anaheim-gazette 1909-08-26

GOLDEN AGE OF THE HERDS GRAPHIC ACCOUNT OF TIME WHEN SPANIARDS OWNED CALIFORNIA Henry Tinsley Writes Thrilling Account of the Time Antedating Arrival of the Gringoes—Fourteen Families All of Southern California—Happy Times in the Early Days In the passing of Jose Dolores Palomares in Lordsburg on August 3, the last of the second generation of a very interesting old Spanish family in this region has gone into history. Mr. Palomares was a nephew of the founder of the great Palomares family in this region. His uncle, Ignacio Palomares, was once the owner of all the broad acres reaching from west of San Dimas to the east, close to what is now Ontario, and from close to the mountains south to the foothills. What is now the city of Pomona and the city of Claremont, Lordsburg and San Dimas—way on to Charter Oak—was the property of Ignacio Palomares, when Jose D. Palomares was a lad. The Mexican government gave away literally all of California in land grants to men who had fought for Mexico in the war for liberty from the parent country of Spain. Pio Pico, the last governor of Mexico in California, at the time of Uncle Sam's war with Mexico, in 1848, was given 47,000 acres of land where Santa Monica, Hollywood and Los Angeles now stand. The deceased Jose Palomares used to tell of those idyllic days of his youth, long before any American was seen in California and when the universal tongue was Spanish, when exactly fourteen Spanish families ruled of horn. He it was that made possible that idyllic life so charmingly told about in the stories of pre-American times in Southern California, when few worked, because it was really unnecessary, but put in most of their time taking life easy and unconsciously making a historical background for future effects in fiction. The steer it was who laid the foundations for colossal fortunes. What the Yankees made later out of the greatest money making industries of the West could hardly be called an industry, as it was managed in the days of the Spanish regime in California. To a people constitutionally tired, herds of cattle were practically adapted. It required hard ships and toll to seek precious ores in the mountains, remote from home and all its attractions, and it was work to till the soil. To own a big herd of cattle that would multiply and care for itself, requiring no attention excepting at the yearly rodeo or roundup—that was the only way to make money and live like a gentleman. So the Spanish Californians raised cattle in such numbers that, owing to the limited market, the possession by an individual of more than a few thousand herd was of no particular benefit, except to brag about. There were then two classes of people in California; those who had something and were satisfied, and those who had nothing and were satisfied. If a man had 5000 head of cattle he was practically as wealthy as his neighbor, with 25,000, for neither could find a market for more than a limited amount of the product of his herds. Thus, the cattle owner, being independent and on an equal footing with his neighbor was happy; and the peon, being dependent upon his padrone for a living, and being assured of that had nothing to worry about and was happy also. It was, When Chil from the parent country of Spain. Pio Pico, the last governor of Mexico in California, at the time of Uncle Sam's war with Mexico, in 1848, was given 47,000 acres of land where Santa Monica, Hollywood and Los Angeles now stand. The deceased Jose Palomares used to tell of those idyllic days of his youth, long before any American was seen in California and when the universal tongue was Spanish, when exactly fourteen Spanish families ruled all the territory south of the Tehachepi mountains, when there were no banks and few stores in Los Angeles, and at San Gabriel, when the Spanish drove their immense herds of cattle annually to the port at San Pedro and sold to the Yankee traders on ships for thousands of dollars in gold. Jose Palomares, who was buried from the St. Joseph's Catholic church, loved to recall the days of his boyhood, when his uncle had an income of $40,000 to $60,000 a year from his herds. The marvelous invasion of California obliterated one of the most unique pastoral epochs ever known. The passing of the herds and the death of the remnants of Spanish families in this State, closes a chapter in the story of some of the most interesting people who ever dwelt under the Stars and Stripes. The old Spanish mansions have fallen into disgraceful ruins, the fortunes long-ago disappeared and the immense areas of land have been divided and subdivided time again, and are now occupied by unromantic, aggressive