mustard until we reach the Mission of Santa Clara within three miles of the city. It is a pretty place, a church built in the old Spanish style with most grim looking saints pictured on the walls and some very nice adobe houses, with a sprinkling of Yankee cottages. Groups of Mexicans and Indians are lounging about basking in the sunshine; the only moving active thing is our little party as we canter gaily through the village. But I fear this long ride will weary you, so we will make haste to Pueblo. Our party is increased in number to about twenty and we make quite an appearance as we come clat- tering up the wide and pleasant streets of Pueblo. The place seems almost deserted for this is the day of the grand race for ten thousand dollars, and all the population have gone to the race course. Upon arriving there we found some two or three thousand, mostly Mexicans in all variety of the Spanish costumes. The races over, we adjourn to the mansion house, a fine hotel, board only $8 per day; after dinner we took a ride about town and passed the evening pleasantly. The Pueblo is very pleasantly situated, the streets spacious and level, the buildings mostly in the Spanish style and the country round about, beautiful. I could be well contented to live there provided you were with me; it surpasses Georgetown. I was detained a day by some business, and at noon of the third day we mounted and left for home, reached Wistman's Ranch at three P. M., had a good dinner and rode on as far as Angelo's where we passed the night. We arrived at home at noon well pleased with our journey. . .We should think it terrible at home to start out on a ride of 50 or 60 miles on horseback, but here it is nothing. But let us talk of other matters. Our city has within a few days been visited by another large fire,^^ if anything more destructive than either of the preceding, and Mr. K.^® has for the third time been burnt out; fortunately I am too far out of town to apprehend much danger from such a calamity.
I have become so tired of my present life, I am up at daybreak . . . until nine or ten in the evening, as the Spanish say, "mucho trabajo en California" no music parties, no ladies, nothing of refinement.
Truly and sincerely yours, W.
San Francisco, July ist, 1850. DearV.
I have been much bothered and troubled with my business today, have been obliged to be down town all day, most of the time in the burnt district, the wind blowing a hurricane and the dust and ashes almost choking and blinding one. I breathed an anathema on California and its everlasting winds, shut my eyes and pushed on . . .
Yours sincerely, W.
