San Francisco, and the captain thought he would put in that port on his
return and hunt up his runaway sailor, and behold, his absconding sailor
was rich enough when he found him to buy his ship and his whole cargo of
whale oil. I was introduced by him to his captain and shook hands with
him, and we had a good talk over it. Wherein does our stories of
fiction, of our boyhood, of Arabian Nights, surpass the actual events of
life, of the wonderful fluctuations of fortunes in California in the
days of the Forty-niners?

[Illustration: THE CAPTAIN AND THE RUNAWAY SAILOR.]

On the death of President Taylor, a meeting was called for the purpose
of having funeral obsequies there in his honor. A man was named for
president of the day. Then it was proposed to name a vice-president for
each State and Territory, which was done. There were persons in the
crowd from every one of them. A day was set apart for the ceremonies,
and all business was to be suspended. There was a long procession on
that day, and the masons and all societies and the people in general
turned out in full force, including the Chinese, who were smart enough
to think it would make a favorable impression in their favor. After the
parade was dismissed in the plaza, the Chinese were requested to remain,
and a missionary addressed them, and a Chinaman interpreted to them in
their own language. I noticed that their language was much more
condensed than ours. It took about a third of the time for him to
translate what the missionary said. When the missionary closed, he said
he hoped that we would all meet together in another and a better world.
It seemed to them so absurd that they looked at each other and smiled as
if it was a good joke. In those early days there were no particular
prejudices against them. Pagans, as we call them, practised the
Christian virtues toward their own countrymen. When the ship arrived