Americans. How true is the statement, three generations from shirt sleeves to shirt sleeves. The Golden age of the herds and prosperous Spanish life in California was from 1830 to 1845. It was the time when Richard Henry Dana visited the Pacific Coast and the life that he told about in his "Two Years Before the Mast." The Spanish owned nearly two-thirds of the whole state, having secured it by concessions from the Mexican government upon the secularization of the even greater holdings of the Franciscan missions from San Diego to Oregon. Altogether, the American population in California comprised some 3000, and they lived in the pueblos of San Diego, Monterey, Santa Cruz and San Francisco. Very few Americans owned any grazing land then. There were many Spanish families that owned 40,000 acres from the parent country of Spain. Pio Pico, the last governor of Mexico in California, at the time of Uncle Sam's war with Mexico, in 1848, was given 47,000 acres of land where Santa Monica, Hollywood and Los Angeles now stand. The deceased Jose Palomares used to tell of those idyllic days of his youth, long before any American was seen in California and when the universal tongue was Spanish, when exactly fourteen Spanish families ruled all the territory south of the Tehachepi mountains, when there were no banks and few stores in Los Angeles, and at San Gabriel, when the Spanish drove their immense herds of cattle annually to the port at San Pedro and sold to the Yankee traders on ships for thousands of dollars in gold. Jose Palomares, who was buried from the St. Joseph's Catholic church, loved to recall the days of his boyhood, when his uncle had an income of $40,000 to $60,000 a year from his herds. The marvelous invasion of California obliterated one of the most unique pastoral epochs ever known. The passing of the herds and the death of the remnants of Spanish families in this State, closes a chapter in the story of some of the most interesting people who ever dwelt under the Stars and Stripes. The old Spanish mansions have fallen into disgraceful ruins, the fortunes long-ago disappeared and the immense areas of land have been divided and subdivided time again, and are now occupied by unromantic, aggressive Americans. How true is the statement, three generations from shirt sleeves to shirt sleeves. The Golden age of the herds and prosperous Spanish life in California was from 1830 to 1845. It was the time when Richard Henry Dana visited the Pacific Coast and the life that he told about in his "Two Years Before the Mast." The Spanish owned nearly two-thirds of the whole state, having secured it by concessions from the Mexican government upon the secularization of the even greater holdings of the Franciscan missions from San Diego to Oregon. Altogether, the American population in California comprised some 3000, and they lived in the pueblos of San Diego, Monterey, Santa Cruz and San Francisco. Very few Americans owned any grazing land then. There were many Spanish families that owned 40,000 acres from the parent country of Spain. Pio Pico, the last governor of Mexico in California, at the time of Uncle Sam's war with Mexico, in 1848, was given 47,000 acres of land where Santa Monica, Hollywood and Los Angeles now stand. The deceased Jose Palomares used to tell of those idyllic days of his youth, long before any American was seen in California and when the universal tongue was Spanish, when exactly fourteen Spanish families ruled all the territory south of the Tehachepi mountains, when there were no banks and few stores in Los Angeles, and at San Gabriel, when the Spanish drove their immense herds of cattle annually to the port at San Pedro and sold to the Yankee traders on ships for thousands of dollars in gold. Jose Palomares, who was buried from the St. Joseph's Catholic church, loved to recall the days of his boyhood, when his uncle had an income of $40,000 to $60,000 a year from his herds. The marvelous invasion of California obliterated one of the most unique pastoral epochs ever known. The passing of the herds and the death of the remnants of Spanish families in this State, closes a chapter in the story of some of the most interesting people who ever dwelt under the Stars and Stripes. The old Spanish mansions have fallen into disgraceful ruins, the fortunes long-ago disappeared and the immense areas of land have been divided and subdivided time again, and are now occupied by unromantic, aggressive Americans. How true is the statement, three generations from shirt sleeves to shirt sleeves. The Golden age of the herds and prosperous Spanish life in California was from 1830 to 1845. It was the time when Richard Henry