A yellow clingstone grown by a Mr. Albright, Placerville, California.
In Placerville as in Angel's Camp, the evening promenade seems the most important event of the day.
A fierce storm arose the day before the start was to be made, and it fell heavier on the Placerville than on the other route.
Once there, we stopped for wind, then began to plow snow toward Placerville.
At Placerville, we struck the original gold-fields of California, and saw abundant evidences of past washings on all sides of us.
More than any other town, Placerville gave a suggestion of the olden times.
From San Andreas my objective point was Placerville, distant about forty-five miles.
In the mining days at Placerville there was no more redoubtable poker player in the county.
Placerville itself, in the then early spring, was one mass of perfect roses and foliage.
The second day arter I was changed to the Placerville route, thet woman comes outer the hotel above the stage-office.