Terms, Five Dollars a Year. 
Ten Cents a Copy. 
NEW YORK, THURSDAY. JUNE 22, 1876 
Volume 6, Number 20. 
IT Chatham Si.(CityHallBur.) 
Selected. 
AN ANGLER’S FIRST DAY OUT. 
T HE wild winds o’ winter hae ceased a’ their moanin’, 
The bleak, cheerless season o’ winter has passed; 
Nae malr the bare bough o’ the forest are groanin', 
When rent by the force o’ the load roarin’ blast. 
There are buds on the trees, there are flowers by the river, 
The lammiee arc gambolin’ on the green lea; 
And a’ thing is fcelm’ the freshness lhat stealm’ 
On meadows and upland, on floweret and tree. 
The burnie that rnshed tae the sea, as in anger, 
When the snaws o’ the winter came down from the hill, 
Ib fechtin’ and boilin’, and splashin' nae ianger, 
Bat murmurin' peaccfnly, like its ain sel; 
An d the trooties are loupini that must be the reason 
Why Tom is sae joyfu’—my cronies aae dear. 
We’re gmin tae the flshln', audilk ane is wishin’ 
Tae catch the first troot, just tae hansel the year. 
Ah I as we walkdoon through the woodland together, 
What mem Vries are crowdin’ o' years gane awa, 
O’ days by the stream, on tho lake, and the river, 
Or on bonnie Loch Levon, tho pride ’o them a'; 
And we set onrsels doon where the primrose and gowan 
Are spanglin’ the sward, mang the whin and the broom; 
While zephyrs are wreathen' the ripple and breathin’ 
The fragrance they’re gath’rin from bud and from bloom. 
“Seel here’s my nuld wasp—d’ye mind when I caught him ? 
You braw sauinon troot just below the mill-dam; 
Anil here's the same flee that was killin' last antnmn, 
When naething elee would. Are ye listenin', Tam? 
When doon by that pool wi* the birk trees ourecliangin’, 
I hookit a big—weel, ye’ve aye had yer doot. 
He flew past the rushes, my line caught the bushes, 
'Twas yon knot on the gut, tho, that lost me the troot.” 
“Ye’re ready. Ah! weel, I will try a black heckle. 
Tosh, see how they're lonpin below the saugh tree; 
A drake wing, a hare lng, they'll surely be fickle, 
If they wanna bo takin’ wi’ ane o’ the three!” 
Now lightly the casts skim the rippling water. 
Under bunks, under branches, warily thrown; 
Till astrikel the line's pnklt, a two pounder’s hookit, 
And the reol’s thrillin’ mnsic proclaims he is onl” 
Let sportsmen delight in the pleasure o' killin' 
The wild wkirrin paitrlcks and grouse by the brace, 
The packs “deep-mouthed music" wi’ joy may be thrillin’, 
The hearts bold and eager that joined in the chase; 
Dive me the brief moments o’ blisstnl excitement. 
When the strong “lusty trout" struggles bravely and hard, 
i Bounding fleet as the swallow, through deep and through shallow, 
Till in fairest proportions he’s stretched on the sward. 
The main wha thinks naething bnt what he himself says 
Can ever be richt, and a’ body's wrang. 
The saints, that are saints because naebody else is, 
1 Come muse by the river and hear the birds sang; 
Come, hearts discontented wi' fortune’s reverses, 
Come minds doll and wearied wi’ meaningless prate, 
If flshin’ no enres ye o’ this it assures ye 
That naething on earth will alter yoar state. 
JW Forest and Stream. 
Bh i n S°nthm\ §Hlifomin , 
B Y this date you will Rave received, and I hope not 
quite forgotten, the long letter from Santa Barbara. 
It waa an attempt to let you know how and what we do in 
California. No place has put this lovely land-locked nook 
out of our mind. We do not expect to come either again, 
hut should we do the Overland Journey, for the purpose of 
wintering on the Pacific Slope, nem. con. the vote is given 
for our dear old Arlington, in case we should not be lucky 
enough to find a cot lage. Even then, we should do oar din¬ 
ing there. It gives one so many privileges, in its long 
piazzas, cozy drawing room, reading room, &c. The one 
great drawback is the tremendous distance between the 
two oceans. 
