to Australia and buy a load of coal.” In due time again the Captain returned, but without a pound of coal, saying, that finding he would have to wait a long time for his turn to load, he thought it better to take his money for the piles and go down to the Society Islands for a load of oranges, six hundred thousand of which fruit he had on board. The orange market at that time was completely bare, and the profits of the voyage were heavy. “Now, Captain, go up and get one more load, and carry it down to Callao, and sell out everything, brig and all, and we will close up our business, and you can go home.” Thus by good luck, aided largely by the shrewdness of his captain, Dr. Merritt laid the foundations of a multi-millionaire’s fortune. It is needless to say that he closed his office and sought favorable investments for his money. He bought land in Oakland across the bay, laid out streets, built houses, and in time became mayor of the city, whose foundation he had laid. I saw the Doctor on his last visit East about six years ago, and he then boasted of nothing so much as of his yacht, which he said was the finest on the Pacific. I have recently read a journal of Mrs. Stevenson, the mother of Robert Louis Stevenson, of a six months’ excursion in the Pacific for the benefit of her son’s health in the yacht Casco, belonging to Dr. Merritt. Her account of an interview with the Doctor illustrates his personalty and deportment which had more of the _fortiter in re_ than the _suaviter in modo_. She says, “Dr. M. has just been here to settle the final business arrangements. He had heard that Louis had a mother, and was not at all sure of allowing an old woman to sail on his beloved yacht, so he insisted on seeing me before he left. When I came in I found a very stout man with a strong and humorous face, who sat still in his chair and took a good look at me. Then he held out his hand with the remark, ‘You are a healthy looking woman.’ He built the yacht, he told me, for his health, as he was getting so stout that some means of reduction were necessary, and going to sea had pulled him down sixty pounds. ‘The yacht is the apple of my eye—you may think (to Fanny) your husband loves you, but I can assure you that I love my yacht a great deal better.’” Dr. Merritt died three or four years ago, and the last I heard of his affairs was that his will was in litigation. CHAPTER XIII. In an earlier chapter I gave a list of the streets, squares, lanes and alleys, which existed in my boyhood, with the promise to say something concerning the changes, which they had gone through, and the houses and people and incidents associated with them. I have since taken a passing glance at Court, Main, Middle and North streets with the intention of referring to them again. In my treatment of Water street I have dwelt in detail on its buildings and occupants.