<h2>CHAPTER XXXII<br/> THE SANTA ANITA <i>RANCHO</i><br/> 1875</h2>
<p>Until near the end of the seventies, there was very little
done toward the laying of sewers, although the reader
will remember that a private conveyor connected the
Bella Union with the <i>zanja</i> running through Mellus's Row. Los
Angeles Street from First to Second, in 1873, had one of brick
and wood; and in 1875, a brick sewer was built from the corner
of Main and Arcadia streets down to Winston and thence to
Los Angeles Street. It must have been in the early seventies
that a wooden sewer was constructed on Commercial Street
from Los Angeles to Alameda, and another on New High
Street for about one block. In 1879, one of brick was laid
from Los Angeles and Commercial as far north as Arcadia,
and connecting with the Main Street sewer. At about the
same time, vitrified clay was used on a portion of Temple
Street. My impression is that there was no <i>cloaca</i> laid on
Spring Street until after 1880, while it was still later that Fort,
Hill and Olive streets were served. As late as 1887, Hope
Street had no sewer and very little conduit-building, if any,
had been undertaken south of Seventh or west of Flower.</p>
<p>In January, 1875, the Commercial Bank, that was to
change five years later into the First National, began business.
Most of the incorporators were San Diego men—among them
being Captain Henry Wilcox—although four—L. J. Rose, S.
H. Mott, R. M. Town and Edward Bouton—were from Los
Angeles. M. S. Patrick, of Chicago, was President; and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_473" id="Page_473">473</SPAN></span>
Edward F. Spence was Cashier. Their room was on Main
Street between Commercial and Requena. J. E. Hollenbeck,
who was succeeded by Spence, was the first President of the
National Bank. J. M. Elliott, made Cashier in 1885, has for
years well filled the office of President. A pillar of strength
in this institution is Vice-president Stoddard Jess.</p>
<p>Captain Wilcox, owner of the Colorado Steam Navigation
Company, who finally sold out to the Pacific Mail Steamship
Company, brought to California, on his own vessel in 1848,
the first light-houses. He married Señorita María Antónia
Arguello, the granddaughter of an early Governor of California.
One of his daughters became the wife of Lieutenant
Randolph Huntington Miner, and another married Lieutenant
J. C. Drake. Captain Wilcox had induced E. F. Spence to
come from San Diego to Los Angeles, and thereby gave a
decided impetus to the starting of the Commercial Bank.</p>
<p>Milton Lindley, formerly an Indiana saddle-maker and
Treasurer of Los Angeles County in 1879, arrived here in 1875,
accompanied by Walter, the physician; Henry, the banker,
who settled at Whittier; Albert, an attorney; and Miss Ida B.,
a teacher. In the eighties, he was twice Supervisor. Dr.
Walter Lindley, once a Minnesota schoolmaster, so soon established
himself that in 1878 he was elected health officer and,
in 1880, a member of the Board of Education. The following
year, he was President of the County Medical Society. With
Dr. Widney, he contributed to the literature setting forth
California's natural attractions; and with his brother-in-law,
Dr. John R. Haynes, he took a leading part in organizing the
California Hospital. Both Lindley and Haynes have identified
themselves with many other important local institutions and
movements.</p>
<p>Madame Caroline Severance, already distinguished as
the founder, in 1868, of the first woman's club in America—the
New England, of Boston—took up her residence in Los
Angeles in 1875 and soon made her home, <i>El Nido</i>, the
center of many notable sociological and philanthropic activities.