I I took a fourteen mile drive to see Col. H.’s ranch of 
3,000 acres, famous for its proprietor, who sold wool 
enough, last year, to net $110,000. The place I visited has 
nothing to with sheep. The Colonel has a plantation of 
sweet (Languedoc) soft shelled almond trees in hearing; 
1 what that means yon can calculate, when I tell you that he has 
thirty thousand amandiera, and that they are, or soon will 
he, worth ahalf gold eagle per tree. The nuts we get at Los 
Angelos were very hard shelled, and not half as large as 
those produced on Col. H.’s place, very little larger than a 
filbert. They fetch ten cents per two pounds in market, 
whilst the Lauguedoc are worth thirty-five cents. Some 
old trees of the latter yield thirty dollars worth a year. They 
are sure for a crop; perhaps owing to their being budded 
on peach stocks. The other kind is grown as seedliDgs 
and fails, two out of five seasons. Col. H. has 10,000 
peach, pear, and apricot trees, not to mention orange, 
lemon, citron, lime, guava, &c. 
Dr. W. has a 1,200 acre ranch, on which he has 5,000 
young almond trees, some of which are bearing finely. His 
place is a lovely valley, in which are seventy odd acres of 
level land, entirely shut in by the coast range of mountains 
and by high hills, except in the West, where it opens to 
the ocean, by a beautiful view, stretching across to the 
island of Santa Cruz, one of the great sheep raising dis¬ 
tricts, two miles away. Miss W. showed me where a thou¬ 
sand chickens roost every night; their eggs meet with ready 
sale in the next town. Her sister is a great botanist. In 
this land of flowers and vegetable wonders, she has ample 
resources for gratifying her amiable weakness. My jour¬ 
ney would be made much more pleasant and profitable had 
I her knowledge of the names and properties of the vege¬ 
table productions I see in such endless profusion. 
During my stay in Santa Barbara I read Dana’s “Two 
years before the Mast.” It is of greatly increased interest, 
when perused in the midst of scenes so well and truthfully 
described. In the edition I chanced to get from the Odd 
Fellows Library, he describes the marvellous change that 
had come over San Francisco, between his first and last 
visits. Of Santa Barbara, he had very little new to remark. 
Five years have completely transformed it. It is almost 
completely Americanized, has multiplied its population 
manyfold, is an active business place and boasts, I suspect, 
the only very good hotel out of Frisco. I saw a piece of 
land which could have been bought for $5,000 three years 
ago; $37,000 was refused for it, just before we reached the 
place. Wealth is pouring in, and with it, people of culti¬ 
vated mind aud good taste, who wish to inhabit this 
“Loafer’s Paradise,” where every prospect pleases and 
man can scarce he vile. I am sure there is not such an¬ 
other dolcefar niente spot in all Uncle Sam's dominions. If 
H. had been ordered here, six years ago, to build a depot, 
he might now have been rolling in luxury, behind a pair of 
horses of quality, along the beautiful Barbarian beach, 
which extends a mile to the east of the steamboat wharf. 
Its bathing advantages, equal to those of Newport or of 
Narragansett, are just now being enjoyed by the Califor¬ 
nians. Of fishing, there is no end, in tbe channel formed 
by tbe island. Our days were so taken up with sight-see! ag 
that we did not angle. 
When Monday morning ushered in May day, we went 
down to an early breakfast, to he in readiness for our am¬ 
bulance and its two powerful horses, driven by a small 
Teutonic Santa Barbara man. He is a little, wizened, 
wrinkled, ruset-appled fellow of great intelligence, and an 
unsurpassable handler of the ribbons. Tbe man who 
drove us up from Los Angeles was without consideration 
for peoples hack-hones, such fearful bumps and thumps 
did he subject them to, in crossing gullies orrougb ground. 
Our first station was fourteen mileB from tbe Arlington. 
To reach it we took four hours, nor was this surprising, 
when we looked back from the summit of San Marcos 
Mountains, (one of the coast range) up the 1,800 feet we 
had just climbed. Henry and Brown—Charley's two 
steeds—made a superb pull. At some places, we went 
over solid stone, cut into parallel transverse groves and 
having an angle of 45°. Usually we walked, partly to en¬ 
joy the beautiful landscape, and partly to give our team 
300 pounds less weight to pull. It is habitually foggy. 
aloDg the coaBt, at this season. Monday furnished no ex¬ 
ception to the general rule. We missed much of the coast 
I view, but enjoyed that of the beautiful ranches which lay 
spread so far beneath ub. 
