STATE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY. 73 



ANNUAL ADDRESS. 



DELIVERED BEFORE THE STATE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY, SEPTEMBER 

 TWENTY-FIRST, EIGHTEEN HUNDRED AND SIXTY-EIGHT. 



By JUDGE J. B. CROCKETT. 



Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen: 



We of California are a "fast" people — not only in the slang sense of 

 that term, but in its literal acceptation. When we speak of a "fast" 

 young lady, we mean one who is not over modest; who delights in a 

 flashy st\de of dress; who drives tandem or four-in-hand with the skill 

 of a Jehu ; who talks loudly at the opera, and is always doing things on 

 the very verge of impropriety. When we refer to a "fast" young man, 

 we mean one who sports the most delicate kids and the most impracti- 

 cable necktie; who drinks none but the best brandy, and a good deal of 

 it; who keeps a fancy team and several thoroughbred setter dogs; and 

 who, when scarce of cash, either sponges on his friends or patronizes 

 "free lunches." 



It is not to be denied that we of California, as a people, are somewhat 

 "fast" in this slang sense. We not only like to create a sensation, both 

 at hojne and abroad, but we sometimes accomplish that result by methods 

 of very questionable propriety. We delight to show the world that we 

 can perform achievements at which older communities would stand 

 aghast. Whatever is difficult of accomplishment has to us a peculiar 

 fascination; and if other people deem it impracticable, that is a conclu- 

 sive argument why we should immediately set about doing it. We are, 

 emphatically, a people of extremes, and are not content to follow prece- 

 dents simply because they are old. When we turn our attention to 

 horse racing, nothing but the most thoroughbred and high priced stock 

 will answer our purposes. Hence we import, at fabulous prices, Norfolk 

 and Lodi, two of the fleetest racei^ in the world, and who compose the 

 fancy team of that "fast" young blood, the public of California. In 

 former days, when the continental railway was only beginning to dawn 

 on our hopes as a bright vision of the future, we established a "Pony 

 Express" across the Plains, which made the fastest "pony" time on 

 record. I shall never forget the intense thrill of excitement which per- 

 vaded the busy crowds on Montgomery street, as the first pony, with 

 his hatless rider, came dashing at full speed up the street, with dates 

 from St. Louis less than fifteen daj's old. But the "Pony Express" was 

 not enough for us. We needed a daily mail-coach line across the conti- 

 nent; so, one bright afternoon, we heard the coachman's horn sounding 

 its most enlivening notes at the south end of Montgomery street, and, 



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