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Updated: May 9, 2025
In California, they are to be found largely at San Francisco, Oakland, Sacramento, Stockton, Fresno, Bakersfield, San Jose, Watsonville, Monterey and Los Angeles. Willing or unwilling, the Chinese prostitute is none the less a slave, bought and sold at pleasure from one to another, earning wealth for others and never for herself.
She died the following day; with Mr. The grave cannot now be found, and no records being then kept it is probably lost. I went home with Mr. Bennett to his home near Watsonville, and spent several days, meeting several of our old Death Valley party, and Mr. D.J. Dilley, Mrs. Bennett's father. Mrs. Bennett left surviving her a young babe.
Praise God! I was unable to resume my duties until April, 1904. Then I responded to a call from Boulder Creek, a lovely town in Santa Cruz mountains; next I went to Watsonville and vicinity; and after that I returned home for a rest, for I was not yet very strong. I arrived at home June first.
Old Murdock is up talkin' wild about damage suits, and there's evidently been one hell of a row, but I just got back myself from drivin' a drummer over to Watsonville." "Know if Darrell is in town?" "Oh, he's in town; there ain't no manner of doubt as to that." "Drunk, eh?" "Spifflicated, pie-eyed, loaded, soshed," agreed the liveryman succinctly. Welton shook his head humorously and ruefully.
Apples can be and are grown on a commercial scale through the coast district of Sonoma, Mendocino, and Humboldt counties; also in suitable situations in the coast counties south of Santa Cruz county. Along the coast, as far as deep retentive soil and the cool air of the ocean extend, one may expect to get apples similar to those produced in the Watsonville district.
What quality is it in the soil in the vicinity of Watsonville that makes that country peculiarly adapted to the culture of apples? Are there not other portions of the State where apples could be produced on a commercial basis? It is not alone quality in the soil, but character of the climate that underlie success in the Watsonville district.
Both landed at Benecia, and when we swung away from that wharf Rogers and I saluted each other with raised and swinging hats, shouted a good bye, and I have never seen him since. At Moore's Flat I found my mine well and profitably worked by Mr. Tyler and as his lease was not out I returned to San Jose, as I had learned from Rogers that Mr. A. Bennett was at Watsonville, and Mr.
One girl who desired to escape fell under suspicion, and her master decided to remove her to Watsonville, and so defeat her rescue. At the San Francisco Ferry Station she made a dash for liberty, pursued by the two men who had her in charge, and ran to a policeman, handing him a crumpled piece of paper, which proved to be a note that a missionary had placed in her hand when she landed in America.
Benson was alone in it, and he came to a stop alongside. "Where are you bound?" he inquired of Billy, with a quick, measuring glance at Saxon. "Monterey if you're goin' that far," Billy answered with a chuckle. "I can give you a lift as far as Watsonville. It would take you several days on shank's mare with those loads. Climb in." He addressed Saxon directly. "Do you want to ride in front?"
Upon the hill I met Judge Watson, the father of Watsonville, and a Mr. Graham, an old settler and land owner, and on this occasion he pulled a sheet of ancient, smoky looking paper from beneath his arm, pointed to a dozen or so of written lines in Spanish and then with a flourish of the precious document in Watson's face dared him to beat that, or get him off his land.
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