The pioneer West : $b Narratives of the westward march of empire
History
The pioneer West : $b Narratives of the westward march of empire
Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.)
By nine o’clock the town is in the full flow of business. The streets
running down to the water, and Montgomery street which fronts the
Bay, are crowded with people, all in hurried motion. The variety of
characters and costumes is remarkable. Our own countrymen seem to lose
their local peculiarities in such a crowd, and it is by chance epithets
rather than by manner, that the New Yorker is distinguished from the
Kentuckian, the Carolinian from the Down-Easter, the Virginian from the
Texan. The German and Frenchman are more easily recognized. Peruvians
and Chilians go by in their brown ponchos, and the sober Chinese, cool
and impassive in the midst of excitement, look out of the oblique
corners of their long eyes at the bustle, but are never tempted to
venture from their own line of business. The eastern side of the plaza,
in front of the Parker House and a canvas hell called the Eldorado,
are the general rendezvous of business and amusement--combining
’change, park, club-room and promenade all in one. There, everybody not
constantly employed in one spot, may be seen at some time of the day.
The character of the groups scattered along the plaza is oftentimes
very interesting. In one place are three or four speculators bargaining
for lots, buying and selling “fifty varas square” in towns, some of
which are canvas and some only paper; in another, a company of miners,
brown as leather, and rugged in features as in dress; in a third,
perhaps, three or four naval officers speculating on the next cruise,
or a knot of genteel gamblers, talking over the last night’s operations.
The day advances. The mist which after sunrise hung low and heavy for
an hour or two, has risen above the hills, and there will be two hours
of pleasant sunshine before the wind sets in from the sea. The crowd
in the streets is now wholly alive. Men dart hither and thither, as if
possessed with a never-resting spirit. You speak to an acquaintance--a
merchant, perhaps. He utters a few hurried words of greeting, while his
eyes send keen glances on all sides of you; suddenly he catches sight
of somebody in the crowd; he is off, and in the next five minutes has
bought up half a cargo, sold a town lot at treble the sum he gave, and
taken a share in some new and imposing speculation. The very air is
pregnant with the magnetism of bold, spirited, unwearied action, and he
who but ventures into the outer circle of the whirlpool, is spinning,
ere he has time for thought, in its dizzy vortex.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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