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THE



OVERLAND MONTHLY



DEVOTED TO



THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE COUNTRY.



JULY DECEMBER, 1883.

VOLUME II. SECOND SERIES.



SAN FRANCISCO:

SAMUEL CARSON, PUBLISHER,

No. 120 SUITER STREET.



BACON & COMPANY,

PRINTERS.



, 2-

CONTENTS.

Alaska, The Seal Islands of George Ward-man 23

American Colony at Carlotta, The Enrique Farmer 488

Annetta Evelyn M. Ludlum 17, 189, 311, 431, 538, 644

Angel on Earth, The : A Tale of Early California ..H.L. Wright 402

Art of Utterance, The John Murray 399

Authority M. Kellogg 637

Avalon, The Precursor of Maryland L. W. Wilhelm 158

Balm in November : A Thanksgiving Story Elsie Ange 499

Bernardo the Blessed O. S. Godkin 283

Book Reviews.

American Citizen's Manual, 107. Authors and Publishers, 106. Balladen und Neue Gedichte von
Theodor Kirch hoff, 662. Bay of Seven Islands.and Other Poems.The, 661. Beyond Recall, 214.
Books and How to Use Them, 107. Catalogue Illustredu Salon, 107. Courtship of Miles Stand-
ish, 661. Cruise of the Canoe Club, The, 108. Daisy Miller, a Comedy, 554. Daniel Webster,
219. Dosia, 663. Earlier Poems of Anna M. Morrison, 662. Emerson's Works, 663. English
as She is Spoke, 220. English Bodley Family, The, 663. Fair Plebeian, A, 216. For the Major,
213. Freedom of Faith, The, 105. From Ponkapog to Pesth, 106. Germany Seen Without
Spectacles, 333. Golden Chersonese, and the Way Thither, The, 106; Gray's Elegy, Artists'
Edition, 661. He and She, 662. Her Sailor Love, 216. Historical Studies, 557. Hot Plow-
shares, 211. House-keeper's Year-Book, 106. How to Help the Poor, 660. Illustrated Art
Notes, National Academy of Design, 107. In the Carquinez Woods, 553. Italian Rambles, 333.
James Nasmyth, Engineer, 106. Ladies Lindores, The, 215. Letters and Memorials of Jane
Welsh Carlyle, 104. Life on the Mississippi, 333. Martin the Skipper, 444. Miseries of Fo Hi,
The, 444. Monographs and Reports, 445, 664. Nan, 221. Oliver Wendell Holmes, 101. Pages
from an Old Volume of Life, 220. Poems, Antique and Modern, 661. Popular History of Cali-
fornia, A, 221. Pyrenees to Pillars of Hercules, 333. Questions of Belief, 556. Reading of
Books, The, 221. Renan's Recollections, 332. Sea-Queen, A, 211. Shakespeare's Sonnets, 334.
Shakespeare's Venus and Adonis, Tarquin and Lucrece, and Other Poems, 334. Studies in
Wave, 443. 220. Studies in Literature, 331. Studies in Science and Religion, 442. Surf and
Biography, Theatre Contemporaine, 107, 334, 663. Times of Battle and Rest, 444. Twelve
Americans, 334. Twenty Poems from Longfellow, Illustrated by his Son, 661. Vix, 445.
Voices for the Speechless, 443. Voyage of the Jeannette, The, 658. Wealth-Creation, 105.
Work for Women, 663. X Y Z, 216. Yolande, 214.

Botanical Explorers, Early, of the Pacific Coast C. C. Parry 409

California Cereals, I., II., Joseph Hutchinson 8, 144

Carlotta, The American Colony at Enrique Farmer, 488

Census of our Indian Population Sherman Day 465

Child Life Among the California Foothills Mary E. Bamford 56

Characteristics of Our Language, Some Edwin D. Sanborn 345

Chinese Question, The J. P. Widney 627

Christian Turk, A C.E. B 459

Ciudad De La Reyna De Los Angeles, La Clara Spaulding Brown 60

Civilizing the Indians of California Sherman Day 575

Country Walk, A Lucy H. M. Soulsby 582

Crane, William Watrous, Jr 653

Current Comment.

