The Sierra citizen., 1854-10-14
A Sketch-BY J. P. ANTHONY.

couple OF miles from our young city, after
a ramble over the hills, is favorite rest
ing place of mine. The house is situate
some fifty PAGES from the public road
having foreground Of oak trees, which
as well as imparting to it a somewhat pic
turesque appearance, afford an agreeable
shade from noon-tide sum- Into the in
terror of the inn | never passed but once
a visit occasioned by the sudden descent
of a driving shower, which, deluging my
favorite seat in the porch, compelled me
to seek shelter within.
1t was then made the acquaintance Of
my hostess's little girl, who, her first shy
ness overcome, amused me with her prat-
tie, and we became fast friends.
During the summer l became not un-
frequent visitor; and if / err not the
bright, joyous expression of my little pets
black eyes, as approached the house,
was not attributable to the paper of
sweets which she ever knew was slowed
away for her in my jacket pocket. The
little sprite-when l compared her to the
man and woman who kept the house, with
their everyday faces / could not but re-
gard as another Udine; half expecting, on
each of my visits, to find she had vanished.
With that of host, the father of little
black-eyes followed the occupation of a
carpenter, whilst his wife appeared to
share the duty of attending TO the pigs
and concoctiug milk punches for the pab-
lie; the latter division of labor, however
seemed to be but of very limited extent,
as besides ourselves We but rarely saw
another customer. True, our visits were
never made on that day, which, as the
song has it, comes 'twixt Saturday and
Monday, and which, in gossip with mine
host on the subject Of the business of the
inn, he once informed me was their busiest
day. But to the subject which suggested
our sbetch:-
On one of our finest days Of Spring
the weather that peculiarly Californian,
when the temperature is the happy medi-
um, the sunbeams gaily bright, and the
atmosphere clear and exhilarating, after
a ramble over the hills away by the sea-
shore where the Golden Gate appears like
the opening to another world was sit
ing in the porch of the roadside Inn: en-
joyng cigar and a reverie, when my
attention was attracted to the figure Of an
cid man approaching from the road.
He drew up on reaching the porch, and
with one hand resting on stick with an
air of feebleness, with the other he held a
basket containing fruit, which he offered
for sale the appearance of my child-com-
panion, who was sitting on little chair
at my feet, absorbed in the pages Of pic
ture book, which had that day given her,
evidently suggesting to the old man the
probability of my becoming purchaser.
Following the offer of his fruit, proposed
terms to little fairy, which were readily
accepted; and in return for kiss and the
repetition of the two first stanzas Of "But-
terfy Ball. which / had so far taught
her. and which to hear her repeat was
worth pilgrimage-a goodly portion OF
the old mans basket became her property,
the same being forthwith transmitted to
mammals care and the cupboard.
Whist this purchase was being effected
/ was much struck by the appearance Of
the fruit yender. There was something
venerable about him. as well as that mel
ancholy in his countenance which seems
ever to characterize old age when the
features are in a state Of repose-the
! shadow creeping sunset of human life.
He was seventy years of age, if he was
day; his gray hairs in long locks fell
over his bony temples and sunken checks
vet was there in his clear, bright eye an
expression of unlmpalred mental vigor
whilst his figure, though spare and hum
bly clad, impressed you with something
akin to dignity. You might have ina
gined he had stepped out of some story
book the allegorical representative OF ole
Time, or that he was Shakspeare's Ole
Adam, whose age was frosty but kindly
who never did apply hot and rebelllous
liquors to the blood. But this is no fancy
sketch, and candor eompels me to add
that the fruitseller was, of that abstemiou:
scnooi' no disciple. In acceptance of my
my invitation, lie sat on the bench beside
me-told me the history of his hfe--tbt