San Francisco History

Seventy-five Years in San Francisco


The ship Courier arrived at Monterey from Boston on the 3rd of July, 1826, Captain Cunningham master and supercargo, and traded on the coast, collecting hides and tallow. Thomas Shaw, who came out from Boston in the vessel as a carpenter, after her arrival was made clerk and assistant supercargo. He was supercargo of the Lagoda when she was here in 1835, and also of the Monsoon, which arrived here in 1839. George Vincent was second mate of the Courier, and commanded the Monsoon in 1839. He also commanded the ship Sterling, which left Boston in October, 1843, and arrived here early in 1844. She was consigned to Thomas B. Park. Henry Richardson came out on this trip from Boston as clerk of the vessel, and died here of typhoid fever. He was a young man of great promise and his death was much lamented by those who knew him. Captain Vincent also commanded the brig Sabine, which left Boston in the early part of 1848, arriving here in the midst of the gold excitement. Holbrook was owner and supercargo.

The ship Monsoon was lying in the harbor, in 1839, and Sutter left from alongside for the Sacramento Valley with the schooners Isabella and Nicolás and his own four-oared boats, as previously described just prior to our leaving, the whole company was invited on board the ship for a little farewell entertainment. We were handsomely treated; toasts were given, amid a pleasant time enjoyed. As the visitors left the vessel to embark on their expedition they were followed by friendly expressions and the best wishes of Captain Vincent, his officers and crew. After 1848 the captain continued to reside in San Francisco, and made one or two trips to Mexico to purchase goods. In 1850 I had my office in the brick building at the northwest corner of Sacramento and Montgomery streets, on the second floor, where Captain Vincent also had an office and kept his valuables. The second story was reached by a flight of stairs from an alley that connected with Montgomery Street. While the great fire of May, 1851, was raging, the captain rushed up to the office to secure his property, and in returning was caught by the fire at the foot of the stairs in the alley, and there perished, his body being nearly consumed to ashes.

In 1837, Thomas B. Park came out in the ship Alert from Boston in the capacity of assistant supercargo. On Robinson’s return to Boston in the same year, in the ship California, Park took his place as agent, and remained here ten or twelve years, and up to his death. He was an educated merchant and gentleman. Though not liking the rough travel of a new country and the rambling kind of trade peculiar to California, where a good deal of push and energy were required, but preferring much to be in his own office attending to his correspondence, with bookkeeper and clerks at hand whom he could direct in the business, still he was willing to adapt himself to the circumstances and did travel about to secure his trade; sought out his customers and followed them up, sold his goods, and filled his vessels with hides. But he consumed more time than others, not moving actively nor pushing the business very vigorously.

There was a great deal of competition in the early days in the selling of goods from vessels, particularly at Yerba Buena, which was a distributing point. Whenever there were two or more vessels here at a time, the supercargoes were very active in getting round in their boats, up the creeks, or, with their horses and vaqueros, to various points about the bay in order to be first at the different ranchos and missions, to sell goods and collect hides and tallow. The rancheros preferred to buy from the vessel rather than from the local stores, for the reason that they then got supplies at first hand and, as they thought, to better advantage.

Henry Mellus came to the coast in the brig Pilgrim, before the mast, in 1834, Frank Thompson captain. The vessel was consigned to Alfred Robinson. When the brig arrived, the ship Alert, Captain E. H. Faucon, was here, Alfred Robinson agent and supercargo. He transferred Mellus from the vessel and employed him as clerk. Most of the Boston ships in those days had on board three or four boys of good families who were sent here to get a little experience and learn something of nautical life. Mellus was one of them. The Pilgrim, a smaller vessel than the others belonging to the same owners, was sent as a tender to assist them at rancho landings, such as at the Refugio and other points distant from the regular ports, and to deliver goods and receive hides and tallow.

Robinson was thorough and systematic in all mercantile matters—a man of good commercial schooling. He had a great dislike for the Alert’s captain, Faucon, and also for John H. Everett, the clerk of the vessel, who certainly were very disagreeable.

In order to get them away from the coast as quickly as possible, Robinson loaded the Pilgrim rapidly, transferred Faucon and Everett, and dispatched them, with the brig, home.