Especially active was she in promoting the free kindergarten,
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_474" id="Page_474">474</SPAN></span>
working in coöperation with Mrs. Grover Cleveland and Kate
Douglas Wiggin, the California author who was her <i>protégée</i>
and resided for some time at <i>El Nido</i> when she was first becoming
famous as a story-writer.</p>
<p>On March 27th, the <i>Weekly Mirror</i> was again enlarged and
a subscription rate of one dollar a year was charged. By the
beginning of 1876, a bindery was established in connection with
the printery; and a Potter cylinder press—one of the first
operated west of the Rockies—was installed.</p>
<p>E. J. Baldwin bought the Santa Anita <i>rancho</i>, in April,
from H. Newmark & Company—a transaction recalled thirty-eight
years later when, in 1913, the box which had been sealed
and placed in the corner-stone of the Trinity Methodist
Episcopal Church, at about the time of the sale, was brought
forth from its long burial. Baldwin had just sold his controlling
interest in the Ophir mine of the Comstock district for
five million, five hundred thousand dollars. In the same year,
we purchased of the Vejar estate the splendid vineyard of
fifty acres commencing at Washington Street, on the south
and a little east of Main Street, and taking in many important
sections of to-day; selling it, in the early eighties, to Kaspare
Cohn who, in turn, disposed of it during the boom of that
decade. George Compère, somewhat noted as a local entomologist,
cared for this vineyard while we owned it. Baldwin
died on March 1st, 1909.</p>
<p>The sale of the Santa Anita is not without an incident or
two, perhaps, of exceptional interest. On "Lucky" Baldwin's
first visit, he offered us one hundred and fifty thousand dollars
for the property; but learning that we wanted two hundred
thousand dollars, he started off in a huff. Then Reuben Lloyd,
the famous San Francisco attorney who accompanied him,
said on reaching the sidewalk, "Lucky, go back and buy that
ranch, or they'll raise the price on you!" and Baldwin returned,
carrying under his arm a tin-box (containing several
million dollars) from which he drew forth twelve thousand,
five hundred, tendering the same as a first payment.</p>
<p>One can hardly refer to Baldwin without recalling H. A.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_475" id="Page_475">475</SPAN></span>
Unruh, in the late sixties in the employ of the Central Pacific.
It is my impression that I first met him at the Baldwin Hotel
in San Francisco. This meeting may have occurred nearly
thirty-five years ago; and after his removal to the Santa Anita
Ranch, where he took charge of Baldwin's interests in the
Southland, he transacted a large amount of business with H.
Newmark & Co. In 1887, Unruh was also in partnership at
La Puente with a man named Carroll, the firm advertising as
"Agents for Baldwin's Grain Warehouse, Wells Fargo & Co.'s
Express and Postmaster." When Baldwin died, his will named
Unruh executor; Bradner W. Lee being the attorney.</p>
<p>Ravenna, on the Southern Pacific, was a town of the
middle seventies, at whose start James O'Reilly, an Irishman
of medium build, with reddish hair and a pug nose decidedly
indented at the bridge, turned up with a happy-go-lucky air.
Always slovenly, he wore a big, black slouch hat on the back
of his head, as well as a good-natured expression, in days of
prosperity, on his comical face. He had a grocery, famed for a
conglomeration of merchandise not at all improved by age and
hard usage; and this he sold to a none too fastidious clientele.
He also cooked for himself, bragging that he was sufficiently
adroit to throw a slapjack up the chimney and catch it in
the pan, <i>outside the shanty</i> on its flop or turn! When Jim
took to working a couple of claims known as the New York
and Parnell Mines, his tribulations began: he spent more in
the development of his property than he ever recovered, and
claim-jumpers bothered him to death. In truth, once ascribing
debatable motives to a man prowling there, he took aim
at the intruder and—shot off an ear! Later, he married; but
his wife soon divorced him. In time, his troubles affected his
mind; and having lost everything and come to fancy himself
an alchemist, he would sit for hours in the burning sun (his
temples plastered with English mustard) industriously stirring
a pestle and convinced that he could bring about a transmutation
of the mortarful of mud. In the end, this good-natured
Son of Erin was one day found dead in his little shanty.</p>
<p>J. A. Graves arrived in Los Angeles on June 5th and soon
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_476" id="Page_476">476</SPAN></span>
entered the office of Brunson & Eastman, lawyers. The
following January he was admitted to practice before the Supreme
Court and then became a member of the firm of Brunson,
Eastman & Graves, dissolved in 1878. Practicing alone
for a couple of years, Graves, in 1880, formed a partnership
with J. S. Chapman. On the dissolution of this firm, in
1885, Graves joined, first H. W. O'Melveny and then J. H.
