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 persever ance was crowned with success. There was one window devoted exclusively to the use of foreigners; and here a polyglot individual, who would have been a useful member of society in 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 canvass buildings, the very look of which suggested the idea of a conflagration. A room was a mere partioned-off place, the walls of which were sometimes only of canvass, 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 other wise 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. The cry of fire is dreadful enough any where, but to any one who lived in San Francisco in those days, it must ever be more exciting and more suggestive of disaster and destruction of property, than In other countries, when a fire occurs, and a large amount of property is destroyed, the loss falls on a company - a body without a soul, having no individual identity, and for which no one, save perhaps a few of the share-holders, has the slightest sympathy. The loss, being sustained by an unknown quantity, as it were, is not appreciated; but in San Francisco no such institution as insurance against fire as yet existed. To insure a house there, would have been as great a risk as to insure a New York steamer two or three weeks overdue. By degrees, brick buildings were superseding those of wood and pasteboard; but still, for the whole city, destruction by fire, sooner or later, was the dreaded and fully-expected doom. When such a combustible town once ignited in any one spot, the flames, of course, spread so rapidly that every part, however distant, stood nearly an equal chance of being consumed. The alarm of fire acted like the touch of a magician's wand. The vitality of the whole city was in an instant arrested, and turned from its course. Theatres, saloons, and all public places, were emptied as quickly as if the buildings themselves were on fire; the business of the moment, whatever it was, was at once abandoned, and the streets became filled with people rushing frantically in every direction-not all towards the fire by any means; few thought it worth while to ask even where it was. To know there was a fire somewhere was quite sufficient, and they made at once for their house or their store, or wherever they had any property that might be saved; while, as soon as the alarm was given, the engines were heard thundering along the streets, amid the ringing of the fire-bells and the shouts of the excited crowd. Their esprit de corps is very strong, and connected with the different engine-houses are reading-rooms, saloons, and so on, for the use of the members of the company, many of these places being in the same style of luxurious magnificence as the most fashionable hotels. On holidays, and on every possible occasion which offers an excuse for so doing, the whole fire brigade parade the streets in full dress, each company dragging their engine after them, decked out in flags and flowers, which are presented to them by their lady-admirers, in return for the balls given by the firemen for their entertainment. They also have field-days, when they all turn, it can be to those who have been all their some open part of the city ha and in lives surrounded by brick and stone, and insurance companies. a trial of strength, seeing which can throw a stream of water to the greatest height, or which can flood the other, by pumping water into each other's engines. As firemen they are most prompt and efficient, performing their perilous duties with the greatest zeal and intrepidity-as might, indeed, be expected of men who undertake such a service for no hope of reward but for their own love of the danger and excitement attending upon it, actuated, at the same time, by a chivalrous desire to save either life or property, in trying to accomplish which they gallantly risk, and frequently lose, their own lives. This feeling is kept alive by the readiness with which the public pay honor to any individual who conspicuously distinguishes himself—generally by presenting him with a gold or silver speaking trumpet, while any fireman who is killed in discharge of his duties is buried with all pomp and ceremony by the whole fire-brigade. Three miles above San Francisco, on the shore of the bay, is the Mission of Dolores, one of those which were established in which denotes the presence of a wealthy and prosperous community. The "Mission," however, was not suffered to remain long in a state of torpor. A plank road was built to it from San Francisco. Numbers of villas sprang up around it, and good hotels, a race-course, and other attractions soon made it the favorite resort for all who sought an hour's relief from the excitement of the city. miles from San Francisco, is the town of At the very head of the bay, some fifty San Jose, situated in an extensive and most fertile valley, which was all being brought under cultivation, and where some farmers had already made large fortunes by their onions and potatoes, for the growth of which the soil is peculiarly adapted. San Jose was the head quarters of the native Californians, many of whom were wealthy men, at least in so far as they owned immense estates and thousands of wild cattle. 