Dana visited the Pacific Coast and the life that he told about in his "Two Years Before the Mast." The Spanish owned nearly two-thirds of the whole state, having secured it by concessions from the Mexican government upon the secularization of the even greater holdings of the Franciscan missions from San Diego to Oregon. Altogether, the American population in California comprised some 3000, and they lived in the pueblos of San Diego, Monterey, Santa Cruz and San Francisco. Very few Americans owned any grazing land then. There were many Spanish families that owned 40,000 acres from the parent country of Spain. Pio Pico, the last governor of Mexico in California, at the time of Uncle Sam's war with Mexico, in 1848, was given 47,000 acres of land where Santa Monica, Hollywood and Los Angeles now stand. The deceased Jose Palomares used to tell of those idyllic days of his youth, long before any American was seen in California and when the universal tongue was Spanish, when exactly fourteen Spanish families ruled all the territory south of the Tehachepi mountains, when there were no banks and few stores in Los Angeles, and at San Gabriel, when the Spanish drove their immense herds of cattle annually to the port at San Pedro and sold to the Yankee traders on ships for thousands of dollars in gold. Jose Palomares, who was buried from the St. Joseph's Catholic church, loved to recall the days of his boyhood, when his uncle had an income of $40,000 to $60,000 a year from his herds. The marvelous invasion of California obliterated one of the most unique pastoral epochs ever known. The passing of the herds and the death of the remnants of Spanish families in this State, closes a chapter in the story of some of the most interesting people who ever dwelt under the Stars and Stripes. The old Spanish mansions have fallen into disgraceful ruins, the fortunes long-ago disappeared and the immense areas of land have been divided and subdivided time again, and are now occupied by unromantic, aggressive Americans. How true is the statement, three generations from shirt sleeves to shirt sleeves. The Golden age of the herds and prosperous Spanish life in California was from 1830 to 1845. It was the time when Richard Henry Dana visited the Pacific Coast and the life that he told about in his "Two Years Before the Mast." The Spanish owned nearly two-thirds of the whole state, having secured it by concessions from the Mexican government upon the secularization of the even greater holdings ofthe Franciscan missions from San Diego to Oregon. Altogether,the American population in California comprised some 3000,and they lived inthe pueblosofSanDiego,Monterey,SantaCruzandSanFrancisco.Very fewAmericansownedanygrazinglandthen.ThereweremanySpanishfamiliesthatowned40，000acresfromtheparentcountryofSpain. Pio Pico,thelast GovernorofMexicoinCaliforniaatthetimeofUncleSam'swarwithMexicoin1848wasgiven47，000acresnobanksfewstoresinLosAngelesandatSanGabrielwhentheSpanishdrovetheirimmenseherdsofcattleannuallytotheportatSanPedroandsoldtotheYankeestradersonshipsforthousandsofdollarsinGoldenageoftheherdsandprosperousSpanishlifeinCaliforniawasfrom1830to1845.itwasthetimewhenRichardHenryDanavisitedthePacificCoastandthelifethathetoldaboutinhis"TwoYearsBeforetheMast."TheSpanishownednearlytwo-thirdsofwholestate,havingsecureditbyconcessionsfromtheMexicangovementuponthesecularizationoftheevengreaterholdingsoftheFranciscanmissionsfromSanDiegotoOregon.Alttogether,theAmericanpopulationinCaliforniacomprisedsome3000,andtheylivedinthepueblosofSanDiego,Monterey,SantaCruzandSanFrancisco.VeryfewAmericansownedanygrazinglandthen.ThereweremanySpanishfamiliesthatowned40，000acresfromtheparentcountryofSpain. nearly two-thirds of the whole state, having secured it by concessions from the Mexican government upon the secularization of the even greater holdings of the Franciscan missions from San Diego to Oregon. Altogether, the American population in California comprised some 3000, and they lived in the pueblos of San Diego, Monterey, Santa Cruz and San Francisco. Very few Americans owned any grazing land then. There were many Spanish families that owned 40,000 acres of grazing land, some that owned 75,000 acres of grazing land, and a few that owned even 120,000 acres. Four Spanish families owned some 14 square miles of fertile soil in the San Joaquin valley, and they got it all merely for their services in the Mexican war for independence from Spain. The Spanish, with their herds and famous stretches of fertile soil, were the most independent people alive. Each family lived in a sort of pastoral barony, dreaming in a soft climate, under cerulean skies, and amid more than plenty, practically