Careers of Graduates of the State University 97

The Harvard and Yale Examinations The People and the Money Power in Government.
The Tendency to Law of College Graduates. Marking Up in Teachers' Examinations 217



iv Contents.

Death of W. W. Crane, Jr. Charles Francis Adams, Jr., on Greek and French. The Modern
Classical Spirit. The Middle Initial in England. Reform in the Higher Grades of the Civil

Service 327

The Reception of the Knights Templar. The Civil Service Examinations 441

Discussion of Chinese Immigration. State Laws for Examination of Teachers. Education in

the Public Schools of American Cities. Standards of Aristocracy 549

Critics of Society and the Pacific Community. California the Superlative of Americanism 657

Day's Ramble in Japan, A .Jos. F. Taylor 533

Drama in Dream-land, The Charles Warren Stoddard 118

Early Botanical Explorers of the Pacific Coast C. C. Parry 409

Education, Science and G. Frederick Wright 369

Episode of Old Mendocino, An A. G. T. 137

Family Names and Their Mutations 323

Freedom of Teaching, The Josiah Royce 235

Frontier Prospector, The F. M. Endlich 125

Glance at Short-hand Past and Present, A '. F. E. Tremper 40

Guppy's Daughter Charles Howard Shinn 113

Illustrations, by M. E. Brown: A Redding Bar Pioneer; Guppy's Daughter.

Hafiz, The Poet: His Life and Writings 0. H. Roberts : 200

His Messenger -. Margaret Bertha Wright 387

Ideal Club, The K. M . Bishop 632

Idle, Good for Nothing Fellow. An 33

Incidents of Horseback Travel in an Indian Country. N. Dagmar Mariager 614

Indian Population, Census of Our Sherman Day 465

Indians of California, Civilizing the Sherman Day 575

Just a Wilful Girl Millie W. Carpenter 131

King Cophetua's Wife James Berry Bensel 65, 152, 292

Lake Tahoe, Physical Studies of John LeConte . 506, 595

Language, Some Characteristics of Our Edwin D. Sanborn 345

Lassen Trail, The Old Oscar F. Martin 74

Lazy Letters from Low Latitudes Charles Warren Stoddard 337

Life, Science and 6. Frederick Wright 279

Migration Problem, The Charles Howard Shinn 26?

Music and Drama A. A. Wheeler 98

Mute Councilor, The A. A. Sargent 516

My New Friend 0. S. Godkin 164

Old Lassen Trail, The Oscar F. Martin 74

Old Mendocino, An Episode of A.-G.T 137

Old Port of Trinidad, The A. T. Hawley 276

Our New Bell 258

Outcroppings.

Age of Cans, The R. E. C. S 557

Fourth of July, 1848, at San Jose' del Cabo de

San Lucas Monterey Ill

From Camp E. R . 112

Howl Saw the Comet L 110

How Jennett Saw the Comet L 336

Once Upon a Time Sara D. Halsted 559

Out of the World E. E 223

Photographic Negative, A K. M. B 221

Poetry.

Dying Heroes, The I. C. L 448

Fate E. C. Sanford 223

In Lent Geoffrey Burke 448

Invitation, An ..R.E.C.S 221



Contents. r

Pretty Vassar Senior, The Joel Benton 447

Private Letters of Travel Ivy Wandesforde Kersey ; M. W 664

Sestina -. .Florence M. Byrne 445

Summer Longing, A Margaret A. Brooks UQ

Woman, A Fantasy Edmund Warren Russell 000

Rus in Urbe K. M. B 334

Spanish Captain's Account of California, A 445

Uncle Joshua's Extraordinary Experience L. W. S 447

Past and Present of Political Economy, The Richard T. Ely 225

Pacific Houses and Homes Susan Power 394

Pericles and Kalomira: A Story of Greek Island

Life William Sloane Kennedy 241

Physical Studies of Lake Tahoe John LeConte 506, 595

Pioneer Sketches.