Shankland; Graves, O'Melveny & Shankland continuing until
January, 1904. On June 1st, 1903, Graves became Vice-president
of the Farmers & Merchants National Bank. In the
fall of 1879, the young attorney married Miss Alice H., daughter
of J. M. Griffith, and for nine years they lived at the corner of
Fort and Third streets. In 1888 they removed to Alhambra,
where they still live. In 1912, Graves published some entertaining
reminiscences entitled, <i>Out of Doors California and
Oregon</i>.</p>
<p>Colonel W. E. Morford, a native of New Jersey and, late
in the eighties, Superintendent of Streets, returned to Los
Angeles in 1875, having previously been here. Morford had
been assistant to Captain Sutter; and when he left San Francisco
on March 14th, 1849, to return East, he carried the first
gold taken from the diggings in the exciting era of 1848. This
gold was sent by Frank Lemon, a member of Stevenson's
Regiment, to his brother William, a partner of John Anderson,
the New York tobacco merchant; and Morford liked to tell
how, when the strange find was displayed on August 22d, in a
little window of the well-known jewelry store of Benedict at 7
Wall Street near a high-hatted guard, the narrow thoroughfare
was soon beyond hope of police control, thousands of curious,
excited people struggling to get a glimpse of the California
treasure.</p>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_554a" id="i_554a"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_554a.jpg" width-obs="432" height-obs="317" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Round House, with Main Street Entrance</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_554b" id="i_554b"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_554b.jpg" width-obs="323" height-obs="403" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Spring Street Entrance to Garden of Paradise</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_555a" id="i_555a"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_555a.jpg" width-obs="431" height-obs="258" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Temple Street, Looking West from Broadway, about 1870</p> </div>
<div class="figcenter"><SPAN name="i_555b" id="i_555b"></SPAN> <ANTIMG src="images/i_555b.jpg" width-obs="434" height-obs="325" alt="" /> <p class="caption">Pico House, soon after Completion</p> </div>
<p>Moses Langley Wicks was a Mississippian who for some
years had a law office at Anaheim until, in 1877 or 1878, he
removed to Los Angeles and soon became an active operator
in real estate. He secured from Jonathan S. Slauson—who organized
the Azusa Land and Water Company and helped lay
out the town—the Dalton section of the San José Ranch.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_477" id="Page_477">477</SPAN></span>
Wicks was also active in locating the depot of the Santa Fé
Railroad, carrying through at private expense the opening of
Second Street from Main almost to the river. A brother,
Moye Wicks, long an attorney here, later removed to the State
of Washington.</p>
<p>Southern California was now prospering; in fact, the whole
State was enjoying wonderful advantages. The great Comstock
mines were at the height of their prosperity; the natural
resources of this part of the country were being developed;
land once hard to sell, at even five dollars an acre, was being
cut up into small tracts; new hamlets and towns were starting
up; money was plentiful and everybody was happy.</p>
<p>About this time my brother, J. P. Newmark, and I made a
little tour, visiting Lake Tahoe—an unusual trip in that day—as
well as the mines of Nevada. Virginia City, Gold Hill and
other mining-camps were the liveliest that I had ever seen.
My friend, General Charles Forman, was then Superintendent
of the Overman and Caledonia Mines, and was engaged in
constructing a beautiful home in Virginia City. After the
collapse of the Nevada boom in the early eighties, he transported
this house to Los Angeles, at a freight expense of
eleven hundred and thirty-five dollars and a total cost of
over six thousand, and located it on ten acres of land near
the present site of Pico and Figueroa streets, where Mr. and
Mrs. Forman, still residents of Los Angeles, for years have
enjoyed their home.</p>
<p>Miners were getting high wages and spending their money
lavishly, owners of buildings in Virginia City receiving from four
to eight per cent. a month on their investments. W. C. Ralston,
President of the Bank of California at San Francisco, was largely
responsible for this remarkable excitement, for he not only lent
money freely but he lent it regardless of conservative banking
principles. He engaged in indiscriminate speculation, for a
time legitimatizing illegitimacy, and people were so incited by
his example that they plunged without heed. All of Nevada's
treasure was shipped to San Francisco, whose prosperity
was phenomenal. From San Francisco the excitement spread
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_478" id="Page_478">478</SPAN></span>
throughout the State; but these conditions, from the nature of
things, could not endure. From Bull to Bear is but a short
step when the public is concerned, and it happened accordingly,
as it so frequently does, that the cry of "Save yourself, if you
can!" involved California in a general demoralization. One day
in October, 1875, when Ralston's speculation had indeed proven
disastrous, the Bank of California closed its doors; and a few
days after this, Ralston, going a-swimming in the neighborhood
of the North Beach at San Francisco, was drowned—whether a
suicide or not, no one knows. In the meantime, the recessional
frenzy extended all over the State, and every bank was obliged
to close its doors. Those of Los Angeles were no exception to
the rule; and it was then that Temple & Workman suspended.
