“In the second place, young man, set up a shrine in your heart, and worship female purity and virtue; then you are safe. If you have a mother or sisters, don’t forget that a woman who is not fit for their society is not worthy of your regard. “Youthful affection, my boy, is not inexhaustible. Keep it for future reference--and worthy objects. You may yet live to wish that the worldly heart of to-morrow were the young and fresh one of yesterday. “And now, I must leave you. Good-night, my boy, and don’t forget what I have said to you.” “But, sir,” cried the lad, “your name, who shall I--?” His benefactor had disappeared in the darkness. The boy stood for a time gazing blankly into the night in the direction in which the stranger had disappeared; then, drawing himself up proudly, as became a son of fair Virginia, he placed the bag of gold in his pocket and his pistol in its holster, cast a scornful glance toward the windows of the Palace and strode resolutely away. * * * * * A few days after the scene at the gaming house, I chanced to meet an old time friend of my father’s, hailing from Maine. Mr. Allen, it seemed, had “struck it rich” and was on his way back to the “States.” From this gentleman I received a glowing account of the wealth of the placer mining region in Tuolumne county, which at once determined my future course. When he informed me that the country where he had made his “pile” was not only rich in gold, but badly in need of doctors, I decided that Tuolumne should have at least one medical celebrity. Investing some of my greatly diminished capital in an outfit which I thought might harmonize to a certain extent with the new field for which I was about to depart, I bade farewell to San Francisco and set my face toward the fame and the pot of gold that lay at the foot of the rainbow of my dreams. * * * * * It was a calm sultry evening in the month of July, 1860, that I embarked on board a steamboat plying between San Francisco and Stockton, the latter city being the gateway to the wonderful country distinguished by its wealth and scarcity of doctors, so graphically described by my friend, Mr. Allen. The trip up the Sacramento river, although pleasant enough, had very little novelty about it, and I confess that I at first experienced a feeling of disappointment at the lack of entertainment which the scenery afforded. Our route lay for a comparatively short distance up the Sacramento, the major portion of my journey being comprised by one of its tributaries--the San Joaquin--a stream that is insignificant enough during the dry season, but which in the early spring is formidable enough to those who live sufficiently near the river to get the benefit of its overflow during the spring freshets.