I. The Old Lassen Trail Oscar F. Martin 70

II. An Episode of Old Mendocino '..A.O.T 134

III. Our New Bell 25?

Poet Hafiz, The : His Life and Writings 0. H. Roberts 208

Proud Woman, A Ralph S. Smith 178

Political Economy, The Past and Present of Richard T. Ely 225

Putting in the Summer Professionally D. S. Richardson 3, 173

Question About Our Public Libraries, A Harriet D. Palmer 592

Recent Fiction . . .211

Rudimentary Society Among Boys John Johnson, Jr 353

Science and Education G. Frederick Wright 369

Science and Life G. Frederick Wright. 279

Science, Uncertainties of G. Frederick Wright 183

Seat Under the Beeches, The W. Winthrop 49

Seal Islands of Alaska, The Geo. Wardman 28

Shepherd at Court, A 358, 472, 561

Short-hand, Past and Present, A Glance at F. E. Tremper 40

Small Latin and Less Greek Geo. B Merrill 417

Some Characteristics of Our Language Edwin D. Sanborn 345

Summer Canons Milicent Washburn Shinn 205

Switzerland of the Northwest, The.

I. 'The Mountains W. D. Lyman 300

II. The River W. D. Lyman 374

Tim's History Elizabeth B. Willcox , 617

Trinidad, the Old Port of A. T. Hawley 276

Uncertainties of Science G. Frederick Wright 183

Under the Shadow of the Dragon Abbot Kinney 449

Up in the Sierras 44

Utterance, The Art of John Murray 399

Visit, A Y. H. Addis .262

Wagner at Home John Parrott, Jr 108

Why S. R. Heath 83

William Watrous Crane, Jr 653

Yesterday, To-day, and To-morrow: A California

Mosaic Kate M. Bishop . . 529



vi Contents.



POETRY.

Across the Plaius Emily H. Baker 240

At Morn 574

August Charles S. Greene 117

Beyond the Mountains E. C. G 59

Buttercups Wilbur Larremore 48

Drifting Arthur L. J. Crandall 416

Felice Notte E. D. R. Bianciardi 96

Gone Wilbur Larremore 299

In a Great Library Charles S. Greene 352

Leisure Margaret A. Brooks 612

Lilies Ada Lanyworthy Collier 486

Love Deathless TJiomas E. Collier 182

Mistaken Carlotta Perry 257

Mountain Grave, A Mary E. Bamford 505

On a Picture of Mt. Shasta, by Keith E. R. Sill 1

Queen and the Flower, The Margaret B. Harvey 528

Quern Metui Moritura E. R. Sill 34*

Sonnet Katharine Royce 537

Sonnet Katharine Royce 16^

Sonnet Amelia Woodward Truesdell 581

Song E. P. B 464

Song J. C 636

Sunshine Found 73

To My Soul Robertson Trowbridge 408

Vaquero to His Horse Virginia Peyton 136

Wood-Chopper to His Ax, The Elaine Goodale 2*5



THE



OVERLAND MONTHLY



DEVOTED TO



THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE COUNTRY.



VOL. II. (SECOND SERIES.) JULY, 1883. No. 7.



ON A PICTURE OF MT. SHASTA BY KEITH.

Two craggy slopes, sheer down on either hand,
Fall to a cleft, dark and confused with pines.
Out from their somber shade one gleam of light
Escaping toward us like a hurrying child,
Half laughing, half afraid, a white brook runs.
The fancy tracks it back thro' the thick gloom
Of crowded trees, immense, mysterious
As monoliths of some colossal temple,
Dusky with incense, chill with endless time:
Thro' their dim arches chants the distant wind,
Hollow and vast, and ancient oracles
Whisper, and wait to be interpreted.

Far up the gorge denser and darker grows
The forest: columns lie with writhen roots in air;
And across open glades the sunbeams slant
To touch the vanishing wing-tips of shy birds;
Till from a mist-rolled valley soar the slopes,
Blue-hazy, dense with pines to the verge of snow,
Up into cloud. Suddenly parts the cloud,
And lo! in heaven as pure as very snow,
Uplifted like a solitary world
A star, grown all at once distinct and clear
The white earth-spirit, Shasta! Calm, alone,
VOL. II. i.



On a Picture of ML Shasta by Keith.

Silent it stands, cold in the crystal air,
White-bosomed sister of the stainless dawn,
With whom the cloud holds converse, and the "storm
Rests there, and stills its tempest into snow.

