“Then there is the ladies’ parlor, which is grand I tell you, with its velvet sofas, divanzes and everything. There ain’t nothing around here in the mines that can compare with it. Then up-stairs is a fine billiard room, where I saw some of the old boys amusing themselves, and I noticed that the most of ’em who played, were sure to get left every time, jest as many of us used to in mining. ’Tis the same old game, clear through. (You bet ’tis, was the general response.) There is also a big smoking-room, and here were a number of the old boys amusing themselves by playing checkers, dominoes and cards, and they all looked a kinder happy and contended, with a sort of a ‘well, now we have struck it’ kind of a look about ’em. Oh, by the way, there was a large reading-room, too, containing several long tables which were all covered with books and newspapers. And there were a number of old boys sitting around in just the biggest kind of rocking chairs that you ever did see. Some were reading, and some were asleep and just dreaming about their old mining days.” Some one asked how many of the boys were there now in the society, who were living, and how many had joined since its organization in ’50?
He explained that Mr. Graves, the Secretary, informed him that the whole number who had joined the society was about 3,350, and of this number there were now living about 1,300.
“Well, Jeff, did you make out to find the old ship once more that brought you to California?”
“No, boys, but I found the great building that was built over her hull on Sansome street, but the hull of the old ship is buried deep below the mud and water out of sight entirely, and all that remains now of the old ship is the name, the ‘Niantic.’”
After Jeff had concluded, an old-timer remarked that it was a great pleasure to him to hear that so many of the old-timers were yet living, and said he:
“I wish there was some way of finding out how many of the old-timers are yet living, and what part of the world they are in.”
“Faith thin,” replied Mike, “indade an’ ’twud be er foine thing if we wer afther knowin’ thet same. An’ if we wer afther knowin’ of ther b’ys who are above the ground at ther prisint toime, thet we sailed with around ther Horn so many long years since, an’ indade, if we could only be afther mateing with some of thim, an talk ov ther ould times and incidints av ther voyage, an’ ov ther lives ov thim since we landed upon ther coast, do yez moind, pwhat tales we could be afther relatin’ to aich other, ov evints an’ incidints av a California loife.
“Pwhat a foine thing ’twould be, now, if some one wud jest be afther gittin’ ther names ov ther b’ys who are now livin’. ’Twould be a hape ov trouble an’ ixpensive, too, but bedad thin, twould be interestin’ to all ov us. Now, Yank, yez had better undertake ther job ov gittin’ ther names of thim for yez own satisfaction.”