In 1837 Mellus returned to Boston with Robinson in the ship California, the agency being left in charge of Park. Returning in 1839 as assistant supercargo of the California, Mellus for a time cooperated with Park in the agency, and showed great aptness for business, becoming a successful merchant in San Francisco. He was not so demonstrative and unreserved as Howard, but said very little, and that little to the point. Though unostentatious, he was always pleasant and agreeable, and magnetic in manner. An excellent manager, he planned everything carefully beforehand, and all the details of his business were executed without jar or confusion. Everything moved smoothly, just as designed, and came to a successful issue. He kept his plans to himself. When he sent off his boats from the vessel’s side, no one unconnected with the vessel knew their destinations and no advantage could be taken by competitors. In 1846 he married Anita Johnson, the daughter of an Englishman who had married a Mexican lady from Sonora. Anita was born in Los Angeles. She was pretty and attractive. A number of children followed the marriage. After relinquishing the agency for Bryant & Sturgis in 1848, Mellus went to Boston with his family on a visit. He returned to this coast in the winter of 1849-50, at which time he had an attack of apoplexy. He partially recovered, but never was the Henry Mellus of former days. H. F. Teschemacher and he were close friends, and he was also on the same friendly terms with Alfred Robinson.

Mellus’ family lived at Los Angeles after his marriage. On one occasion a grand party took place there, at which were present Mr. and Mrs. Mellus Teschemacher, and other company, among whom was a young officer of the U. S. Army named Bonnycastle. During the dancing, Mrs. Mellus and Bonnycastle happened to be in the same set, and at this time the army officer was grossly guilty of the impropriety of pressing the lady’s hand ardently. She immediately left the room, feeling much aggrieved, and informed her husband of what had occurred. The result was a challenge from Mellus to Bonnycastle, which was accepted. The latter, having the choice of weapons, selected rifles at forty paces.

On the morning appointed for the meeting Mellus was reclining on a lounge in his house, very uneasy, and much excited at the prospect before him. Being of a very sensitive nature, the contemplated duel was quite contrary to his inclinations and tastes. He looked forward to it with forebodings which he could not control. A friend much attached to him—Teschemacher—came into the room and, seeing his nervous condition, proposed a compromise, urging that since he was a respectable man of family, with a good many duties, whereas his adversary was a single man, the risks would be much less with the latter. He proposed to take Mellus’ place as a principal in the duel, and insisted upon it so strongly that Mellus finally yielded and allowed him to do so. The parties met and fired, Bonnycastle being wounded in the hand. A ring on one of his fingers was hit by the bullet and carried away, and the finger shattered. Thus the duel terminated.

Up to the time of the attack of apoplexy, Mellus was known as a man of remarkably strong mind, with head always clear; but afterward it was evident that his intellect was somewhat impaired, although his conversation was rational and intelligent. I remember meeting him at San Diego in 1850, whither he had gone for his health. He frequently came to the house where my wife and I were staying, and he seemed solicitous about his diet, saying that he dared not imbibe wines of any kind, having to be very careful of himself.

The action on the part of Mellus, in relation to Howard, created a feeling against him in San Francisco and on the coast among those who had known them here in the former days, and he became quite unpopular; but I did not join in the outcry against him. My regard for him remained undiminished.

After he had retired from Mellus, Howard & Co., his brother Frank went into the concern as partner, and the style of the firm became Howard, Mellus & Co. Frank shortly after withdrew; the firm name was changed to Howard & Green, and so continued to the time the partnership was dissolved by the exposure of Green and his departure from the city.


Referring again to the competition among the early merchants, I recollect some instances of pretty sharp practice in the collection of hides and tallow. Merchants trusted the rancheros largely for the goods they sold them, and the indebtedness was paid after cattle were killed. The ranchero, being more or less in debt at all times, would promise a merchant to supply him with a certain quantity of hides and tallow at a stipulated time; but shortly before the specified date the ranchero would be called upon by another merchant to whom he was likewise indebted for goods, and who was also anxious to secure hides and tallow, on account of what was owing to him, and also to make up a cargo for shipment. By persistent efforts and persuasion he would so work upon the ranchero—who was good-natured and obliging, and desirous of accommodating all his friends, as far as he was able—as to secure for himself a large part of the hides and tallow which had been promised to the first one, and carry them off triumphantly, somewhat to the chagrin and discomfiture of the merchant who had the first contract, who, coming shortly afterward, would find that his competitor had got ahead of him. The ranchero would then make the best of it, explaining that he could not resist the importunities of the other, and had been obliged to let the hides and tallow go to the first arrival. To make good his original promise, he would let the second comer have the hides and tallow remaining, and would collect everything about the place that could be made available, even frequently ordering more cattle to be slaughtered, the hides taken off, and some tallow melted out forthwith.