Once you remember? we beheld that vision,

But busy days recalled us, and the whole

Fades now among my memories like a dream.

The distant thing is all incredible,

And the dim past as if it had not been.

Our world flees from us; only the one point,

The unsubstantial moment, is our own :

We are but as the dead, save that swift mote

Of conscious life 1 . Then the great artist comes,

Commands the chariot wheels of Time to stay,

Summons the distant, as by some austere,

Grand gesture of a mighty sorcerer's wand,

And our whole world again becomes our own.

So we escape the petty tyranny

Of the incessant hour; pure thought evades

Its customary bondage, and the mind

Is lifted up, watching the moon-like globe.

How should a man be eager or perturbed
Within this calm? How should he greatly care
For reparation, or redress of wrong,
To scotch the liar, or spurn the fawning knave,
Or heed the babble of the ignoble crew?
See'st thou yon blur far up the icy slope,
Like a man's footprint? Half thy little town
Might hide there, or be buried in what seems
From yonder cliff a curl of feathery snow.
Still the far peak would keep its frozen calm,
Still at the evening on its pinnacle
Would the one tender touch of sunset dwell,
And o'er it nightlong wheel the silent stars.

So the great globe rounds on, mountains, and vales,
Forests, waste stretches of gaunt rock and sand,
Shore, and the swaying ocean, league on league:
And blossoms open, and are sealed in frost;
And babes are born, and men are laid to rest.
What is this breathing atom, that his brain
Should build or purpose aught, or aught desire,
But stand a moment in amaze and awe,
Rapt on the wonderfulness of the world.

E. R. Sill.



1883.]



Putting in the Summer Professionally.



PUTTING IN THE SUMMER PROFESSIONALLY. I.



MY vagabond friend came to me one June
day in Oakland and made a proposition.
I call him vagabond because he rather en-
joyed the appellation than otherwise; and as
he is still tramping somewhere, and may see
this, I desire to please him. The truth of
the matter is, he was a traveling dentist, and
his field of operations extended all over the
State. He had plugged teeth under the
shadows of Shasta, and plucked molars on
the plains of Yuma. There were mouths
up among the Sierra fastnesses which bore
traces of his handiwork, and celluloid indi-
cations of his presence along the shore from
Humboldt to San Luis Obispo. I liked
this doctor for three reasons: in the first
place, he liked me; secondly, he was a good
fellow; and lastly, I was in his debt. I do
not mean by this that I owed him money.
It was a different obligation; for did he not
come to me one time forty miles in the
hot sun over a high mountain and stick to
me for two days and nights when I had an
ulcerated face? and when I wanted to pay
him for it he got mad. In the summer-
time he traveled in a light spring wagon,
and carried along his coffee-pot and blank-
ets, his tool chest, and a little furnace for
cooking teeth. Where night overtook him
he pitched his tent; and I have known him
to work for days in the open field, with his
improvised dental chair set beneath a friendly
oak. Whatever the people had to pay was
currency with this practitioner. He would
put in a set of teeth and take in payment a
colt, a steer, or a brace of shotes. .Hides,
sheepskins, and chickens were often tendered
as compensation for patched-up grinders,
and, if not too far from a market, were
rarely declined.

On various occasions I had accompanied
the doctor on his dental forays into the
rural districts, and we had become fast
friends. In fact, he wanted me to join him
and learn the business; but I never could



acquire the art of pulling a tooth, and the
monotonous vigil beside a pot of simmering
biceps had no charms. It was the free, out-
door life I loved the night encampment
under the stars; the fields and the woods.
So I listened to his proposition. Would I
join him on a trip through Lake and Men-
docino counties? I should go where he
went, fare as he fared, sleep where he slept,
and he would pay all the bills. Just here I
must tell you something. For several
months the purpose had been shaping itself
in my mind to try my hand at teaching a
country school. Although still a beardless
youth, I believed I could do it, for the
world was young then ; O. P. Fitzgerald was
superintendent of public instruction, and I
had a State certificate. The doctor's prop-
osition seemed to afford the opportunity I
desired to look around. So I accepted,
imposing the single condition that I should
have the privilege of deserting the itinerant
dental establishment at any time, if an op-
portunity presented of securing a school.