69 They did not "hold their different parts of the country by the Span- own, however, with the more enterprising iards. It was a very small village of a few people who were now effecting such a comadobe houses and a church, adjoining plete revolution in the country. Their which stood a large building, the abode of property became a thousand-fold more valthe priests. The land in the neighborhood uable, and they had every chance to benefit is flat and fertile, and was being rapidly by the new order of things; but men who converted into market-gardens; but the had passed their lives in that sparsely popvillage itself was as yet but little changed. ulated and secluded part of the world, It had a look of antiquity and complete-herding wild cattle, were not exactly caldirecting a few half-savage Indians in ness, as if it had been finished long ago, culated to foresee, or to speculate upon, and as if nothing more was ever likely to be done to it. As is the case with all the effects of an overwhelming influx of Spanish American towns, the very style of men so different in all respects from themthe architecture communicated an oppresselves; and even when occasions of ensive feeling of stillness, and its gloomy riching themselves were forced upon them, solitude was only relieved by a few listless they were ignorant of their own advantaunoccupied-looking Mexicans and native ges, and were inferior in smartness to the Californians. men with whom they had to deal. Still, although too slow to keep up with the pace at which the country was now going ahead, many of them were, nevertheless, men of disadvantage as members of the legisla considerable sagacity, and appeared to no ture, to which they were returned from parts of the State remote from the mines, and where as yet there were few American settlers. The contrast to San Francisco was so great, that on coming out here one could almost think that the noisy city he had left but half an hour before had existence only in his imagination; for San Francisco presented a picture of universal human nature boiling over, while here was nothing but human stagnation - -a more violent extreme than would have been the wilderness as yet untrodden by man. Being but a slightly reduced counterpart of what San Francisco was a year or two before, it offered a good point of view from which to contemplate the miraculous growth of that city, still not only increasing in extent, but improving in beauty and in excellence in all its parts, and progressing so rapidly that, almost from day to day, one could mark its steady advancement in everything San Jose was quite out of the way of gold-hunters, and there was consequently about the place a good deal of the Califor nia of other days. It was at that time, however, the seat of government; and, consequently, a large number of Americans were here assembled, and gave some life to the town, which had also been improved by the addition of several new streets of more modern-looking houses than the old mud and tile concerns of the native Cali- THE REDEEMED HANDKERCHIEF. fornians. Small steamers plied to Alviso, within about ten miles of the town, from San Francisco, and there were also four-horse coaches which did the fifty miles in about five hours. The drive down the valley of the San Jose is in some parts very beautiful. The country is smooth and open-not so fat as to appear monotonous-and is sufficently wooded with fine oaks; towards San Francisco it becomes more hilly and bleak. The soil is sandy; indeed, except ing a few spots here and there, it is nothing but sand, and there is hardly a tree ten feet high within as many miles of the city. (Continued.) THE EVENING FIRESIDE. Fireside! evening fireside! Within my childhood's home; Oh! the ever-pleasant memories That round thee clustering come! There sat my kind, old mother, The gentle voice of yore;- There sat my aged father, With scattered locks and gray, Bowed down with many a well-spent year, And many a hard-toiled day. Wondering, we listened while he read, And many a gem of gold, Lay treasured in the ancient page, Of the glorious minds of old. There lay the old gray house-dog Beside my father's knee; And puss upon the hearth-rug slept, So warm and cosily. The pitcher stood before the fire, With well-pressed cider filled, And russet apples by its side, Their generous scent distilled. Fireside! evening fireside! Within my childhood's home; G. T. S. BY CLOE. CHAPTER IV. Things remained in this situation for two or three weeks; they were polite and considerate of each others' feelings; they were strangers to each other in every respect; they were man and wife only by law; not in heart. These were the terms upon which Charles consented to have her come to his home. They both thought much of this, neither wishing to break the bounds first. Charles had been to the city and did not return home until late in the evening; and having seen Adaline, he again heard many reports derogative to his wife's virtue. He thought that his conduct perhaps was the cause of Kate's falling in love with Bently; but said to himself, if I find Bently interfering in this affair, I will call him to account for trying to bring disgrace on my house. I can bear anything better than disgrace, by my wife. While these thoughts were passing in his mind, he neared the old mansion, when