SACRAMENTO CITY. 
131 
gambling houses, theatres, &c. The gambling and eating-houses 
were thronged, and appeared to be doing all the business of the 
town. Monte-banks were even opened under tents, the patrons 
standing up to their knees in mud. The Round Tent contained 
eight tables, each letting for eight dollars per day. These, to¬ 
gether with the profits of the bar, paid Mr. Weeks, the pro¬ 
prietor, at least $100 per day—a fair income for a tent, particu¬ 
larly one in which a man needs an umbrella and a pair of India 
rubber boots. The rain did not dampen the ardor of the opera¬ 
tors, but caused them to treat more frequently, which gave them 
more ready access to their victims. 
Here were gray-haired men commingling with boys in the 
game—profanity and dissipation—some of them having passed, 
perhaps, within the last twenty-four hours, from a competence 
to penury. A gloom seemed to pervade the countenance, re¬ 
vealing the reckless despondence that reigned within. 
How truthfully were their feelings portrayed in the gloom of 
the surrounding elements. Here were young men, who, a few 
months previous, had left their friends and homes with vigorous 
constitutions, and characters unblemished, to seek their fortunes 
in this land of gold. A few short months had sufficed to 
accomplish the work of ruin. In an unguarded moment they 
were tempted from the path of rectitude; they visited the gam¬ 
ing-tables and halls of dissipation; and when the brief dream 
was over, they awoke and found ruin, like a demon, staring 
them in the face. They had neither means nor character, and 
their constitutions had been laid waste by the blighting hand 
of dissipation. Who can calculate the hours of anguish, or tears 
of blood that have been wrung from the hearts of bereaved 
parents and friends by that blighting curse. 
Sacramento had become a large city (see Plate), and, next to 
San Francisco, the most important town in the State. It num¬ 
bered at this time from twelve to fifteen thousand inhabitants. 
The town is regularly laid out, the streets running at right 
angles, many of which are closely built upon for the distance 
of a mile. The margin of the river is bold, and vessels of the 
largest class are moored to its banks. Some of them, are used 
as stores, others as dwelling or boarding places. The steamer 
Senator runs up to the bank and puts out a gang-plank, which 