When this happened, hides were often taken in a green state, and staked out and dried by the merchants at Yerba Buena. I have frequently had them spread, by stakes, at the vacant space by the waterside between Washington and California streets, which was then a meadow covered with short green grass. I have also seen them hung up thickly on ropes stretched over the decks of vessels, the same way the clothes of the crew of a man-of-war are hung in the rigging to dry. The tallow in a very soft state was sometimes taken on the vessel—before it had cooled and hardened, after having been put into the bags.

It was impossible for the rancheros to pay all the merchants at once, as it required time to kill a large number of cattle and prepare the hides and tallow. The merchant who reached the rancho first generally had the best bargain, though in the course of time the others usually got their share.

In 1841 a ranchero had promised to deliver to me a quantity of hides and tallow on a certain day. I went at the time specified to the ranch landing with the schooner Isabella, expecting a full load, but I found that Henry Mellus had preceded me the day before with one of his schooners and had secured nearly the entire stock. Upon my appearing, the ranchero and his sons expressed a good deal of concern and many regrets. They went to work and collected all the dry hides they could find on the place, had a lot of bulls slaughtered immediately, and the hides taken off, and some of the matanza tallow tried out, so that before I left I made up nearly a schoonerload. Thus cutting under and getting the first grab was common, and well understood among the merchants; but it never caused any ill feeling, as it was considered perfectly fair. They joked and laughed about it among themselves, and it was not thought that any injury was done or unfair advantage taken. The quickest, most enterprising and industrious, it was conceded, should be the winners. The last man might be the first on some other occasion. There was never any disagreement or hard feeling, or quarrel of any kind, or even a coolness where two merchants would not speak to each other. At all times they were on the most friendly footing; entire good feeling prevailed. Of various nationalities—American, French, English, Scotch, German and Spanish, as a class they were intelligent, high-minded and honorable.

Mr. Frank Mellus, a younger brother of Henry, came from Boston in 1840 in the Alert and was employed as clerk and educated by Henry in business. On his arrival he was green-looking and bashful, and he always retained boyish appearance and bearing. He failed to command that respect and deference which was felt towards his brother. He was a good fellow, however, though impulsive and easily excited, and proved to be quite smart and efficient. The Californians gave him the nickname of “Fulminante” (percussion cap), by reason of his excitability. He married Adelaida Johnson, a sister of Henry’s wife, a very handsome and vivacious young lady. George Mellus, another brother, came to the coast in 1849.

In 1850 a beautiful bark of several hundred tons, the Arcadia, William D. Phelps master, owned by Henry Mellus, Don Alfredo Robinson, and Abel Stearns, arrived from Boston with a cargo designed especially for Los Angeles. She anchored at San Pedro and discharged the goods. The vessel was named after the Christian name of a California lady, then the wife of a very wealthy gentleman—Abel Stearns—living in Los Angeles. Several years since, this lady, while at the Palace Hotel, was called upon by an acquaintance of hers, a Spanish-American gentleman, who in the course of conversation asked if she would sing; she replied, facetiously and with the utmost good nature, “No puedo cantar, pero puedo encantar.’’ (“I can’t chant, but I can enchant.”)

Spear and Henry Mellus were very good friends. Each called the other compadre, though this relation did not actually exist between them. I have heard Spear speak in the highest terms of Mellus, and compliment him for good business judgment.

The following is a list of the vessels which were sent out to Henry Mellus by Bryant & Sturgis while acting as their agent: ship California, Captain Arther; ship Alert, Captain Phelps; ship Barnstable (first voyage), Captain Hatch; ship Barnstable (second voyage), Captain Hall; ship Admittance, Captain Peterson; bark Tasso, Captain Libbey; and bark Olga, Captain Bull.