cut off from the rest of the busy, ambitious world. No less a person than Charles Dudley Warner has said that the days of the herds and Spanish life in California were the most picturesque history. In those days the rollicking steer was a mighty factor in affairs for he was about the only visible means of support of his ease-loving generous, and dreamy Spanish owner, for several generations of the Spanish and their descendents failed to take advantage of the agricultural resources of the new El Dorado except in a very limited and listless way. The history of the California "beef critter" is an interesting one. He came in with the Franciscan missionaries in the latter part of the eighteenth century, and with the waxing of his numbers, grew wild and long of how he sold 4000 of the best cattle he ever raised in Los Angeles county in 1846 for just $3 a head and how the beeves were driven out to San Pedro and killed merely for their hides and tallow, which a Yankee shi owner bought and took back to Boston from San Pedro. The hides were taken on shipboard, the tallow was tried out, and the horns were saved, and over a million pounds of beef were thrown into the canyon some miles from the city for coyotes and bears to feed on, and to rot. To this day there are a few carloads of white bleached beef bones still remaining there on the rocks and among the boulders to tell the tale of the waste. Somewhat similar and reliable stories are told of nearly every shipping point in California in the forties and fifties. As late as 1864 there was occasional great mortality among the cattle on account of drought. In 1865 Los Angeles county alone lost 70,000 head from this cause, and in 1864 nearly half the native stock died, having undergone great privation on account of the heavy frosts during the winter of 1862-63. The manner of life and of doing business among the Spanish cattle kings in their halcyon days of prosperity were unlike any other cattlemen ever knew. Book accounts were rarely kept, and, except when the annual rodeo took place, not the least attention was given to the increase in the herds. No ranchers ever gave any study of the market conditions before disposing of his cattle. When the family purse was empty, when a daughter was to be promised with a dowry or a son must have money to pay his gambling debts in San Francisco or Sacramento, the vaqueros were sent out, and a herd of long-horned stews were driven to the seaboard to exchange for the Yan- ANAHEIM GAZETTE kee or English sailor's gold. There was no bargaining as to price. Life was too short for that, and the brusque, commercial manner of the buyer was distasteful to the Spanish seller. Besides, the cattleman knew he had a vast number of such steers back in the country. A score or more novels have been built on the picturesque life among the rich Spanish in the flush days of their herds and a vast number of short stories and poems have partaken of the social and domestic coloring of those days. There was probably never anywhere in the whole world such hospitality as the homes of the Spanish offered previous to the early sixties. General John C. Fremont and Gen. W. T. Sherman have each written that it was a common thing for an agreeable stranger, who was a gentleman, to travel from Oregon to Arizona—a distance of some 1300 miles—and be provided with all the comforts and attention of a home, with horses and attendants and without so much as a dime in pocket or no introduction, because of the generosity and cordiality of the Spanish families. There are hundreds of early pioneers now in California who tell of having visited at a Spanish ranchero for several weeks at a time when they were broke, and when they could not speak a word of Spanish or hold any conversation with the numerous hosts and hostesses.—Henry Tinsley in Pomona Review. When Children Smoked. In the seventeenth century in England the practice of juvenile smoking was almost universal, at least according to Jorevin de Rochefort, a French traveler of that period. In an account published in 1671 he gives a description of an evening he spent in Worceshire. HOOKING ALLIGATORS. A Florida Sport With an Element of Uncertainty In It. "Hunting alligators at night with a bullseye lantern and shotgun is tame sport compared with what is called a gator hunt in Florida," said an old Floridian who is visiting New York. "I mean the feat of capturing an alligator alive and then towing the fellow to high ground through mud and water from what is called in Florida a gator hole. "The gator fishermen first find the hole, which is indicated by an opening in the surrounding grass in the midst of a dense growth of