He married the beautiful Dona Rosalia
Vallejo, sister of Don Guadalupe. There were the old high features and
sandy hair. I put my chair beside him, and began conversation, as
any one may do in California. Yes, he was the Mr. Lies; and when I
gave my name he professed at once to remember me, and spoke of my
book. I found that almost- I might perhaps say quite- every American
in California had read it; for when California "broke out," as the
phrase is, in 1848, and so large a portion of the Anglo-Saxon race
flocked to it, there was no book upon California but mine. Many who
were on the coast at the time the book refers to, and afterwards read
it, and remembered the Pilgrim and Alert, thought they also remembered
me. But perhaps more did remember me than I was inclined at first to
believe, for the novelty of a collegian coming out before the mast had
drawn more attention to me than I was aware of at the time.
*Pronounced "Leese".
Late in the afternoon, as there were vespers at the Roman Catholic
churches, I went to that of Notre Dame des Victoires. The congregation
was French, and a sermon in French was preached by an Abbe; the
music was excellent, all things airy and tasteful, and making one feel
as if in one of the chapels in Paris.
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