Don José Antonio Aguirre was one of the most prominent early merchants of California. At the time of the separation of Mexico from the Spanish government, he was in business in the city of Mexico, and largely interested in trade with Manila and Canton, which was carried on extensively between those places and Mexico. The importation of cargoes of Manila and China goods was a branch of the business he conducted. He remained loyal to Spain after the separation, and in consequence was expelled from Mexico, as was the case with many other loyal Spaniards. Coming to California he made his mercantile headquarters at Santa Barbara and San Diego. He owned the brig Leónidas, and afterward the Jóven Guipuzcoana. Fine-looking and of commanding appearance, though of rather a severe bearing toward strangers, his manners were affable and genial to those who knew him well. He was a genuine merchant, thoroughly educated. His first wife was a daughter of Prefect Estudillo of San Diego. In 1842 Aguirre had the finest residence in Santa Barbara. His wife dying there, he afterward married her sister. He was a great churchman and a favorite of the missionaries. He had visited the United States, was well read, and was appreciative of our institutions and government.

In conversing with me he gave expression to his views with regard to us; he thought that at the rate we were progressing in time we would be the greatest nation on earth. One thing about which he spoke seemed to have produced in him amazement: that in the courts which he sometimes visited from interest or curiosity, during the trial of a case, he would hear the arguments on either side, in which the opposing counsel appeared to be the greatest enemies, ready to tear each other to pieces, and yet, after the trial was closed, they would calm down and be the best of friends; and the same peculiarity was noticeable in our elections, when the prejudices and passions of men were excited on opposite sides; when resentments were aroused, hot words were exchanged, and all kinds of abusive things were said; yet, after the election, the combatants came together on the best of terms. He thought this a fine trait in the American character and spoke of it with admiration.

Aguirre was my guest from the early part of 1848 up to the end of 1849. Spear was there at the same time, and Aguirre and he became cronies. Often they had dissensions, but only upon political and national affairs.

The proposition that the United States might acquire Cuba by conquest or purchase had been broached, and Spear argued in favor of it, which would anger Aguirre, and he would denounce the project in severe terms, declaring in emphatic language that Spain would fight to the last drop of blood before she would surrender the island.

This worthy gentleman had a large estate. The San Jacinto Nuevo rancho. of eleven leagues, and several other smaller ranchos in San Diego County, and two or three leagues in Los Angeles County, were among his possessions, besides many cattle and horses. Four children and his wife survived him. The widow afterward married another Spaniard named Ferrer, who squandered all the property which the first husband had left to her.

One instance will bear telling. Ferrer after his marriage made a trip to San Francisco in the interest of his wife, who was to receive from Archbishop Alemany the sum of $14,000, which had been owing by the Church to Aguirre for many years. This large payment came from the Pious Fund of Mexico. Ferrer received the money and in two weeks returned to San Diego without a dollar of it.


In 1838 Don Miguel de Pedrorena, a resident of Peru, arrived here, being at the time part owner and supercargo of the Delmira. The vessel was under the Peruvian flag, and John Vioget was her captain.

The Delmira was loaded with tallow, and left the coast in 1839, Don Miguel remaining here. In 1840 the brig Juan José, Captain Duncan, was sent to him from Peru, he being part owner and supercargo. The other owners, whom he represented, were in Lima—a wealthy house. Most of their goods were imported from Europe to Peru, and they sought to increase their business by these ventures to California. The Juan José loaded with tallow and returned to Peru. Afterward she made another voyage hither for the same sort of cargo.

Don Miguel was a native of Spain and belonged to one of the first families of Madrid. After receiving an education in his own country he was sent to London, where he was educated in English, becoming a complete scholar. Most of the Castilian race of the upper class are proud and aristocratic, but Don Miguel, though of high birth, was exceedingly affable, polite, gracious in manner and bearing and in every respect a true gentleman. He married a daughter of Prefect Estudillo and resided in San Diego until the time of his death in 1850, leaving one son, Miguel, and two daughters, Elena and Ysabel. He was a member of the convention at Monterey in 1849 for the formation of the state constitution. He owned the Cajón rancho and San Jacinto Nuevo rancho, each containing eleven leagues, with some cattle and horses. Notwithstanding these large holdings of land he was in rather straitened circumstances in his latter years, and so much in need of money that when I visited San Diego in the early part of 1850 he offered to sell me thirty-two quarter-blocks of land (102 lots) in San Diego at a low figure. He had acquired the property in the winter of 1849-50 at the alcalde’s sale. I did not care for the land, but, being flush and having a large income from my business, I took the land, paying him thirteen or fourteen hundred dollars for it.

In Madrid he had several brothers and other relatives, one of his brothers being a minister at that time in the cabinet of the reigning monarch. During the last two or three years of his life, these relatives, becoming aware of his unfortunate circumstances, wrote to him repeatedly, urging him to come home to Spain and bring his family with him. They sent him means and assured him that he would be welcomed. Though poor, his proud disposition led him to decline all these offers. Popular with everybody in the department, the recollections of him by those who knew him are exceedingly pleasant. Spear was much attracted toward him on account of his fine scholarship and great store of information. He did all he could to make the acquaintance mutually agreeable.

When Commodore Stockton was making his preparations for the recapture of Los Angeles, in the latter part of 1846, at San Diego, at which point the fleet then lay, Don Miguel Pedrorena offered his services as a cavalryman, which were accepted. He also rendered aid to Stockton before he started on the expedition by procuring him supplies of horses. Being an active man, familiar with the country and people, he did this very readily. Don Santiaguito Argüello also volunteered his services to Stockton, and assisted Pedrorena. Both of these men were appointed captains in Stockton’s force, and both had cavalry commands. Major Samuel J. Hensley, who joined Stockton at Yerba Buena in the fall of 1846, and went with him to San Diego in the Congress, also joined Pedrorena and Argüello in scouring the country for horses and getting as many of the Californians as they could to join the expedition. Hensley also had a command under Stockton. Not only before the force started, but during their progress from San Diego to the river of San Gabriel, these three men rendered invaluable service to the commodore by inducing other Californians to join and augment the force. I think there were about one hundred Californians on Stockton’s side when the conflict took place. Hensley, who had been in the country a good while, was an accomplished horseman, entirely at home in the saddle. He and Pedrorena and Argüello were brave men, cool, collected, self-possessed, determined, and consequently were of value. In the battle they all displayed great judgment and bravery.

Don Santiaguito was an Indian fighter, and had been always foremost in proceeding promptly against the Indians whenever they committed depredations on the people, as they often did. He organized many of the hasty expeditions which were gotten up on the spur of the moment to pursue and chastise them on such occasions, and was very successful in overtaking and punishing them as they deserved. Often he was in a good deal of danger in the engagements, and I have known him at times to be in very critical circumstances, but never in the least flurried or excited—always calm and collected, fully aware of what he was about, bringing himself finally out all right. This man was a nephew of Don Luis Argüello, the first native California governor of the department.

In 1834 Alfred Robinson and William A. Gale, who were associated in the agency for Bryant & Sturgis, were at Santa Barbara awaiting the arrival of the ship California at that port. One day seeing a vessel approach the town, between the islands, they went toward the beach and made her out to be their vessel. On their way they met Thomas Shaw, supercargo of the Lagoda, coming up to the town, when Robinson called out exultingly to him, “Look out, Shaw! There’s the California coming; you’ll have some competition now.” On the return voyage of the California to Boston anterior to this present arrival, she discharged her unsold merchandise at Santa Barbara.

The missions were rich at the time, and the two agents, in order to make large sales of goods, concocted an ingenious plan, which they carried into effect, as follows: After the captain had been ordered to take the ship to Monterey they started up the coast on horses with their invoices of goods. Pretending to be rivals, Gale would go first, on coming to a mission, and present his invoice to the padres, and after they had made large selections from the list, Robinson, who was much liked by the fathers and friendly with all of them smilingly presented his invoice and made extensive sales also. Repeating this at other missions, by the time Monterey was reached they had sold an enormous quantity of merchandise. Each had prepared a list of the cargo.

Gale was known on the coast by the name of Don Guillermo “el Cuatro Ojos” (four eyes), from the fact that he wore glasses, this name having been bestowed by the Californians, who were given to nicknaming a person with anything peculiar in his appearance or manner. By such name he was known to everybody during his stay here. The custom prevailed more particularly in the southern portion of the department, where two ladies., cousins of my wife, were nicknamed, one “Nutria” (sea otter) and the other “Pichona” (dove), and so addressed to this day (1892).

The padres not only taught the Indians to build vessels and boats, but instructed them also in their management, and made sailors of them. They were sometimes employed as such by myself and other merchants at Yerba Buena, upon boats that were attached to the vessels or that were owned on shore, in the delivery of goods and collecting hides and tallow. The padres also instructed the Indians how to shoot and capture otters in the best manner; hence their accumulation of so large a number of fur skins when the sea otters were plentiful about the bay and along the coast.