For two weeks we jogged slowly along, up
through the beautiful Napa Valley, loitering
here and there at farm-houses and camping
in the open fields. The weather was glori-
ous, and the whole summer lay before us.
To the doctor, perhaps, time was of greater
value than it was to me, but it was easy to
tempt him into idleness. Notwithstanding
the sanguinary and unsympathetic nature of
his profession, a vein of poetry cropped out
here and there in his composition, rendering
him vulnerable to the charms of nature.
Wherever a cool spring bubbled out of the
mountain side or a sylvan nook lured us
from the dusty highway, there we stopped
and pitched our tent. Many a time, when
this rambling doctor should have been pull-
ing teeth, and I in rapt attendance on his
steaming pot, we were snoozing the happy
hours away in the corner of somebody's
wheat field, or stretched along the green



Patting in the Summer Professionally.



[July,



sward by stream and in bird thicket, hiding
from the noonday sun. It was not profit-
able, perhaps, from a moneyed standpoint;
but what did we care for money? Could
anybody put a price on the warm sunlight
and the sweet, free air? Did it cost any-
thing to throw ourselves along the bosom of
Old Mother Earth and sleep, or dip our
faces into the cool streams and pools? Nor
were we in danger of starving when the
woods were alive with game and the streams
with fish. There were lonely cows to be
waylaid and robbed of their milk, and
groaning orchards designed and planned for
midnight forays. Who would not be a tramp
in a land like this? or who would pay for
fruit in the month of June when he could
steal it? A fig for the philosophy of toil!
It was invented by some bloodless wretch
who never saw the sun or a land of plenty.
Such, at least, was our philosophy as we
idled away the summer days, and grew fat
and dusty. The doctor, I am sure, did not
get down to business until after we parted
company; and he has since informed me,
with something of reproach in his tone, that
two or three more such trips would ruin his
professional reputation. He seemed to hold
me responsible, somehow, for his vagrancy
which was not just right.

It was not until the end of the second
week that I found my school. By this time
we had wended our way up over Mount St.
Helena and down into the borders of Lake
County. Here there is a little valley which
goes by the name of Coyote. You have
been there, perhaps, and know how pretty it
is; fields of golden grain, cozy farm-houses
nestled here and there among the trees, and
a mountain outlook on every hand. A form-
al call was made upon the three rustic gen-
tlemen constituting the local school board.
Would they have me to teach their young
Coyotes? They looked me over and said
they would

"O. P. Fitzgerald's certificate is as good
as wheat," remarked one, the foreman of the
trio, who gloried in the name of Stumpit.
"You come back one week from to-day,
young man, and start in."



That this off-hand employment of a
stranger was hasty and ill-advised will be
seen in the sequel. My conscience has
never troubled me, however, for I did not
know at the time how bad a man I was.
Knowledge comes with experience; and it is
astonishing how much a man will learn even
about himself if he will place himself under
developing conditions.

Another week's lease of life, and then
my troubles began. The doctor and I spent
it pretty much as we had its two predeces-
sors, gradually working our way northward
over the second mountain warll and down
by the lake-shore. Here we made our last
camp under the shadows of the Konookta,
and here one bright morning we parted.
With all my effects packed into a light grip-
sack, and thirty-five cents in my pocket, I
started back on foot over the fifteen miles
of mountain road separating me from
Coyote and my prospective field of duty.
If the doctor had known how impecunious
I was, he would have given me a twenty;
but I did not tell him. He would have
given me the shirt on his back if I had in-
timated my necessity for it. I needed the
shirt badly enough; but I was prouder in
those days than I am now, and so said noth-
ing. Climbing the grade a few hundred
yards, I seated myself on a rock and watched
him drive away among the trees. He
waved the coffee-pot in affectionate fare-
well salutation, when a turn in the road was
reached which hid him from view, and I was
left alone in the woods.

