city, enjoying myself with the novelty of everything. Passing down
Clay street, and near Kearney street, my attention was attracted by
a sign in large letters, "Jonathan D. Stevenson, Gold Dust Bought and
Sold Here." As I saw this inscription I exclaimed, "Hallo, here is
good luck," for I suddenly recollected that when I left New York my
brother Dudley had handed me a note against Stevenson for $350 or
$400; stating that he understood the Colonel had become rich in
California, and telling me, that if such were the case, to ask him
to pay the note. I had put the paper in my pocket-book and thought no
more of it until the sight of the sign brought it to my recollection,
and also reminded me of my solitary dollar. Of course I immediately
entered the office to see the Colonel. He had known me very well in
New York, and was apparently delighted to see me, for he gave me a
most cordial greeting. After some inquiries about friends in New York,
he commenced talking about the country. "Ah," he continued, "it is a
glorious country. I have made two hundred thousand dollars." This was
more than I could stand. I had already given him a long shake of
the hand but I could not resist the impulse to shake his hand again,
thinking all the time of my financial condition. So I seized his hand
again and shook it vigorously, assuring him that I was delighted to
hear of his good luck. We talked over the matter, and in my enthusiasm
I shook his hand a third time, expressing my satisfaction at his good
fortune. We passed a long time together, he dilating all the while
upon the fine country it was in which to make money. At length I
pulled out the note and presented it to him. I shall never forget the
sudden change, from wreaths of smiles to an elongation of physiognomy,
expressive of mingled surprise and disgust, which came over his
features on seeing that note. He took it in his hands and examined it
carefully; he turned it over and looked at its back, and then at its
face again, and then, as it were, at both sides at once. At last he