The herald., 1895-02-24
THE GOOD
OLD DAYS OF ADOBE HUTS
IN LOS ANGELES
How Newspaperman Became a
Witness of rIidnight Scenes
Wherein the rlexiCan
Pioneers Gathered
for Their
Revelry

1.-The old race is dying ont in Los An
geles." said my Mexican caterer as he
served me with Spanish dinner which
he guaranteed to be the real thing and
hot enough, if | could eat it, to make me
fearless of anything denied by Ingersoll
in the hereafter.
What do you mean by the old racer"
| asked.
WELL l mean the people that built Los
Angeles, the people thai built the mis-
sions, the people that held fiestas every
year and who made little money but en-
joyed life. They were the good old stock
descended from the Spanish and the Aztec
They were not a progressive people, not
like the Mexicans of Mexico today. They
had no education to speak of, but after all
they were happy people. Banks were
unknown and mortgages unheard of in
my youthful days. OF course, the town
was adobe, and the advent of gang OF
the boys from the plains was more to us
then than the arrival of Congress on a
special train would be TO the present gen.
eration. We didn't crave money for
moneys sake. All we wanted with money
II
honestly the people then were all happier,
richer and better off in everything than
they are today But times are changed. ;"
So all the old generation are gone, eh?
How about their descendants?" said the
scribe.
when l say all the old people or the
old crowd have disappeared, am mis-
ta akan ~ saiI tho ,rriuzIa1 tar sIn
another dish just tritie hotter than those
already served before me.
what 1 should have said &" he resumed,
after l had recovered my breath from
swallowing a forkful of the latest COM
pound, was that there are only a few of
us left. Come down some night and I'll
show you real old fashioned time out in
the old adobe just back of this rickety,
modern two-penny frame shanty."
How about tonight. No time like the
present, answered.
''All right. Stay with us. Do you
speak Spansh?' mol" well, my g.
year-old girl who goes to school here, will
chaperon you. 1t will be no grand affair
but | think you will enjoy it,"
And l did 1t was perhaps o O'Clock
before the people began to arrive. First
came lot of stalwart strapping Mexican
boys, some of whom | recognized as hav-
ing been in the common overalls and
flannel shirt, none too clean, but all too
plentiful, as the dress of our laborers in
certain quarters of the town. But these
same boys were transformed, as it were.
They wore slashed trousers with many
buttons sashes about their waists; real
Mexican Sombreros on their heads, while
their feet were incased in shining boots,
with heels two inches in height. While
they were lounging around the bar, drink
ing American beer and whiskey, with
just now and then call for the old-time
mescal, l noticed hooded and cloaked
ladies, young, Judging from their move
ments, and followed by old women, pass
the door of the room in which | sat, and
go back to the adobe. They were girls you
seldom, if ever, see upon the streets and
their chaperons watched them as a cat
watches mouse.
Suddenly the sidewalk light was extin-
guished, the street doors locked and the
crowd in the bar wended their way toward
oiiS piNi huobS' lhO Sidiloto oliOU III my
direction were more of questioning ma.
ture than indicating hostility, and my
host soon set matters right by introduce
ing me, just how l don't know, for he
spoke Spanish, to the company. 1 sat in
post of honor, among the duenas, each
of whom had pretty girl in charge. The
ball room was lighted with three smoky
lamps, and the music was two guitars
and mandolin, but it was sweet and
tuneful to the ear and in excellent time.
Then the dance started. AT the inau-
gural ball of Governor Budd not half the
ceremony was displayed that was shown
by the be-sashed and be-buttoned gal
lants when they came to ask for
one OF the bright-eyed girls for
dance.