The day which followed was exceedingly
hot, and the up-hill tramp through the fine
red dust became, in a few hours, very labo-
rious. However slowly I might proceed,
hugging the shade spots on the winding
grade, it was impossible to keep cool, and
.my grip-sack, like the grasshopper, became
a burden. Life seemed too short and pre-
cious for such nonsense on a summer day, so,
towards noon, I switched off under a man-
zanita bush and went to sleep. It must
have been mid-afternoon when I awoke, with
a mighty vacancy in my stomach and a col-
ony of tree-ants -in my vest. Far up the



1883.]



Putting in the Summer Professionally.



mountain, to ray left, a band of sheep were
grazing, and it occurred to me, after getting
rid of the ants, that there must be a herd-
er's camp somewhere in the vicinity, and
perhaps I could " work " that rustic individ-
ual for a square meal. Former experiences
had led me to the conviction that the aver-
age sheep-herder is a pretty good fellow
inclined to be hospitable and glad to see you.
It makes no difference whether he be Dago,
Kanaka, or Greek, when you meet him on
his lonely stamping grounds. He is human
and homely in keeping with his rude sur-
roundings and the smile of welcome which
percolates his oily visage is apt to be sincere.
Having in my mind's eye the typical repre-
sentative of this fraternity, imagine my con-
sternation on finding myself confronted by a
rosy damsel of sixteen, bare-footed, straw-
hatted, and sweet-voiced as a med-lark.
She had seen me first, and stood watching
me from a little rocky ledge as I labored up
the mountain side. For a moment I was
dumb with astonishment. Could this be
the sheep-herder I sought? I had read
somewhere of gentle shepherdesses tending
their flocks on Arcadian hills, and ensnaring
the hearts of all things masculine; but that
was in the golden age. What was this
Grecian maiden doing in Lake County? and
where was her crook ? Probably imagining
from my startled attitude and voiceless
stare that I was about to shy off into the
brush, or that I could not talk yet, she said :

"Do not be frightened. Come up."

" Do you herd these sheep? " I stammered.

"Yes, sir."

"Are you not afraid to be out here in'the
woods alone?"

"Not a bit."

"Are you not afraid of me?"

"No; but I thought you was of me";
and she laughed merrily, somewhat to my
discomfiture.

" If I am not capable of inspiring fear,"
I thought, "would that I might excite some
gentler emotion." But I shall not tell you
all the nice things I thought and said during
the next two hours. It is sufficient for you
to know a few of the materialistic facts.



It is sufficient for you to know that I came
up to her side; that I told her I was hun-
gry: that I was a vagabond on the face of
the earth, going to teach a school in Coyote ;
and that if the Lord would forgive me for
attempting to walk up the red-hot mountain
under a July sun I would never be guilty of
like offense again. And then she told me
that she had a bottle of milk and some
lunch at a spring a little farther up the cafio n,
and that I should share it with her if I
would. And what a lunch we had ! Corn
bread, a little bacon, some wild blackberry
jam, and milk. Perched on the bank above
the spring, my new-found wood-nymph
laughed and chattered, and make me eat the
most of it. She was not hungry, she said;
she had just relieved her brother on the moun-
tain, and had eaten before leaving home.

"Then why did you bring the lunch?"
I asked.

" O, we sometimes feel hungry towards
evening," she replied.

" You knew I was coming, didn't you?"

" No; but I'm sorry you are going."

And so was I. In fact, I was half tempted
to turn sheep-herder then and there, and let
the Coyote school go by the board; but I
could not figure far enough ahead. That
vexatious brother to whom she alluded
might give me trouble. She also had the
misfortune to have parents who might ques-
tion my continuous presence on the moun-
tain. It would not do.

" I will come back to see you," I said.
And I mean to do it one of these days.

Diving into the bottom of my sack, I
brought out a pair of the doctor's forceps,
left there by accident, and begged of her to
accept them as a token of my gratitude.
It was all I had to give, unless she would
accept some portion of my wearing apparel,
for which latter I presumed she had no use.
Furthermore, she might consider these for-
ceps as a symbol of the grip she had on my
young affections. I had never known them
to let go. Stealing a last look into her mer-
ry eyes a little saddened, I thought, when
the parting came I shouldered my baggage
and trudged away.



Putting in the Summer Professionally.



[July,



It was now near sunset, and, as the result



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