vegetation, where the ground is worn smooth by the alligator in his pulls in and out. Sometimes these gator holes are in the nature of a cave in the bank of a stream and may be fifteen or twenty feet deep, and if so it is not an easy matter to get the animal out. "The fisher is supplied with a long pole with a metal hook on the end. He takes a strong rope and throws it about the entrance of the hole. Then the fisher rams with the hooked pole down the den and walts and listens. If he finds a gator in the hole he teases the beast by poking him until the gator in a rage finally grabs the hooked pole and is pulled from the den. It is with uncertainty that he is dragged forth, for it is not known whether the catch is large or small. The fisher does not know whether to get into shape to run or to fight. Out the gator comes, bellowing and roaring mad. "After the gator is dragged to the surface he in his rage turns and rolls and finally twists himself up in the rope or noose that has been previously prepared. With the assistance of the others in the party the gator's legs and mouth are tied and the gator is a prisoner. "The gator is for the most part caught in marshes where the ground is soft and slushy and too wet for either horse or wagon to enter. The fishers are compelled to carry their catch to ONE OYSTER ENOUGH. He Swallowed It Alive and Had to Kill It After It Was Down. A farm laborer from the interior on his first visit to London dropped into a small oyster shop where a number of men were eating raw oysters. The extreme satisfaction displayed on the faces of those about him created longings of a gustatory nature in the new arrival, who edged his way up to the counter in anticipation of eating a real live, juley oyster. It was the first time he had seen an oyster, and he became at once interested, and when the shellfish had been finally uncased he proceeded to balance it on the end of his fork, then, with a look of extreme satisfaction, gulped it down. "Great Scott!" shouted a man standing near him. "You haven't swallowed the oyster alive, have you?" There was a horrible pause. "That critter will eat right through you!" shouted another. By this time the poor countryman was shaking with fear and horror. He commenced to have terrible pains in his abdomen and was soon doubled up in his agony. He begged, some one to go for a doctor to get the thing out. He continued to grow worse, when some one suggested that he take a dose of tabasco sauce, which it was claimed would kill the object that was creating such terrible commotion in his internal arrangement. He grasped the bottle with avidity and took a draft. His condition, which before had been alarming to the victim, now assumed a serious phase to the perpetrators of the hoax. The man gasped and choked. He became black in the face, and tears were running down his face, when some one thrust a bottle of oil into his mouth, and he was forced to drink copious drafts. The effect was magical: The oyster was evidently "dead." He became more composed, and when he finally recovered his breath he said: "We killed it. But when that darned stuff got into my stomach that oys When Children Smoked. In the seventeenth century in England the practice of juvenile smoking was almost universal, at least according to Jorevin de Rochefort, a French traveler of that period. In an account published in 1671 he gives a description of an evening he spent in Worcester. He was catechized by one of the townsmen as to the habits of the French people. "While we were walking about the town," he writes, "he asked me if it was the custom in France as in England that when the children went to school they carried in their satchel with their books a pipe of tobacco, which their mother took care to fill early in the morning, it serving them instead of breakfast, and that at the accustomed hour every one laid aside his book to light his pipe, the master smoking with them and teaching them how to hold their pipes and draw in their tobacco, thus accustoming them to it from their youths, believing it absolutely necessary for a man's health." Dobbin's Journey. The family horse, who rejoiced in the eminently proper equine name of Dobbin, had earned a rest by long service and was accordingly sent away to the country to spend his declining years in the broad pastures of a farmer friend of his owner. The distance being somewhat excessive for his rheumatic legs, he was shipped to his new home by rail. Little Edna, the family four-year-old, viewed the passing of Dobbin with unfeigned sorrow. She sat for a long time gazing disconsolately out of the window. At last, after a deep sigh, she turned with a more cheerful expression and said: "Did old Dobbin go on the choochoo cars, mamma?" "Yes, dear," answered her mother. A broad grin spread over the little girl's face. "I was just thinking," she said, "how funny he must feel sitting up on the plush cushions."