he saw the door open and a man pass out, while he held the hand of a female; he gazed in astonishment; could that be Kate, whom he thought pure in heart, even if he did not love her? He thought her his honorable wife, and as his wife he would not see her dishonored in any way. For the first time in his life, he felt the annoying pangs of jealousy corroding a heart naturally unsuspicious. Keeping his eye on the figure of the man who had just left the house, he soon came up with him, and eyeing him closely, was almost sure it was Bently, but was not certain. On going near the house, he heard Kate singing and playing a favorite piece of his, in a sweet and plaintive voice; he stood transfixed to the spot until the voice ceased, and he thoughs he heard low sobs. He knocked, and Dinah opened the door to admit her young master. Charles' eyes immediately sought Kate, and one look was sufficient to tell him that she had been weeping. His heart smote him for his unkind suspicions and cold, unsocial conduct towards her. "Are you not sitting up quite late, Mrs. McClure?" he enquired. "Yes, rather late," said Kate; and immediately rising from her chair, she bid him good night, and retired: glad to be alone, where she could weep unobserved by any one. "What could that old sailor mean by his singular caution to me relative to my enemies? It was very kind of him to come and see me before he leaves for California; and to promise to call on my mother, and tell her my unpleasant situation. Poor Jack, he is honest, or the tears would not have flowed down his cheeks when he bid me good by, just before Charles came in. I wonder who my enemies are, about whom Jack has told me so often, and with such evident concern. I will do what is right, and then I need not fear;" and, committing all to God, she retired to rest. For several days Charles watched Kate with feverish impatience to find out her every thought, as he had began to feel a peculiar interest in Kate. Things were in this state, when Charles received a note from Mrs. Milford, requesting the pleasure of his and his wife's company at her house at nine in the evening. Charles handed it to Kate, and asked her if she would like to attend. "I feel very much honored by the invitation," answered Kate; "but unless you very much wish me to go, I would prefer remaining at home." "You are at liberty to decide for yourself," Charles replied, evidently much disappointed at her not accepting the invita tion. again. Yes, it was Kate's, he knew it! It was the redeemed, the fatal handkerchief. Oh! how much unhappiness it had cost him. It had blasted him twice. It had opened his eyes in one short moment, like Mother Eve's apple, to a full analyzation of his feelings for Kate! "Yes," said he, "it is love that I feel for this erring wife of mine: why have I not discovered it before? Oh were she innocent, and loved me, I should be the happiest man in the world! Charles excused himself from his old friend, and make his way home; and, on reaching there, he determined to reveal to her his discovery, and tell her of her perfidy. "Where is your mistress, Dinah ?" said Charles; "I wish to speak to her." "Why, lor massa Charles, she gone out this evenin' with a gentleman to see sick woman. I think she stays a long time: she was not well when she went out; I knowed she was not, for she was as white as a sheet, and was crying all the evening. Why, what is the matter, massa Charles, are you sick?" "Oh no, Dinah, you may go to bed, and I will wait for your mistress." "Oh no, massa, you go to bed." "Don't stand there talking, you old negress, but go to bed immediately." Dinah obeyed in a fright, not being accustomed to such treatment. Charles waited for two long hours before he heard a carriage stop in front of the mansion, and heard a gentle tap at the door. He arose and admitted Kate; and her companion drove off without being recognized by him. "Where is Dinah ?" said Kate. "I sent her to bed, as I preferred to wait for you myself, as I have much to say to you," was the answer. This evening, Kate, for the first time, noticed his pale and haggard looks. She threw off her bonnet and shawl; and taking a chair, awaited his speech. In the evening he attended the party, and delivered his wife's excuse to Mrs. Milford, who expressed her regret, as she was in hopes of seeing her, not having had that pleasure for some time, and had given the party almost on her account. Charles could scarcely conceal his participation in her disappointment. The evening had few enjoyments for Charles, and he excused himself as soon as possible; and, accompanied by an old friend, they concluded to spend an hour or two in a fashionable ice cream saloon. Calling for ice cream and some nice fruit, they were enjoying themselves, when a door leading to another room was discovered to be partly open; there sat Bently by a table well filled with luxuries, and with his arm around a lady in a familiar manner. Charles was afraid I supposed you were unable to be out to scrutinize the lady, lest his suspicions this evening, Mrs. McClure," he began, should be realized; as he strongly suspect-"as you stated in your excuse to Mrs. ed it to be Kate. He was not long in this state of mind, for the couple arose and left; and Charles, seeing a white handkerchief