I. W. Hellman, who was on a European trip at the time, forthwith
returned to Los Angeles, re-opened the doors of the
Farmers & Merchants Bank and resumed business just as if
nothing had happened. Following this panic, times became
dreadfully bad; from greatest prosperity, we dropped to the
depths of despair. Specie disappeared from circulation; values
suffered, and this was especially true of real estate in California.</p>
<p>Temple & Workman's Bank, for reasons I have already
specified, could not recover. Personally, these gentlemen
stood well and had ample resources; but to realize on these
was impossible under conditions then existing. They applied
to E. J. Baldwin, a Monte Cristo of that period, for a loan.
He was willing to advance them two hundred and ten thousand
dollars, but upon two conditions: first, that they would
give him a blanket-mortgage on their combined real estate;
secondly, that their intimate friend, Juan Matías Sanchez,
would include in the mortgage his splendid tract consisting
of twenty-two hundred acres of the finest land around the Old
Mission. Sanchez, who transacted a good deal of business
with H. Newmark & Company, came to me for advice. I felt
convinced that Temple & Workman's relief could be at best
but temporary, although I am sure that they themselves believed
it would be permanent, and so I strenuously urged
Sanchez to refuse; which he finally promised me to do. So
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_479" id="Page_479">479</SPAN></span>
impressive was our interview that I still vividly recall the scene
when he dramatically said: "<i>¡No quiero morir de hambre!</i>"—"I
do not wish to die of hunger!" A few days later I learned,
to my deep disappointment, that Sanchez had agreed, after all,
to include his lands. In the course of time, Baldwin foreclosed
and Sanchez died very poor. Temple also, his pride
shattered—notwithstanding his election in 1875 to the County
Treasurership—died a ruined man; and Workman soon committed
suicide. Thus ended in sorrow and despair the lives of
three men who, in their day, had prospered to a degree not
given to every man, and who had also been more or less
distinguished. Baldwin bought in most of the land at Sheriff's
sale; and when he died, in 1909, after an adventurous
career in which he consummated many transactions, he left an
estate of about twenty millions. A pathetic reminder of Sanchez
and his one-time prosperity is an <i>asador</i> or meat toaster,
from the old Sanchez homestead, now exhibited at the County
Museum.</p>
<p>In 1874, Senator John P. Jones came south and engaged
with William M. Stewart, his senatorial colleague (once an
obscure lawyer in Downieville, and later a Nevada Croesus),
in mining at Panamint, purchasing all their supplies in Los
Angeles. About the same time, Colonel R. S. Baker, who had
shortly before bought the San Vicente <i>rancho</i>, sold a two-thirds
interest in the property to Jones; and one of their first
operations was the laying out of the town of Santa Monica.
After the hotel and bath-houses had been built, an auction sale
of lots took place on July 16th, 1875, and was attended by a
large number of people, including myself; prospective buyers
coming from as far as San Francisco to compete with bidders
from the Southland. Tom Fitch, already known as the
"Silver-tongued Orator," was the auctioneer and started the
ball rolling with one of his most pyrotechnical efforts. He
described the place about to be founded as "The Zenith City
by the Sunset Sea," and painted a gorgeous vista of the day
when the white sails of commerce would dot the placid waters
of the harbor, and the products of the Orient would crowd
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_480" id="Page_480">480</SPAN></span>
those of the Occident at the great wharves that were to stretch
far out into the Pacific!</p>
<p>Then Tom turned his attention and eloquence to the sale
of the lots, which lay along Ocean Avenue, each sixty by one
hundred and fifty feet in size. Calling for a bid, he announced
the minimum price of three hundred dollars for sites along the
ocean front. Several friends—I. M. Hellman, I. W. Hellman,
Kaspare Cohn, Eugene Meyer and M. J. Newmark—had
authorized me to act for them; and I put in the first bid
of three hundred dollars. Fitch accepted, and stated that
as many more of these lots as I wanted could be had at the
same price; whereupon I took five, located between Utah and
Oregon avenues. These we divided among us, each taking
fifty feet front, with the expectation of building summer homes;
but strange to say, none of us did so, and in the end we sold
our unimproved ground. Some years later, I bought a site in
the next block and built a house which I still occupy each
year in the summer season.</p>
<p>Three early characters of Santa Monica had much to do
with the actual starting of the place. The one, L. G. Giroux,
a Canadian, walked out to Santa Monica one day in 1875, to
get a glimpse of the surf, and came back to town the owner of a
lot on which he soon built the second permanent house there—a
small grocery and liquor shop. In the eighties, Giroux did
good public service as a Supervisor. The second, Billy Rapp,
also came in 1875 and built a small brick house on the west side
of Second Street somewhere between Utah and Arizona avenues.
