This was the very worst thing, possibly, that she could have done. It added edge to my disgust with it. Night after night, when the day's work was over, were spent by me in querulously grumbling, and by her in consoling my discontent at my condition in life.
At length the farming season ended, and then my detestation of agriculture was doomed to be inconceivably heightened.
While I had out-of-door occupation, I could stand its regular monotony. Without it, what was there for me to do? I could but wander round the yard, and look at my pigs, fodder my cattle, take a stroll to the next farm, some three miles away, return to my little wife, expect her to console me, and then retire to bed, with the expectation of awaking to another day of the same humdrum existence.
My life had a necessity for positive activity.
The good little soul to whom I was married saw this; possibly too late. However this was, it came about that, with her full consent, although not without many tears on her part, and a considerable quantity of gloomy sorrow on mine, I left her at home, and struck out once more into the world.
It would be useless to narrate every incident of this winter, but in the spring of 1855 I brought up at St. Joseph, Missouri.
Here, Maggie Mitchell was at this period playing as a "star," and to her I was indebted for a short engagement in the Theatre. It lasted for six weeks. When it came to a conclusion, I determined upon visiting California, at that time the Ophir and Golconda of the further side of this continent. However, it was no use starting with the small means I then had, unless some positive manner of living in San Francisco, at my first arrival there, was secured. Therefore, I telegraphed to Thomas McGuire, of McGuire's Opera House, who was about to open the New Metropolitan Theatre. In reply, he offered me an engagement for the September following. It was a long time to wait, but luckily I had recently become acquainted with John Crim, of the firm of Crim, Ebright and Coutts, who was organizing a party to cross the Plains.
He spoke to me about joining them, and in almost less time than it takes me to pen these few lines, I had arranged to accompany him.
It was upon the 6th of May, after having written a long and lovingly explanatory letter to my wife, I started from St. Joseph.
There were three hundred and seventy-five head of horses, and seventy-five men, all thoroughly armed and equipped. Each of them was furnished with a Sharp's carbine with sabre-bayonet, and a revolver. It was almost like the moving of a little army. The organization had been made in thorough military style, and perhaps with even more discipline, being under the command of Captain Crim himself.