Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-08-17

would like TO meet that man. Ieu 1t
not in GATH" but in this spot elysian they
have mosquitoes; yes, mosquitoes, every
one as big as dray horse, and they sit in
the branches of the eucalyptus grove and
twitter little love songs to their mates.
At night they come down after the fashion
of the Assyrian, their cohorts all cleaning
with murder and gall, and with the per-
sistency of the Salvation Army. And that
is why | want to meet the man above
mentioned.
Off and away stretch the fields of yellow
stubble, which the harvesters have stripped
bare, and they quiver under the heat until
the uninitiated would aver there was a
lake of limpid water but a few miles
ahead. One institution that still four
ishes in the Deserted Village" is the
deestrict skule, and that is alive and up
with the times. The rows of empty seats
speak eloquently for what it was, as the
old darky said of the moon, "befo' the
waw," as the swarms of youngsters that
once buzzed in and out on the wide porch
are reduced to mere handful. The low
rooted white building stands in the same
yard with the grave-yard-yes, there is
some of that left, but not much-and sit
ting inside listening to the little fellows,
one gazes through the open windows, un-
der grove of locust trees, at the monu-
ments that gleam white and dazzling in
the summer sun. These surroundings
might be to the small fry constant re-
minder Of their mortality, like the Egyp.
tian deaths head, but it has lost all its
horrors, and they play marbles and
mumblepeg within its sacred precints as
utterly unmoved as candidate engaged
in telling lie.
A school is school the world over, isn't
it? l thought so when saw class come
forward, eying the visitor, and trying to
get under cover behind each other. Num-
Der one stood up to recite, twlddling with
his suspenders and trying to dig his little
bare toe into the splintery floor. Number
two nursed his brown foot in his lap and,
looking over number ones shoulders, gen.
erously prompted him when he stumped
his tongue on the hard words Number
three famed his sweaty brow with a leaf
of his book and thought of the coming or
deal and the marbles that other boy won
from him at recess. And what is nicer in
this world than sun-burned, barefooted
grimy-6sted little boys? They are the
coming support of our nation, and, aside
from that, they are so bright and original
and sharp, and more generous in their
friendships than most anyone else They
have faults galore, but they also have
traits to be admired.
Back again to Silveyville Gods Acre
has been deprived Of the precious burdens
it neld, and the quiet sleep of but few was
left undisturbed. Some monuments yet
stand over sunken graves, and roses run
riotously over what was once an orderly
mound. Some square palings have sue
cumbed to the destroying influence of wind
and weather and the posts have parted
company each side falling flat and resting
on the ground. Some have been taken in
the arms of the winds in their mad winter
waltzes, turned half off their foundations
and ignominiously dropped again, while
their partner went whirling away with
jeering laugh at its sacriligious work.
Parting the long, thick grass around the
crumbling head-boards, we read names and
dates of far, far back, whose friends are
perhaps across the continent, or
sleeping themselves at the foot of a
worm-eaten board. The winds have broken
marble columns and lain them low, and in
the tops of the few pine trees it soughs and
sings humbly, as though penitent for its
misdeed. The manzanitas and pines have
escaped the destructive ak and are among
the few shrubs that remain of the crop Of
'52 In spring the daisies, blue-bells and
buttercups brighten the lonely place, but
now the hot winds rustic through the dry
and dusty grass.
There is business and hustle now at the
meeting of the four roads, where for SO
many years quietness reigned. At the
gate of the old Silvey inn stands an old,
grotesque cottonwood tree, and its mate on
the other is spindling eucalyptus. A
blue-eyed baby toddles down the path with
one shoe off, and trying to scale the low
gate gets his check apron fastened and
hangs suspended in md air. A China
cook, resplendent in a spotless apron and
glistning queue, comes flying around the
corner with a dish-rag in hand, and in
carressing howl inquiries of the skewered
offender, ''Socksy littee boy, what flaw you
lun away" A. r.. l..