There, after marrying a German <i>Frau</i>, he opened a saloon;
and pleasure-seekers visiting Santa Monica on Sundays long
remembered Billy's welcome and how, on the arrival of the
morning train from Los Angeles, he always tapped a fresh keg
of lager. After a while, he closed his saloon and sold the little
building for a town hall. Hard times in later years rapped
at Billy's door, forcing him to work on the public streets until
1899, when he died. The third settler was George Boehme,
who landed with the first steamer and, within an hour or two,
invested in lots. His family is there to-day.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_481" id="Page_481">481</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Another pioneer Santa Monica family was that of William
D. Vawter who, with his sons, W. S. and E. J., originally
members of the Indiana Colony at Pasadena, removed to the
beach in 1875. My relations with these gentlemen were quite
intimate when they conducted a general merchandise business,
that being but one of their numerous enterprises. Of late years,
W. S. Vawter has twice been Postmaster at Santa Monica.</p>
<p>In 1875, Paul Kern, who had come to Los Angeles in 1854
and was for years a baker, set to work to improve a piece of
property he owned at the junction of South Main and Spring
streets, between Eighth and Ninth. At the end of this property
he erected a two-story brick building—still to be seen—in the
lower part of which he had a grocery and a saloon, and in the
upper part of which he lived.</p>
<p>Toward the middle of the seventies, A. Ulyard, the baker,
embarked in the carrying of passengers and freight between
Los Angeles and Santa Monica, sending a four-horse stage
from here at half-past seven every morning, and from Santa
Monica at half-past three in the afternoon, and calling at all
four Los Angeles hotels as well as at the private residences
of prospective patrons. One dollar was the fare charged.</p>
<p>Ralph Leon had the only regular cigar store here in the
late sixties, occupying a part of the United States Hotel; and
he was very prosperous until, unable to tolerate a nearby
competitor—George, a brother of William Pridham—he took up
a new stand and lost much of his patronage. Pridham opened
the second cigar store, about 1872 or 1873, next to the hotel; and
Leon moved to a shop near the Farmers & Merchants Bank.</p>
<p>The names of these early dealers remind me of an interesting
custom especially popular with Captain Thom, Billy Workman
and other lovers of the aromatic weed. Instead of buying
cigars by the piece, each of these inveterate smokers purchased
a box at a time, wrote his name on the lid and left it on a shelf
of the dealer; and from time to time they would slip in by a
rear door and help themselves—generally from their own or,
occasionally, from their neighbor's supply. When Leon discovered
that the patron's box was empty, he would have it refilled.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_482" id="Page_482">482</SPAN></span></p>
<p>In the autumn, Temple & Workman were obliged to suspend.