I remember that, in 1833, hides and tallow were brought to the vessel in schooners and launches manned and commanded by Indians, from the Mission Dolores and the missions of San Jose, Santa Clara and San Rafael, the vessels and boats having been built at the missions by the Indians, under instructions from the padres, after designs and models prepared by them of a very ancient pattern. They reminded me of illustrations of old Spanish vessels.

Richardson owned one of these vessels, built at the mission of San Rafael, called the Tava, and the old Indian Monico was one of the crew, who were all Indians. Old Domingo Peralta had another of these peculiar boats, built at one of the missions. Nathan Spear had control of a boat of this kind in 1839, belonging to the mission of San Jose. It will be seen that the padres, in addition to their missionary work and the teaching of various trades to the Indians, were also shipwrights and skilled workmen in the building of vessels and boats.

About 1833 the brig Loriot, Captain Nye, arrived at Monterey from Honolulu with a cargo of merchandise, A. B. Thompson supercargo. Shortly after reaching Yerba Buena, orders were sent from Monterey to have the vessel and cargo seized, upon the presumption that full duties had not been paid. Don José Sánchez was directed to board the vessel and arrest Thompson. He accordingly proceeded to do so, accompanied by a squad of soldiers. Reaching the deck of the vessel and approaching to make the arrest, Sánchez drew a pistol and aimed it at Thompson, who instantly struck it from the officer’s hand and at the same moment knocked him down and jumped upon him. The soldiers came to Sánchez’ aid and gave him protection. Thompson was taken ashore and imprisoned at the presidio, where he remained for some considerable time. After his arrest the whole cargo was removed to shore, together with the stores of the vessel, and the sails were unbent and taken away. Finally an order was received from headquarters to release the cargo and other property of the vessel and to liberate Thompson, which was carried into effect. During the detention the cargo and stores deteriorated in condition, particularly the latter, which were also much diminished in quantity.

The trip of the Loriot to Honolulu from Boston, prior to her coming here, was one of the longest on record—occupying two hundred days. The voyage was so long that the stores were early exhausted. They lived on nothing but salt beef, salt pork and pilot bread during the last sixty or seventy days of the trip. Every man on board was free from the scurvy and other sickness, which was certainly a divine favor considering the food on which they subsisted. On this voyage, Henry, a younger brother of Captain Paty, came out, also Eli Southworth, both from Plymouth, Massachusetts. Henry was part owner of the Don Quixote, and in the year 1840, while the vessel was on a voyage from Valparaíso to Honolulu, many of the crew were sick from smallpox contracted in Chile, and several died on the passage, which so affected the mind of Henry that, though not taking the disease, he became demented. Looking into a mirror in his stateroom, he took a razor and cut his throat. He was buried at sea. Southworth was interested in the Don Quixote. From 1843 to 1845 he was with me in Yerba Buena as my clerk. After 1849 he went to the redwoods and engaged men in getting out lumber for a number of years, but did not make a success of the venture financially. In 1853 he came to live at my house at San Leandro; he remained there until he died, in 1857.

As an exception to the uniformity of friendship and good feeling which prevailed on the coast in early days between the foreigners and Californians, and, in fact, between all classes in all their relations, I wish to mention that Everett, who has been spoken of as coming here in the Alert, was a disagreeable man. He arrived again in the bark Tasso as supercargo, with Captain Hastings, in 1840. Mean, selfish, and repulsive in his appearance and manners, his unhappy disposition was shown by his continually quarreling with Captain Hastings, who was a gentleman. However, notwithstanding his unpopularity and the general disfavor with which he was regarded, he succeeded in filling his vessel, for the reason that the people were in want of the goods which he had brought, and therefore they took them in exchange for hides and tallow. Everett, contrary to the usual custom of the merchants, never made presents to the people or showed them any friendly courtesies. They themselves were always generous to strangers, making them welcome to whatever they hind. They would have disdained an offer of compensation for such kindness. But the merchants, having been so well treated by them, and having shared more or less in their hospitality, naturally reciprocated the good feeling and showed their appreciation and friendship by making presents from time to time, thereby cultivating a kindly spirit.

Source: Davis, William Heath. Seventy-five Years in San Francisco. 1929: San Francisco.

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