—Woman's Home Companion. No Business Good Business. "Yes," said the quiet man, "business has been good with me this week—or bad—I don't know which you would call it. I have been busier than the company likes to have me." "What do you mean by that? Is there an employer who does not like to have his employees work? Could I get a job there? It seems to me that such a position would suit my temperament exactly." "The company doesn't care to have anything doing in my department." Unconscious Worry. Born of the Habit of Taking Things Too Seriously. A great many people worry unconsciously, says O. S. Marden in Success Magazine. They don't understand why they are so tired in the morning, why their sleep was so disturbed and troubled. This mental disturbance is often caused by the habit of taking things too seriously, carrying too great a weight of responsibility. Everywhere we see people who take life too seriously. Most of us are like the motorman who not only starts and stops the car and tries to keep from running over people, but also feels tremendous anxiety and responsibility about the motive power. One of the most helpful lessons life can impart is that which shows us how to do our work as well as it can be done and then let principle take care of the result. How often have we been amazed to find things come out much better than we anticipated; to find that the great unseen power that governs our lives through a wilderness of trial and tribulation into the open has guided our life ship through the fogs of difficulties and of sorrow, through storms of hardships and losses, safely into port. The pilot does not lose heart when he cannot see his way. He turns to that mysterious compass which sees as plainly in the fog and guides as faithfully in the tempests as when the sea is like glass. We are in touch with a power greater than any compass, greater than any pilot, a power that can extricate us from the most desperate situation. Family Floriculture. George Blank, the stage manager, is a lover of nature and a hater of overcoats and umbrellas. Recently during a violent rainstorm he called on his mother, entering her presence wringing wet. "George," said she firmly, "you ought not to expose yourself in such tim, now assumed a serious phase to the perpetrators of the hoax. The man gasped and choked. He became black in the face, and tears were running down his face, when some one thrust a bottle of oil into his mouth, and he was forced to drink copious drafts. The effect was magical. The oyster was evidently "dead." He became more composed, and when he finally recovered his breath he said: "We killed it. But when that darned stuff got into my stomach that oyster rushed around as if a shark was after it."—London Scraps. Spoiling the Show. Shownian—I don't know as we can give any kind of a show this afternoon. Assistant—What's the matter? Showman—That fresh kid's been in the cage of the man eating lion having a romp, and the critter is as playful as a kitten, the farmer we rented the sacred cow from India from says the money ain't payin' him for the loss of his milk route, and the wild man of Borneo says he's got to have a day off to register and see the police parade.—Baltimore American. Convincing His Chum. Johnny (in the garden)—Father, father, look out of the window! Father (putting out his head)—What a nuisance you children are! What do you want now? Johnny (with a triumphant glance at his playfellow)—Tommy Brooks wouldn't believe you'd got no hair on the top of your head.—London Tit-Bits. Only Lunch. "Have luncheon today?" "Nope." "Thought I saw you going out." "You did, but I had lunch, not luncheon. I only had 10 cents to spend."—Exchange. Let us not talk ill of our enemies. They only never deceive us—Hous-saye. No Business Good Business. "Yes," said the quiet man, "business has been good with me this week—or bad—I don't know which you would call it. I have been busier than the company likes to have me." "What do you mean by that? Is there an employer who does not like to have his employees work? Could I get a job there? It seems to me that such a position would suit my temperament exactly." "The company doesn't care to have anything doing in my department. It would be glad to pay me my salary and never have me do a stroke of work." "What an ideal job! What kind of a place is it?" "I am an adjuster of death claims for a life insurance company."