erience for me and
advised my acceptance. And so at twenty-two I became a Federal
officeholder. The commission from President Lincoln is the most
treasured feature of the incident. I learned some valuable lessons. The
honor was great and the position was responsible, but I soon felt
constrained to resign, to accept a place as quartermaster's clerk, where
I had more pay with more work. I was stationed at Fort Humboldt, where
Grant spent a few uncomfortable months in 1854. It was an experience
very different from any I had ever had. Army accounting is wholly unlike
civilian, books being dispensed with and accounts of all kinds being
made in quadruplicate. I shed quantities of red ink and made my monthly
papers appear well. I had no responsibility and obeyed orders, but I
could not be wholly comfortable when I covered in all the grain that
every mule was entitled to when I had judicial knowledge that he had
been turned out to grass. Nor could I believe that the full amount of
cordwood allowed officers was consumed when fires were infrequent. I was
only sure that it was paid for. Aside from these ethical informalities
the life was socially agreeable, and there is glamour in the military.
My period of service was not very long. My father had settled in San
Francisco and the family had joined him. I was lonely, and when my
friend, the new Superintendent of Indian Affairs, offered me employment
I forsook Fort Humboldt and took up my residence in the city by the
Golden Gate.

CHAPTER IV

THE REAL BRET HARTE

Before taking up the events related to my residence in San Francisco I
wish to give my testimony concerning Bret Harte, perhaps the most
interesting character associated with my sojourn in Humboldt. It was
before he was known to fame that I knew him; but I am able to correct
some errors that have been made and I believe can contribute to a more
just estimate of him as a literary artist and a man.

He has been misjudged as to character. He was a remarkable personality,
who interpreted an era of unusual interest, vital and picturesque, with
a result unparalleled in literary annals. When he died in England in
1902 the English papers paid him very high tribute. The _London
Spectator_ said of him: "No writer of the present day has struck so
powerful and original a note as he has sounded." This is a very unusual
acknowledgment from a source not given to the superlative, and fills us
with wonder as to what manner of m