The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1901-08-25
mid BIRDSAND ROSES
PICTURESQUE ABODE OF JOAQUIN
MILLER, 'POET OBJ THE
a SIERRAS."
OVERLOOKED BAY OF FRISCO
Fortunate Investment In Texas Oil
Lands Will Make Old Poet
Rich in Worldly
Goods

poet as owner of oil wells of fabu-
1ous wealth is rara avis indeed but
the wires bring news of the wonderful
tucK-or foresight-of that aged and pic
SLuresque figure Joaquin Cincinnatus
sHeine Miller, whose new home in Tex
as Is described as being built in the
middle Of 700 acres of land, the most
Waluable part Of an "oil belt which Is
giving riches to many who had been
,WCrShlping at the altar of the tickle god
dess Of fortune for long years in vain.
But while Joaquin Miller may have a
richer home than the one he left in
California. he can have no more lovely
abiding place than that perched in the
IoothlIls overlooking the great bay of
San Francisco. It is many years since
the writer visited that spot, but it's birds
and flowers and greenery nnger in tie
memory, even though the spectacular
tours Of the old poet in recent years
have not seemed strictly in keeping with
mis- art. Yet one may well forgive
MILLER who is so deeply imbued with the
spirit of 49 that what may seem spec
tacular to quieter Eastern folk undoubt-
eddy seems to him a very natural mode
of life
It was in May, 1894, or thereabouts.
Would YOU like to meet Joaquin Gin
cinnatus Miller" asked my friend, the
editor. Nothing would please me bet
ter, / replied, and very soon armed with
letter guaranteed to smooth-the way,
was preparing for a descent, or rather
an ascent, TO the stronghold of the
Poet of the Sierras." We-my wife and
left the dusty, trade wind-swert
streets Of San Francisco in the after
noon, and crossing the magnificent bay,
took the train at Oakland Mole for
Fruitvale. ASK anyone at Fruitva'e
and he will tell you the way to Miliers
house" we had been told. Alas for
human famei On leaving the train at the
little suburb we inquired the way of a
yokel who eyed us curiously. Miller.
Miller" he repeated, scratching his
head frantically. why, that must be
Joe Miller as works in the wine fac
tory down there and he pointed hope
fully to a red brick concern that looked
gloomy enough to be a prison. This was
discouraging, but a visit to a real es-
tate offfce-that directory of a country
town-taught US that after taking the
electric car for a mile or more, we
should still have to walk some two
miles farther to reach the poets home.
The walk was indeed a picturesque one.
The road assembled gradually, unfolding
by degrees the whole panorama of Ala
media and Contra Costa clad in living
BI6cIY CAScheu mere anu IueTe WIFI pdlCn-
es of yellow corn. At last, after passing
by orchards whose trees were bent with
fruit, we beheld a little higher up be-
yond us a small white wooden house, built
on terraces. A little Spanish boy who
had guided US the last few rods assured
US that this was the home of Eel Senior
Millar"
1t was not until we drew quite close
that we fully realized the beauty of the
Ii
1t Was a revelation to our Eastern eyes.
So rapt were we in admiration of the
flowers and Greenery that we did not at
first notice a tail, gaunt man, clad in
miners costume, with long hair and
beard who was gazing at US from under
his hands from a terrace near the cot
tage. Having some idea of Millers Pc
culiarities, / FASTENED on ahead to in
trodEce myself. Opening a rustic gate,
I crossed rustic bridge over a miniature
stream which led me beneath Overhang-
ing trees and amid the heavy perfume
of roses to the house. This was built
after the manner of the simple dwellings,
of the country, one story high, very long
painted White with green shades and lit
orally buried in rOsess. Everything was
scrupulOusly clean and an atmosphere of
contentment and repose surrounded the
place.
As I stepped into the open lawn be-
fore the house, I found myself face to
face with as motley a group as ever star
tied the dWeller in great city. Tall,
sineWy and erect, with rough trousers
tucked into high boots. wearing a sili<en
shirt and large SLOUGH hat, his reddish
gray beard failing upon a massive chest
and his reddish gray hair curling upon
his shoulders, Joaquin Miller glared at the
intruder with no sign of welcome upon
his bcOnzed features. AS he regarded me
he nervously moved from one shoulder
to the other a huge black bearsllin. At
his side stooG a no less remarkable per
son in appearance. At first 1 took it for
a man, bat later found it to be a woman
It was in fact a noted Californian horse
woman. She also wore trousers, but thew
Were not tucked into high boots. They
were the conventional stovepipe trousers
a blouse with a belt; a soft round hat
and glasses, spurs on her boots, straps
to the trousers and a riding whip in her
hand, the lady's appearance was whimsi-
cal in the extreme. To complete the
group an aged squaw who had done Mil
ler's household work for years was squat
ted in the doorway, clad in a white cot
ION gown, with a bright red knitted cap
Oh her head.
Mr. Miller?" I said diffdently.
81 am the man." said the poet gruffly,
as I handed him the letter He read it
and Unbent at once. Crumpling the note
IN his hand, Bring your lady in" he
said. in an almost sweet voice, and, doff-
ing his large nat, strobe vigorously to
the gate and with the grace and courtesy
Of a Spanish don escorted my wife into
his grounds.
Come and see my flowers" he added.
We followed him. "Hark!" he cried sud
denly, holding up his hand The familiar
song of canaries reached our ears. We
looked around for the prisoners. Miller
laughed merrily mo, no.. he chuckIed.
MY birds are not in cages. There are no
prisoners here. My canaries are in the
trees aid he pointed out dozens Of the
songsters in the Branches of the nearer
trees. Then he whist1ed peculiarly and
the birds came flying around US They
know me-" he said simply, land come -
me for food. l love birds and flowers"
He led US to a rustic seat on a terrace
in the middle of mis- domain. He spread
his bear robe on the seat, and we sat
down and drank in the scene. Before
US played and gurgled a rustic fountain,
from the basin of which sprang great
Gala lilies in full bloom; around US. on