At the summit “Pat’s” stage station is the place at which 
the tired horses are permitted to rest whilst the traveler 
partaketh of refreshment. That same was stewed chicken, 
(and Charley says they always have it). Our fowl must 
have been that celebrated chicken that crowed in the morn 
to wake the maiden all forlorn. J. fell back against the 
breastwork engaged by her attacking knife ami fork. She 
could make no impression on it. S. had au upper joint, 
hut it was “one too many for her.” I went lower down 
and being musically disposed, did essay a drumstick. 
Nothing but dynamite could have ever made an impression 
on it. I am sure that by judicioul rfichauffage, that dish 
could he made to do duty on Pat’s table, for tbe next year. 
Many travelers pass the night at P-’s, in order to break 
the next dav,s journey better and to have the morning 
view from the San Marcos summit. Had we done so, 
many of M.’s horrors—the flat patterns would have been 
found in possession of the beds, and the fog would have 
rendered Hie view an impossibility. 
lti descending the north side of the coast range, we 
found a densely wooded country, containing numberless 
crystal springs crossing our road, on tbeir way to help 
form the Santa Ynez River. This flows by the foot of a 
mountain range hearing the same name. 1 won’t attempt 
to tell you wiiat superb scenery we beheld, as we looked 
East and North. Without words spokeu to an intelligent 
ear and a little pictorial help, I could give you no idea of 
how rarely the giaud and tho beautiful were united in the 
panorama spread before our enchanted eyes- Some day I 
may try to tell you what I feel myself utterly powerless to 
write. By Monday evening, a little while before the sun 
disappeared, we readied Ballard’s station, forty-five miles 
from the Arlington. It iB a place like Deyton’s, described 
in my last letter to G., at which the mail stage changes 
horses. It was not inviting, but we were of the begging, 
not of the choosing class, aud" made the best of it. The 
cook and waiter was a Chinaman named Charley, who grin¬ 
ned, laughed, welcomed us, in fine English, and almost of¬ 
fered to shake hands with me. His name and memory 
are eudeared to us by reason of the bread he had made for 
supper. All four pronounced it the best we had eaten in 
California and scarcely inferior to the best batches we had 
even seen turned out in Paris or Vienna. 
In coming down the mountain I was invited to ride 
with a chat ty old Californian, who had stopped to lunch 
with us, at Pat's. He drove an uncommonly flue pair of 
blacks, to a stout road wagon. His history was interesting 
and romantic, as that of so many of the old settlers seems 
to be. Many years ago, he came out to Callao, with coal 
for use of Pacific Mail Stoamship Co. After delivering 
his cargo, the vessel was found to he so damaged as to re¬ 
quire very expensive repairs. No adequate amount could 
be borrowed on the ship’s security, nor was it possible to 
have tho work properly done. He waited until the port 
charges and other expenses ate him, up, when he found him. 
self obliged to carry coal, in sacs, for a living. He went 
. i Ban Francisco and got command of a rickety old steamer, 
and worked on her until he cleared enough money to go 
into the distillation and rectifying of petroleum. Succeed¬ 
ing very fairly in this, he was burnt out one night, escap¬ 
ing only with a linen coat and plenty of pluck. In one 
way or another he drifted down the coast, where he 
bought (I think he married) a widow, with a 50,000 acre 
ranch. In the course of time he has grown very well off, 
by means of sheep, cattle, and grain. At tho present he is 
considered a very rich man. His father was a captain in 
Hie English Navy, and he would have also entered the 
same service, had it not been for deafness of an incurable 
kind. I found him unusually intelligent and agreeable in 
conversation. Like most of tbe ranchers, be was never 
weary in extolling the unapproachably superiority of Cali¬ 
fornia, to all other countries. Now, Captain, there must 
be some drawback to your life. It is too good to be wholly 
true as you describe it, said I. "Wait a bit, I’ll tell you 
something. In 1864 there commenced a drought which 
( lasted twelve months and .twenty-seven days. In all this 
time, not one drop ci water fell on the earth, where I 
lived. I lost over 5,000 sheep, and .nearly all my cattle, 