—New York Press. Amateur Weather Prophets. "The old weather prophets there are left now," remarked a Cleveland lawyer who was raised in the country, "are professionals. The good old fashioned amateur weather prophets that could tell you what the next day would be like just by sniffing the atmosphere and looking at the sky are no more. People are growing up to depend on the weather reports in the newspapers, and they don't develop any intuition in that direction any more. When I was a kid I used to ask my father what the next day's weather would be with just as much feeling of confidence in what he would tell me as I would have in an unabridged dictionary if I wanted to look up a word. And, as a rule, I wasn't disappointed."—Cleveland Plain Dealer. A Queen's Critical Brother. Marie Antolnette's brother Joseph could not bear the rouge pot, and one evening when the queen was going out, being heavily rouged, the emperor was looking on. Pointing to a lady present who was excessively bedaubed with paint, Joseph remarked facetiously: "A little more under the eyes! Lay on the rouge like fury, as that lady does!"—Hassard's "Louis XVI." Family Floriculture. George Blank, the stage manager, is a lover of nature and a hater of overcoats and umbrellas. Recently during a violent rainstorm he called on his mother, entering her presence wringing wet. "George," said she firmly, "you ought not to expose yourself in such weather. You will get pneumonia." "But, mother," exclaimed George, with a theatrical wave of his hand, "why should I fear the rain? Does it not nurture the grass? Is it not life to the flowers?" "It is a long time," said the good woman, closing a window, "since you were a flower."—Success Magazine. Origin of the Word Academy. Academus was a wealthy Greek of Athens who lived several hundred years before the birth of Christ. Among his possessions was a beautiful grove, where young men used to congregate and listen to the teachings of wise men, such as Plato and Socrates. This developed into the school of modern times, and these modern schools take their name "academy" from the old Greek. Academus. The real meaning of the word academy is a school for boys. Sterilized. "Have you," inquired the city visitor, "a moss covered bucket about the place?" "No, sir," answered the farmer. "All our utensils are sterilized and strictly sanitary."—Kansas City Journal. No Danger. The Lady—I'd buy you a nice pearl handled knife for your birthday, but I'm superstitious. I'm afraid it would cut our friendship. The Man—Cheer up! No knife a woman buys could ever cut anything.—Cleveland Leader. ELY'S CREAM BALM Sure to Give Satisfaction. GIVES RELIEF AT ONCE. It cleanses, soothes, heals and protects the diseased membrane resulting from Catarrh and drives away a Cold in the Head quickly. Restores the Senses of Taste and Smell. Easy to use. Contains no injurious drugs Applied into the nostrils and absorbed. Large Size, 50 cents at Druggists or by mail. Liquid Cream Balm for use in atomizers, 75 cents. ELY BROTHERS, 56 Warren St., New York. I Will Give $1000 If I Fall to CURE any CANCER or TUMOR I TREAT BEFORE IT POSIONS DEEP BLANDS NO KNIFE or PAIN. No Pay until Cured. No X Ray or other swindle. An island plant makes the cures. Absolute Guarantee. Any Tumor, Lump or Sore on the lip, face or anywhere six months is Cancer. They never pain until last stage. 130-page book sent free with testimonials of thousands cured. WRITE TO THEM. ANY LUMP IN WOMAN'S BREAST IS CANCER and if neglected it will always poison deep glands in the armpit and kill quickly. Address DR. AND MRS. DR. CHAMLEY & CO. "Most Successful Cancer Specialists Living" 747 South Main St. LOS ANGELES, CA. Kindly Send to Some One with Cancer Powerful Power, Reliable Power, Plentiful Power, Electric Power. The Edison Electric Company, SANTA ANA, CAL. Phone, Sunset, Main 46. FICTION is FICTION NEWS IS TRUTH The GAZETTE Prints the News The GAZETTE Tells the Truth VICTOR MONTGOMERY ATTORNEY-AT-LAW Attention given to Probate Business Commercial Bank Building. Santa Ana Cal Tel. Black 791 au23-6m RICHARD MELROSE ATTORNEY-AT-LAW and NOTARY PUBLIC Office Center St Special attention given to Probate Matters ANAHEIM. - - - - CAL. H. V. WEISEL Attorney and Counselor at Law German Language Griffith Lumber Co. Agents for ORIENTAL PLASTER COLTON PORTLAND CEMENT LUMBER BRICKS ALL KINDS OF MILL WORK So. Los Angeles st. near S. P. depot RICHARD MELROSE ATTORNEY-AT-LAW and NOTARY PUBLIC Office Center St Special attention given to Probate Matters ANAHEIM. H. V. WEISEL Attorney and Counselor at Law German Language 2d Floor Mullinix Bldg.; Anaheim, Cal. DR. W. W. ADAMS OSTEOPATHIC PHYSICIAN Graduate of American School of Osteopathy of Kirksville, Mo. Office