He had long expressed a wish to belong to a certain "fash'n'ble" club, and with a view of burlesque he was invited to visit the club, where a series of ridiculous entertainments were given him, winding up with a card party. As I passed the steps of the club-house early next morning, I overheard two or three members talking excitedly,—
"He cleaned everybody out." "Why, he must have raked in nigh on $40,000."
"Who?" I asked.
"The Man from Solano."
As I turned away, one of the gentlemen, a victim, noted for his sporting propensities, followed me, and laying his hand on my shoulders, asked:—
"Tell me fairly now. What business did your friend follow in California?"
"He was a shepherd."
"A what?"
"A shepherd. Tended his flocks on the honey-scented hills of Solano."
"Well, all I can say is, d—n your California pastorals!"