TIONS

Life at the Mission of Dolores, 1855
View of Montgomery, Post and Market Streets, San Francisco, 1858
Fort Point at the Golden Gate
The Outer Signal Station at the Golden Gate
City of Oakland in 1856
Interior of the El Dorado
Warner's at Meigg's Wharf
The Old Flume at Black Point, 1856
Lone Mountain, 1856
Russ Gardens, 1856
Certificate of Membership, Vigilance Committee, 1856
West from Black Point, 1856
"China is Not More Chinese than this Section of Our Christian City."
"Rag Alley" in Old Chinatown
The Farallones
Murre on their Nests, Farallone Islands
Monterey, 1850
San Carlos de Carmelo
"The Huge Court of that Luxurious Caravansary."
"The Gallery Among the Huge Vases of Palms and Creepers."
Meigg's Wharf in 1856
Telegraph Hill, 1855
Sentinel Hotel, Yosemite, in 1869
San Francisco in 1856

THE BELLS OF SAN GABRIEL

Thine was the corn and the wine,
The blood of the grape that nourished;
The blossom and fruit of the vine
That was heralded far away.
These were thy gifts; and thine,
When the vine and the fig-tree flourished,
The promise of peace and of glad increase
Forever and ever and aye.
What then wert thou, and what art now?
Answer me, O, I pray!

And every note of every bell
Sang Gabriel! Rang Gabriel!
In the tower that is left the tale to tell
Of Gabriel, the Archangel.

Oil of the olive was thine;
Flood of the wine-press flowing;
Blood o' the Christ was the wine--
Blood o' the Lamb that was slain.
Thy gifts were fat o' the kine
Forever coming and going
Far over the hills, the thousand hills--
Their lowing a soft refrain.
What then wert thou, and what art now?
Answer me, once again!

And every note of every bell
Sang Gabriel! Rang Gabriel!
In the tower that is left the tale to tell
Of Gabriel, the Archangel.

Seed o' the corn was thine--
Body of Him thus broken
And mingled with blood o' the vine--
The bread and the wine of life;
Out of the good sunshine
They were given to thee as a token--
The body of Him, and the blood of Him,
When the gifts of God were rife.
What then wert thou, and what art now,
After the weary strife?

And every note of every b