and Residence: 116 Philadelphia St. Office Hours: 10 to 12; 1 to 4. Phone No. Main 77 Residence Phone Main 42 Office Phones Main 1141-Home 1401 DR. JOHN H. BOEGE DENTIST Office, Mullinix Building HOURS 8:30 to 11:30 a.m. Evenings 1:30 to 5:00 p.m. W. Harold Wickett, M. D. Res. Phones, Main 8X3, Home 863. Herbert A. Johnston, M. D. Res. Phones, Main 82, Home 882. Drs. Johnston & Wickett Office Hours, 11-12, 2-4, 7-8. Office Phones, Main 61, Home 861. Offices, $10 B. Los Angeles Street. J. L. BEEBE, M. D. PHYSICIAN AND SURGEON. Office and res. cor. Center and Palm Sts Office hours: 2 to 4, 7 to 8 p.m. Both Phones. ANAHEIM, CAL. F. C. SPENCER ATTORNEY-AT-LAW Notary Public Odd Fellows' Block, Center Street Anaheim, Cal. EXCLUSIVE DESIGNS ORIENTAL PLASTER COLTON PORTLAND CEMENT LUMBER BRICKS ALL KINDS OF MILL WORK So. Los Angeles st. near S. P. depot Henry M. Adams, Mgr. B. Dause Dealer In all Kinds Of Warehouses And Custom Feed Mill in Connection Regular Mill Days, Mondays Wednesdays and Fridays. LOCATION—South of Sant Fe depot. Anaheim Bakery Peter Spre. Prop. Fresh Bread Cakes and Pies Confectionery, Etc. Wedding Cakes a Specialty Los Angeles and Cypress Sts. Business College SANTA ANA CALIFORNIA A school where progressive thought is merged with sound business sense. The only Commercial school in Orange county. Endorsed by Chamber of Commerce and Merchants and Manufacturers Association of Santa Ana, and leading business and professional men. Summer term of 8 weeks begins July 5 Individual instruction Our classrooms are cool and pleasant Cheap board—low tuition—catalogue free Cancer Cured Without Knife or Pain—No Pay Until Cured IN WOMAN'S BREAST ANY LUMP IS CANCER FREE BOOK—CURE YOURSELF AT HOME GREAM BALM Give Satisfaction. RELIEF AT ONCE. Hoses, heals and protects the mane resulting from Catarrh in the Head quickly. Denses of Taste and Smell. Contains no injurious drugs. Ne nostrils and absorbed. Cents at Druggists or by Cream Balm for use in pts. 56 Warren St., New York. Give $1000 E any CANCER or TUMOR IT POSIONS DEEP GLANDS AIN. cured. her island and cures. unteer. up or once or months never vantage, sent nomials ad. EM. IN WOMAN'S BREAST If neglected it will always bind in the armpit and kill us. S. DR. CHAMLEY & CO. Frugal Cancer Specialists Living" St. LOS ANGELES, CAL. Some One with Cancer EXCLUSIVE DESIGNS Wall Paper $1 00 buys enough Wall Paper for 12 ft. room —Sides, Ceiling and Border 10½c. for 36 inch Colored Burlap. 20c. for Sanitos Wall Oil Cloth. ALBERT L. WALTER 627 So. Spring St., Los Angeles JOSEPH BACKS, Undertaker and Embalmer Furniture and Bedding. Repairing Done Phones—Sunset M. 93. Home 1062. Base Ball Goods FISHING OUTFITS Etc., Etc., at SPOERL'S GUN STORE OLIVER HILL City Livery Stables Fashionable Outfits at Reasonable Rates. O. LAGMAN BUILDER and Graduated Architect Consult me if you are going to build. I will submit Plans and Specifications free of cost, and save you money. Cancer Cured Without Knife or Pain—No Pay Until Cured IN WOMAN'S BREAST ANY LUMP IS CANCER FREE BOOK—CURE YOURSELF AT HOME I WILL GIVE $1000 IF I FAIL TO CURE ANY CANCER I TREAT BEFORE IT POISONS DEEP GLANDS Without Knife or Pain, at Half Price for 30 days. Not a dollar need be paid until cured. Absolute Guarantee, 34 years' experience. MOTHER AND DAUGHTER CURED OF 3 BREAST CANCERS Dr. Chamley cured a large cancer in my breast at my home in 1899. Two years before that he cured my mother of large cancer in each breast. We have both been entirely well ever since. Mother and I together know of at least fifty of his almost miraculous cures. Dr. Chamley saved our lives and we will write to anyone wanting information about his wonderful painless treatment. Mrs. Arthur Balache, Vallejo, Cal. Others Cured in Your Vicinity Mrs. W. L. Borden, R.F.D. No.1, Long Beach, Cal., cancer of breast; well 14 years. Also mother, sister and sister-in-law, all cured of breast cancers. Mr. Buck, head gardener at Soldiers' Home, Sawtelle; cancer of face, well 15 years. Mrs. Win, L. O'Kelly, 940 E. 5th St., Long Beach, cancer of breast, well 10 years. E. U. Skidmore, Downey, cancer under tongue as large as hen egg; well 14 years. Mrs. Geo. H. Perry, 310 Third St., Santa Monica, cancer of breast, well 10 years. H. B. Rice, Compton, Los Angeles county, Cal., very large cancer wart on temple, well 15 years. Mrs. W. M. J. Ritcha, 9:5 Walnut St., Long Beach, cancer of breast, well 18 years. H. Terrel, Moneta, Los Angeles Co., large cancer of lip, well 14 years. SENT FREE to those who describe their cancer. Write for the book now. Cancer poisons DEEPER every day. Address DR. AND MRS. DR. CHAMLEY & CO. 247 S. Main St. Suite , Los Angeles, Cal.