lying on the floor, entered the room and picked it up; and, turning it over in his hand, he read the name of "Kate Hayes." Completely overcome, he sank upon a chair and looked at it again and Charles strode across the room and looked at Kate; she did not look criminal, but as pure as fallen snow. 66 Milford; and yet I find you out quite late; will you explain yourself, as 1 believe I have a right to demand an explanation?" "You have, Charles," Kate quietly replied; "and it will give me pleasure to have the privilege of explaining all to you. Do you remember that Methodist preacher, Mr. Allen, who married us ?" "Yes, and what of him?" "Why," said Kate, "his sister adopted a child that was illegitimate, belonging to a young lady in Charleston, and now the young lady denies the child, and its support; and the woman has become sick and destitute, and in her extremity she thought of your sainted mother's charity, and call ed on her for aid, not knowing that she was dead; but I did not send her away empty. This morning she became worse, and the doctor told her that she would not live through the night; and she begged him to come for me, as she wished to leave that little helpless babe to my charity. She died a few moments before I left, and I engaged the woman to take care of the child until I could consult you in the matter." "You have relieved my heart of a heavy load, indeed; but there is still a mystery that I shall wish cleared up." "A mystery! what is it?" enquired Kate. "I do not comprehend you." Charles pulled the handkerchief from his pocket which he found in the saloon, and told her where and how he found it, and all the particulars of his suspicions; "and," added he, "they were unwelcome suspicions to my heart." The big tears gathered in Kate's eyes; and rising, she attempted to go to him; but falling back in her chair, she said: "Charles, I am innocent of the heinous crime you would impute to me. That handkerchief is mine, and I will-I must tell you how it left my possession." She then related to him all that had passed between her and Bently, and the stratagem that Adaline had planned for her destruction; her escape from and her pledge to Bently; and of her forgiveness for the part he had taken towards her; and that she believed Bently was truly sorry for his blind passion, as he had treated her like a brother from that moment; and that she believed his error was more of the head than of the heart. "Mrs. McClure, I believe that you have not deceived me; to-morrow afternoon we will talk this matter over again, as it is now getting late, and we had better retire." He approached her, and taking her hand in his, he pressed it to his lips, and said: "If I have wronged you, will you forgive me?" "You have indeed my forgiveness; I am sorry that I have been the cause of so mach uneasiness to you." Withdrawing her hand, she retired, and Charles threw himself on the sofa, and ere he was aware he was sound asleep nor did he awake until morning, on hearing some one near him. He saw that it was Kate. She thought him asleep, and softly approached the sofa. Charles did not move, as he felt very anxious to see what she would do or say: so he affected to be asleep. She approached him nearer and nearer, and at length stooped over him and the large tears dropped on his face as she almost inaudibly whispered "How beautiful, and yet how pale and troubled he looks: Oh! did he but know how I love him, he would at least not believe me guilty of any attachment to Bently." He Charles moved a little, and Kate immediately darted into the other room. arose quite refreshed, and breakfast being ready, he took his seat beside his wife, with a better appetite than he had known for some time. After breakfast he sought Bently, and at once demanded explanation and satisfaction for his conduct towards his wife. "I have in no way injured you, Mr. McClure," said Bently, warmly. "The fact that I love your wife, is known to many, and I frankly own that it is true; I feel for her what I never felt for any other woman, and being informed by Adaline of the manner of your marriage, and that Kate was not loved by you, gave me to feel that there was hope for me; but I was refused, and I pleaded my love in vain. Adaline Gray tried to secure me your wife by stratagem, but I could not force one that was beloved by me; she has forgiven me, and I have become a better man. The lady you saw was no other than Adaline Gray; we met by appointment; in fact, she has disclosed to me her real character. Since she knew that she could not deceive me, I told her plainly that I would not marry her; and she knows also that I will not expose her. She is going to be married in a few days to a rich merchant of Philadelphia; and furthermore, my friend, I think you have reason to thank your lucky stars that you redeemed that handkerchief, for it was a better bargain than the one you contracted for: and I heartily wish you much joy. As I can not obtain the prize, give me back my pledge, that precious handkerchief." "No, Bently," said Charles, "I have the best right to it; but I will give you a pledge better befitting you: here is my hand, and I assure you, that you will ever be a welcome guest at our house, so good by, for the present." Charles returned home, and found that |