes. Mr. Day was at this time getting a permit to sell it for medical purposes. He appeared in court to prove he was a graduated pharmacist, never drank, and never had a clerk that did. The W. C. T. U. were there in a body.
That night to every big newspaper office from Maine to California, was flashed the news that Plunger Carter, in a Broadway theatre, had announced that the favorite for the Suburban would be beaten, and, in order, had named the three horses that would first finish.
The people of the United States have never in the least realized that the taking possession of California was not only a conquering of Mexico, but a conquering of California as well; that the real bitterness of the surrender was not so much to the empire which gave up the country, as to the country itself which was given up.
She had received a letter from him only that morning which had made her smile and say: "Jon's in British Columbia, Val, because he wants to be in California. He thinks it's too nice there." "Oh!" said Val, "so he's beginning to see a joke again." "He's bought some land and sent for his mother." "What on earth will she do out there?" "All she cares about is Jon.
They're goin' to California, too." The gentleman lifted his hat. Now that he smiled his face was even kindlier, and he, too, had a pleasant, mellowed utterance that linked him with the world of superior quality of which David had had those two glimpses. "I am Dr. Gillespie," he said, "and this is my daughter Susan." David bowed awkwardly, a bow that was supposed to include father and daughter.
Le Conte's "Religion and Science," just issued, has come to our hands. It is a series of nineteen Sunday lectures on the relation of natural and revealed religion, prepared in the first instance for a Bible-class of young men, his pupils in the University of South Carolina, repeated to similar classes at the University of California, and finally delivered to a larger and general audience.
There was a driver by the name of Tingley on the Prescott line who had the run between Wickenburg and La Paz back in 1869. He had seen much Indian-fighting and was sufficiently seasoned to keep his head while the lead was flying around him. One February day he was on the box with two inside passengers, Joseph Todd of Prescott and George Jackson of Petaluma, California.
We were with him nearly an hour, talking about California generally, and of his personal friends, Persifer Smith, Riley, Canby, and others: Although General Scott was generally regarded by the army as the most accomplished soldier of the Mexican War, yet General Taylor had that blunt, honest, and stern character, that endeared him to the masses of the people, and made him President.
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