The record-union., 1891-08-29
NO PLACE LIKE HOME.
Our "Backw0odS Belle" After an
Outing.
The Story of the Sumrnering at Bodesa
Tho Cause of the Tramp's Grief
Beauties of Freestone-Back to the
Quiet City Life.

! Especial correspondence of REcoRD-U UNION
Over in the land where the sun sets in
the east and brooklets run up hill;
where the speclkled, scuttling crab sings
his merry little lay through all the peace
ful days, far from the haunts of man, YOU
will awake from your dreaming with a
longing to know what the great, big. hur-
rying world is doing in your absence.
Going for the mail is in order, and these
! once-ln-a-while excursions are additional
INKS in the rosy chain that fetters you 10
happiness. 1t needs no demands on the
| powers Of memory to recall an old buck
board with only half the regulation num-
Der of spokes in each wheel, and the seat
tied to the body with a furlong of bale
rope. Our host said it originally belonged
to Kit Carson and was sold by him to the
Bonner party, who-but when I began
looking for the row-locks. thinking Co
| lumbus had used it for small boat, he
! digressed. With what avidity will you
| seize the weekly papers And letters,
| like the half-rem embered pressure of q
distant hand, the memory of an absent
| face, are devOured with equal greed. That
| venerable ''shay," like the street car, al
ways had ''rOom for one more" There
| were girls hanging on all get-at-able
| points of the unseaworthy concern, and
| as RoZlnante went prowling along,
! wholly unguided, nibbling the wild flow
ers at the roadside, the go-cart had the
| appearance of a ship under full sail, so
many sheets of fluttering foolscap were
! there unfurled, and while the hatless
| heads were deep in their perusal, silence
| reigned supreme-but for an interval
only. Each time the aged barouche
ctn tod lSNf
the little blue-eyed woman at the gate
| kissed each in turn, never, alas, expect
| ing to see the outfit return intact and
! alive.
The old fort on Bodega Bay, built in
| 1852, yet remains in good condition. The
| bOwling-alley has done duty as a chicken
| house and green mold covers the lower
parts of the walls, but it looks substan-
| tial enough to stand many years yet. 4
| little schOOlma' am trains the minds of
the coast youth in little schoolhouse
| built on stills, and while explaining some
| knotty problems TO a row OF little bright
eyed Indian scholars one day, she closed
| the argument by inquiring in vernacular
| foreign to the ears of the children of the
| forest, ''YOu sabbe?'
n lover of curiOs might add a valuable
| acquisition to his stock while on the bay,
and that is a collection of bullet-hoIes.
Around each one thrilling narrative
| could be wound. For they abound in
great plenty in ceilings and door panels.
where some excited coaster preferred to
| explain with a shotgun rather than rally
with words, idle words. They have a
soothing, quieting effect on One-inas-
| much as you will ever be ready to please,
to escape the possibility OF having your
mortal coil perforated with slugs and
buckshot.
Freestone is an embryo city which
clings on SOnoma soil, barnacle-like, and
which awaits future greatness. 1t is stu
ated in the most delightful and fruitful
part OF the county. 1t does not boast
electric railways, a baseball nine, nor
even fight with water company, which
all cities with an iota of enterprise should
have. These things will all come in good
time, however. There are three hotels.
and to the traveller it would seem at first
glance that the town is swallowed up in
hotels, for the proportion of residences is
small. We drove into town in state, and
approaching some small boys who were
tattooing an opera on coal-oil can with
railroad spike, asked one how many
hotels there were in town.
Three" said he, tucking his head
down bashtully and suspending the baton
in midair.
(which one is the best. SOM" He
jerked his thumb over his shoulder in
the direction of the nearest and said,
He was glorious specimen of Ameri-
cas- barefoot nobility, with one suspender,
a check shirt, blue overalIs, and "buu-
skim hat. You may wonder what that
style of head-gear is, and yet you have
seen scores upon scores of them. They
are Identical with the barefoot boy. 1t is
part Of his kingdom, tits the last article
of clothing he hangs on the floor at night
when he stumbleS through his prayers
and crawls into his trundle bed; and il is
the first thing he dons in the morning
when the birds and sunlight flood his
window with music and light. 1t is his
wool hat, that, having done duty IN all
stages, from Sunday best to second best,
now is surrendered to everyday wear. It
is without band, or binding, or lining, or
price. 1t grows more peaked and greasy
with each ''yank" that adjusts it over his
busy little brain, until it assumes the
proportions Of funnel or an inverted
balloon, 1t serves as a butterfly net, a
depository for birds eggs, pilfered green
apples, shells, young rabbits, football, a
reservoir for tadpoles, a flower fruit,
bread and butter and jam basket. his kit
tens plaything, his favorite pups bed,
his drinking cup, his big sisters 6ete 2aoir,
and his own boon companion and chief
delight.
Freestone hotels may not be or a par
with the Palmer House and our own
first-claSs caravansaries, but they have
the happy faculty Of smoothing the
rough places out of the tired guests DAYS.
By the dim religious splutter of candle
you follow your guide up the wide and
polished stairs into an apartment where
the whiteSt linen and cleanest cleanliness
abound. There is a window fashioned
after those of the cathedrals, and through
the diamond panes a feeble light creeps.
Leaning from the easement one is con-
fronted by very steep hill, all clothed
in spruces and rank vines. The little
city sleeps the sleep of tho just. All that
stirs the air is the bark of a hound in
the distant hills and the tinkIe of
sleeps bell. The tempered moonlight
fell softly as benedictiOn, for
y wan moon hung on ragged sky,
brooch in a beggar's breast.
The North Pacific Coast Narrow-gauge
Railway runs through Freestone 1t is
one of those cunning little trains that
you desire to stow away III your pocket
when the company is not looking. 1t
runs up into the redwoodS to Cazadero,
and is said to be laid through magnifi-
cent scenery. The little depot, with it's
white trimmings, cannot but remind one
| of having on white cuffs and collar. But
although this train is no bigger
| than haf-grOwn crab apple,
its officials deal with the travelling public
with the same appalling authority that
| characterizes the full-grown roads. I
saw the train stop one day about fifty
yards from the depot and eject tramp.
| First the good-looking conductor dumped
the old fellows carpet bag and gunny
sack of effects down the embankment
unceremoniously, then the seedy owner
| followed. The immaculate conductor
wiped his hands on his snowy linen
handkerchief, aided by the light of the
| aurora borealis on his shirt-front, and the
| load of tourists sped on it's way The