of sand. A fine comradeship,
that, and one that never died.

Shirley, I should also mention, wrote some respectable poetry. I have
fondly preserved, treasured, and cherished the original manuscript of a
poem written by her at the time Margaret Fuller Ossoli was lost by
shipwreck in 1850. This poem was included in my collection of
California poetry, but was not printed in Outcroppings. I append it to
this paper, of which it can hardly be considered an essential part.

I married and went to the mines, and our home was on the Mariposa
Grant. We lived on a bed of gold. Once, upon a visit to the city, I
found Shirley nervous and worn. Her vacation was about to begin. She
went home with me, and stayed in bed the first three days. Then she was
daily swung in a hammock under an oak. Soon we had horseback-rides, and
up the creek she again panned out gold. Later we set out in the
stage-coach for the hotel at the big Mariposa Grove. Mr. Lawrence put
us in charge of Mr. Galen Clark, a rare scholar, and the guardian of
the Big Tree Grove and of the Yosemite Valley. This charming man was
much interested in Shirley. From the hotel we took daily rides with him
through the great forest, and then made the twenty-five-mile
horseback-ride and found Mr. James M. Hutchings, of the Illustrated
California Magazine, awaiting us at the entrance to the valley. He
escorted us to his picturesque hotel, where he and his interesting wife
made our three weeks' stay most delightful. Down in the meadows we came
upon John Muir sawing logs. He dropped his work, and we three went
botanizing, and soon were learning all about the valley's formation as
he entrancingly talked. We met many tourists of distinction, and
Shirley forgot that she ever had a care, and on our way back she
galloped along recklessly.

At our home in Mariposa we invited friends to come and enjoy Shirley's
Shakespearean readings, chiefly comedy. In these Mr. Lawrence had a
happy part.

In time Shirley went to New York, to her niece, Genevieve Stebbins, who
was successful in a delightful line of art-work. Before leaving San
Francisco, her faithful pupils and other friends gave a musicale and
realized about two thousand dollars, which was presented her as a
loving gift. In the great metropolis her genius was recognized soon
after her arrival, and she was importuned to give lectures on art and
literature. The Field family, who delightedly discovered her, took her
to Europe, where she v