After closing temporarily, they made an effort to
resume, but a run on the Bank deprived them of all reserves
and they finally had to close their doors. It was the worst
of all bank failures here, the creditors losing everything. Some
idea of the disaster may be gathered from the fact that the
Receiver finally sold worthless securities to the extent of about
three hundred thousand dollars for the paltry sum of thirty
dollars.</p>
<p>On the sixth of November, 1875, Mrs. Joseph Newmark, my
wife's mother, died here surrounded by her nearest of kin.</p>
<p>During the construction of the Southern Pacific Railway,
Sisson, Wallace & Company, who furnished both labor and
supplies, brought M. Dodsworth to Los Angeles and like many
of their employees, he remained here after the railroad was
completed. He engaged in the pork-packing business, for a
long period prospered and built a residence on the southwest
corner of Sixth and Main streets, opening it with a large
reception. He was an honorable man and had a host of
friends; but about 1887, when the Santa Fé had been built
to Los Angeles, the large Eastern packers of hog products sent
agents into Southern California and wiped Dodsworth out of
business.</p>
<p>S. J. Mathes came in 1875, helped enlarge the <i>Mirror</i>
and was identified with the <i>Times</i>; but failing health, forcing
him to abandon office work, led him in the eighties to conduct
Pullman excursions, in which undertaking he became a pioneer,
bringing thousands of tourists to the Southland. He also
toured the country with a railway car exhibit known as
"California on Wheels," pointing the way of exploitation to
later Chambers of Commerce.</p>
<p>Toward the end of the year, when attention was being
centered on the coming exposition at Philadelphia, I was asked
by the Chamber of Commerce to assist in editing a report on
the resources, conditions, population, climatic advantages
and mercantile interests of the city and county of Los Angeles.
The aim of the Board was to make the report truthful and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_483" id="Page_483">483</SPAN></span>
helpful, and to distribute it gratis, particularly at the Centennial.
Ben C. Truman wrote about cities, towns and climate;
Judge R. M. Widney reported on railroads; H. McClellan, the
steamship agent (who preceded Willis Parris, the present representative
and once a competent bill-clerk in the employ of
H. Newmark & Company) and brother of Bryce and George F.
McClellan, told of ocean navigation; Dr. J. E. Fulton, of Fulton
Wells, discussed farming; Dr. J. P. Widney described our
harbor; D. M. Berry argued for real estate; Governor Downey
presented banks and banking; M. Keller and L. J. Rose treated
of vine culture; J. de B. Shorb looked after semi-tropical fruits
and nuts, and T. A. Garey—himself the owner of a charming
place on San Pedro Street, where his spiritualistic tendencies
kept him up at night awaiting the arrival of spooks—considered
other fruits and nurseries; W. J. Brodrick stated our
advance in trades, professions, churches and societies; E. C.
French summed up about stock; Captain Gordon recounted
our prospects for beet culture; while H. D. Barrows and I
prepared data as to the commerce of Southern California.
Thus compactly put together, this booklet certainly led many
Easterners to migrate West and to settle in Los Angeles and
vicinity.</p>
<p>In the early seventies, Grange Stores, brought into existence
by a craze for coöperation, were scattered throughout
the State, and Milton H. La Fetra in February, 1875 helped
to organize one here. In time, this establishment became
known, first as Seymour & Company and then as Seymour,
Johnson & Company, their location being on Main Street
near First.</p>
<p>W. H. Northcraft's activity as an auctioneer began about
the middle of the seventies. For a while, he had an office in
Temple Block, but about 1880 moved to the east side of Los
Angeles Street near Requena; later to the Signoret Building,
and still later to the Baker Block. In 1879, Thomas B.
Clark, still well known "in the profession," came to Los
Angeles and, marrying Northcraft's daughter, joined his father-in-law
in partnership. C. L. Northcraft, a son, was added
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_484" id="Page_484">484</SPAN></span>
to the firm. Alonzo B. Cass came to Los Angeles in 1888,
accompanied by his brothers, and soon after, as Cass Brothers'
Stove Company, they started a hardware store on Third Street,
purchasing some of Northcraft & Clark's stock of merchandise.
A. B. Cass, who served as President of the Chamber of
Commerce in 1901, has freely given of his time to public movements.
As President of the Home Telephone & Telegraph
Company, he has had much to do with their local success.
E. W. Noyes was also a popular, old-time auctioneer, remaining
in harness until he was seventy-five years old or more.</p>
<p>The mention of these names recalls the auction of past
decades, such a familiar feature of Los Angeles life. In few
respects were the methods of early days at all like those of our
own: there were no catalogues, no neatly-arranged store-rooms
and but little expert service; noise and bluff constituted a good,
even important portion of the necessary auctioneering talent;
household effects were usually offered at homes; horses—and
these constituted the objects of most early auctioneering activities—were
trotted up and down Los Angeles Street for display
and sale.
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_485" id="Page_485">485</SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />