very childish and ignorant,
vindictive, narrow, and so extremely clannish and tenacious of their own
opinions that they were always an exasperating element to be reckoned
with, in any public matter. We saw also a compact little group of dark
small men, with bright eyes and quick manners. They held close together
and chattered like a lot of magpies. McNally, who had spotted us from
afar, informed us that these were "keskydees," and that they always did
stick close together.

"What are 'keskydees'?" I asked him.

"That's what everybody calls them," said McNally. "I suppose it's
because they always say it, 'Keskydee, keskydee,' like a lot of
chickadees."

"French!" cried Johnny, suddenly enlightened. "_Q'estce qu'il
dit._"

"Yes, that's it," agreed McNally; "keskydee. What does it mean, anyway?"

"What is he saying," translated Johnny.

At this time there were a great many French in California; and for a
number of years I could not quite understand why. Then I learned that
most of them were prize winners in a series of lotteries, called the
Lotteries of the Golden Ingot. The prizes were passages to California,
and the lotteries were very popular. The French, or keskydees, as they
were universally called, always went about in gangs, while the other
nationalities were more inclined to amalgamate with the rest of the
community. We saw, also, several "Dutch Charleys" who had struck it
rich. They were moon-faced, bland, chuckle-headed looking men, generally
with walrus moustaches, squat and heavy, with fatuous, placid smiles. I
suppose they had no real idea of values, but knew only the difference
between having money and not having money. These prosperous individuals
carried two or even more watches at the ends of long home-made chains
constructed of gold nuggets fastened together with lengths of copper
wire. The chains were looped around their necks, about their shoulders
and waists, and hung down in long festoons. We had three apparently, of
these Dutch Charleys, all deadly rivals in magnificence. They paraded
slowly up and down the street, quite satisfied with themselves, and
casting malevolent glances at each other when they passed.

The two gambling places and saloons were hard at it. The low rooms were
full of smoke, and crowded with slowly jostling men. In contrast to the
deadly quiet of such places in San Francisco, these were full of noise
and hubbub. The men moved restlessly, threw down their little bags of
d