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did not understana, as the father said—set out for CaHfornia overland and after trying his fortune unsuccessfully at Placerville, then Hangtown, he continued his journey and arrived at Sacramento in the midst of the cholera season of the autumn of 1850. The streets, swarming with teams loaded and loading, presented to one just from the lonely dusty plain a stirring scene, and the hotels, taverns, and gambling saloons were so much to his liking that he concluded to settle there.

He had been educated by his father for the presidency of the United States, and as he had understood that it was necessary to undergo certain routine before seating himself in the White House, he determined now to adopt the profession of politics, whereupon he ratified his determination by taking a drink. Selling the poor mule that had carried him from the Mississippi river, the proceeds of which constituted his entire capital, he chose a hotel on a par with his pretensions, and after a substantial luncheon he bethought him of letters from home, and started for the postoffice.

The steamer had lately arrived, and at the window was a line of one hundred and fifty or two hundred men, at the foot of which he was obliged to take his place and wait his turn. It was a tedious process, standing and stepping at long intervals, as one after another was served. The sun poured down hot, and the young scapegrace, feverish and thirsty from his fatiguing journey, hailed a passing watermelon cart, and bought and ate, and bought another and another. Thus in due time he reached the window but found no letters.

To console himself for the loss of so much time and the attending disappointment, he treated himself to a glass of brandy and water, and as it pleased him he took another. This caused him to feel so well that he concluded to take several more so that he might feel better; in fact he would feel his best.

Brandy in doses sufficiently strong and frequent,