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Browsing named entities in William Hepworth Dixon, White Conquest: Volume 1.

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Tavernier (search for this): chapter 3
future oak. Two foreign artists come into these parts. For what? To grow their beards, to bronze their cheeks, to shake the dust of Paris from their feet. A gay Bohemian circle welcomes them to San Francisco; where a man may smoke and laugh, sitting over his cakes and ale, into those mystic hours which brush away the bloom from youthful cheeks. This circle gives them Mont Parnasse; but they are born for higher flights than Mont Parnasse. Donning their Indian pants and jackets, Monsieur Tavernier grasps his sketch-book, Signor Franzeny loads his gun. Each has an eye for nature, and observes her moods with care; noting how sunlight plays with colour in the sea, and how metallic veins add lustre to the earth. Seeking for beauty, they find a seam of coal. These young adventurers are tapping at the mountain side, assisted by some friends from San Francisco, trusting that the seams will float into their trucks and sheds. If so, a street will ramble down this slope, with city-h
Capitan Carlos (search for this): chapter 3
ork and daring deed. Bad roads down here ? we ask, on gathering up the reins. Bad roads! Ah, never mind, Sefior. Go on --you'll find them worse-good bye! Tearing through scrub and grass, we rattle down the slope in search of a ford; now startling a hawk-owl from his perch, anon drawing up to bang at snipe or teal. We reach the stream that ought to be the Kishon, here a broad and shallow river, rippling over beds of sand, and whispering to an angler of abundant trout. When Capitan Carlos was a buck of sixty, Rio Carmelo fed the mission and the tribe; but now no line is dropped into the flood for trout, no snare is drawn across the ford for duck. All nature at Carmelo runs to waste. Crossing the ford and climbing up the slopes towards Monte Carmelo, we crash our way through trough and tangle, swarm up ridge and rock, each moment getting deeper in the wood and higher on the range, until we catch, some height above our heads, an opening in the mountain side. There lie
Mont Parnasse (search for this): chapter 3
of Paris from their feet. A gay Bohemian circle welcomes them to San Francisco; where a man may smoke and laugh, sitting over his cakes and ale, into those mystic hours which brush away the bloom from youthful cheeks. This circle gives them Mont Parnasse; but they are born for higher flights than Mont Parnasse. Donning their Indian pants and jackets, Monsieur Tavernier grasps his sketch-book, Signor Franzeny loads his gun. Each has an eye for nature, and observes her moods with care; noting Mont Parnasse. Donning their Indian pants and jackets, Monsieur Tavernier grasps his sketch-book, Signor Franzeny loads his gun. Each has an eye for nature, and observes her moods with care; noting how sunlight plays with colour in the sea, and how metallic veins add lustre to the earth. Seeking for beauty, they find a seam of coal. These young adventurers are tapping at the mountain side, assisted by some friends from San Francisco, trusting that the seams will float into their trucks and sheds. If so, a street will ramble down this slope, with city-halls, hotels, and banks. A school may occupy that copse, a jail adorn this rising ground. New comers will be welcome to the Carmelo
Signor Franzeny (search for this): chapter 3
nto these parts. For what? To grow their beards, to bronze their cheeks, to shake the dust of Paris from their feet. A gay Bohemian circle welcomes them to San Francisco; where a man may smoke and laugh, sitting over his cakes and ale, into those mystic hours which brush away the bloom from youthful cheeks. This circle gives them Mont Parnasse; but they are born for higher flights than Mont Parnasse. Donning their Indian pants and jackets, Monsieur Tavernier grasps his sketch-book, Signor Franzeny loads his gun. Each has an eye for nature, and observes her moods with care; noting how sunlight plays with colour in the sea, and how metallic veins add lustre to the earth. Seeking for beauty, they find a seam of coal. These young adventurers are tapping at the mountain side, assisted by some friends from San Francisco, trusting that the seams will float into their trucks and sheds. If so, a street will ramble down this slope, with city-halls, hotels, and banks. A school may oc
Maria! what are men to do? We have to buy our wives. To buy their wives! Yes, buy their wives. It is a custom of the country. The habit of buying and selling young women has existed on this spot time out of mind. If young women are not bought they are always stolen, and the man is thought a decent wooer who comes with money in his pocket to an Indian lodge. No Rumsen or Tularenos ever gave away his squaw for love. He sold her as he sold a buffalo hide or catamount skin. Fray Junipero tried to stop this sale of girls, but his successors winked at customs which they had no means of putting down. Castro and Alvaredo hoped to crush this traffic, but their secular energies were worsted in the vain attempt. Neither Liberal Mexico nor Independent California was equal to the task of wrestling with this evil. Indians sold their children to Spanish dons and Mexican caballeros, just as Georgians and Circassians sold their girls to Greek skippers and Turkish pashas. Even unde
