The gold hunters : $b A first-hand picture of life in California mining camps in the early fiftiesBorthwick, John David
History
The gold hunters : $b A first-hand picture of life in California mining camps in the early fifties
Borthwick, John David
California -- Gold discoveries; California -- Social life and customs -- 19th century; Mining camps -- California -- History
The post-office clerks got through their work briskly enough when once
they commenced the delivery, the alphabetical system of arrangement
enabling them to produce the letters immediately on the name being
given. One was not kept long in suspense, and many a poor fellow’s face
lengthened out into a doleful expression of disbelief and
disappointment, as, scarcely had he uttered his name, when he was
promptly told there was nothing for him. This was a sentence from which
there was no appeal, however incredulous one might be; and every man was
incredulous; for during the hour or two he had been waiting, he had
become firmly convinced in his own mind that there must be a letter for
him; and it was no satisfaction at all to see the clerk, surrounded as
he was by thousands of letters, take only a packet of a dozen or so in
which to look for it: one would like to have had the post-office
searched all over, and if without success, would still have thought
there was something wrong. I was myself upon one occasion deeply
impressed with this spirit of unbelief in the infallibility of the
post-office oracle, and tried the effect of another application the next
day, when my perseverance was crowned with success.
There was one window devoted exclusively to the use of foreigners, among
whom English were not included; and here a polyglot individual, who
would have been a useful member of society of the Tower of Babel,
answered the demands of all European nations, and held communication
with Chinamen, Sandwich Islanders, and all the stray specimens of
humanity from unknown parts of the earth.
One reason why men went to little trouble or expense in making
themselves comfortable in their homes, if homes they could be called,
was the constant danger of fire.
The city was a mass of wooden and canvas buildings, the very look of
which suggested the idea of a conflagration. A room was a mere
partitioned-off place, the walls of which were sometimes only of canvas,
though generally of boards, loosely put together, and covered with any
sort of material which happened to be most convenient--cotton cloth,
printed calico, or drugget, frequently papered, as if to render it more
inflammable. Floors and walls were by no means so exclusive as one is
accustomed to think them; they were not transparent certainly, but
otherwise they insured little privacy: a general conversation could be
very easily carried on by all the dwellers in a house, while, at the
same time, each of them was enjoying the seclusion, such as it was, of
his own apartment. A young lady, who was boarding at one of the hotels,
very feelingly remarked that it was a most disagreeable place to live
in, because, if any gentleman was to pop the question to her, the report
would be audible in every part of the house, and all the other inmates
would be waiting to hear the answer she might give.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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