South San Jose Creek (California, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
ide, assisted by some friends from San Francisco, trusting that the seams will float into their trucks and sheds. If so, a street will ramble down this slope, with city-halls, hotels, and banks. A school may occupy that copse, a jail adorn this rising ground. New comers will be welcome to the Carmelo mountains. and the White family will have gained another stronghold on the Slope. A steep and winding track leads down from the ridges of Mount Carmelo to Carmelo Bay. On crossing San Jose Creek, we catch the cry of birds and seals, now and then broken by the bark of sea-lions. A cove with curious port lies in our front. No ships are in the road; no docks, no piers, no landing stairs are visible; yet the place must be a port. Five or six boats are bobbing on the tide; strong six-oared boats, not built for gliding over lakes and pools. Still larger craft are beached ill crevices of sand and rock. Half-naked men are toiling on the shore. Some sheds lie in the shadow of a gra
Department de Ville de Paris (France) (search for this): chapter 3
rmelo, we crash our way through trough and tangle, swarm up ridge and rock, each moment getting deeper in the wood and higher on the range, until we catch, some height above our heads, an opening in the mountain side. There lie the lodes; there run the seams of coal. Yon cleft, to which no native climbs, conceals a future town, just as this acorn hides a future oak. Two foreign artists come into these parts. For what? To grow their beards, to bronze their cheeks, to shake the dust of Paris from their feet. A gay Bohemian circle welcomes them to San Francisco; where a man may smoke and laugh, sitting over his cakes and ale, into those mystic hours which brush away the bloom from youthful cheeks. This circle gives them Mont Parnasse; but they are born for higher flights than Mont Parnasse. Donning their Indian pants and jackets, Monsieur Tavernier grasps his sketch-book, Signor Franzeny loads his gun. Each has an eye for nature, and observes her moods with care; noting how su
Mexico (Mexico) (search for this): chapter 3
Tularenos ever gave away his squaw for love. He sold her as he sold a buffalo hide or catamount skin. Fray Junipero tried to stop this sale of girls, but his successors winked at customs which they had no means of putting down. Castro and Alvaredo hoped to crush this traffic, but their secular energies were worsted in the vain attempt. Neither Liberal Mexico nor Independent California was equal to the task of wrestling with this evil. Indians sold their children to Spanish dons and Mexican caballeros, just as Georgians and Circassians sold their girls to Greek skippers and Turkish pashas. Even under the Stars and Stripes, and in a region governed by American law, the trade goes on; less openly and briskly than in olden times; but still the Red man's daughters are bought and sold, even in the neighbourhood of American courts. It is a custom of the country, which, like other maladies, attacks the stranger when he lands. You catch a local custom very much as you catch a loc
California (California, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
en, and the man is thought a decent wooer who comes with money in his pocket to an Indian lodge. No Rumsen or Tularenos ever gave away his squaw for love. He sold her as he sold a buffalo hide or catamount skin. Fray Junipero tried to stop this sale of girls, but his successors winked at customs which they had no means of putting down. Castro and Alvaredo hoped to crush this traffic, but their secular energies were worsted in the vain attempt. Neither Liberal Mexico nor Independent California was equal to the task of wrestling with this evil. Indians sold their children to Spanish dons and Mexican caballeros, just as Georgians and Circassians sold their girls to Greek skippers and Turkish pashas. Even under the Stars and Stripes, and in a region governed by American law, the trade goes on; less openly and briskly than in olden times; but still the Red man's daughters are bought and sold, even in the neighbourhood of American courts. It is a custom of the country, which, li
San Francisco (California, United States) (search for this): chapter 3
a future town, just as this acorn hides a future oak. Two foreign artists come into these parts. For what? To grow their beards, to bronze their cheeks, to shake the dust of Paris from their feet. A gay Bohemian circle welcomes them to San Francisco; where a man may smoke and laugh, sitting over his cakes and ale, into those mystic hours which brush away the bloom from youthful cheeks. This circle gives them Mont Parnasse; but they are born for higher flights than Mont Parnasse. Donnin care; noting how sunlight plays with colour in the sea, and how metallic veins add lustre to the earth. Seeking for beauty, they find a seam of coal. These young adventurers are tapping at the mountain side, assisted by some friends from San Francisco, trusting that the seams will float into their trucks and sheds. If so, a street will ramble down this slope, with city-halls, hotels, and banks. A school may occupy that copse, a jail adorn this rising ground. New comers will be welcome
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