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press, in which case, coming down on me from San Francisco “like a young giant refreshed with new wine," and finding (what he would consider) such abominable heresy in his col. umns, he would doubtless knock the whole matter into pi, and perhaps, in the extremity of his wrath, inflict some grievous bodily injury on me, all of which would be intensely disagreeable. Moved by these considerations, therefore, I shall let John Bigler entirely alone, and in case of his re-election, shall make a great merit of having done so, and apply to him immediately for a commission as Notary Public.
The great event of the past week has been the Fiesta at San Luis Rey.--Many of our citizens attended, and a very large number of native Californians and Indians collected from the various ranchos in the vicinity. High mass was celebrated in the old church on Thursday morning, an Indian baby was baptized, another nearly killed by being run over by an excited individual on an excited horse, and that day and the following, were passed in witnessing the absurd efforts of some twenty natives to annoy a number of tame bulls, with the tips of their horns cut off. This great national amusement, ironically termed bull-fighting, consists in waving a serape, or handkerchief, in front of the bull until he is sufficiently annoyed to run after his tormentor, when that individual gets out of his way, with great precipitation. The nights were passed in an equally intellectual manner.
The Phoenix Ticket” generally, appears to give general satisfaction. It was merely put forward suggestively, and not being the result of a clique or convention, the public are at perfect liberty to make such alterations or erasures as they
proper. I hope it may meet with a strong support on the day of election; but should it meet with defeat, I shall endeavor to bear the inevitable mortification that must result, with my usual equanimity.
Like unto the great Napoleon after the battle of Waterloo, or the magnanimous Boggs after his defeat, in the gubernatorial campaign of Missouri, I shall fold my arms with tranquillity, and say either" C'est fini," or Oh shaw, I know'd it !"
Though this is but my second bow to a San Diego audience, I presume it to be my last appearance and valedictory, for the editor will doubtless arrive before another week elapses the gun will be removed from my trembling grasp, and the Herald will resume its great aims, and heavy firing, and I hope will discharge its debt to the public with accuracy, and precision. Meanwhile “ The Lord be with you." "BE VIRTUOTS AND YOU WILL BE HAPPY."
We have received for publication, an article signed “LEONIDAS," from the pen of an old and esteemed friend of ours, intended to counteract the effect of our leader last week, which we should publish were it not for its length, and the rather strong style in which it is written. Many of
the principal points of " Leonidas' " opposition are removed in this issue of the paper, and we doubt if it would serve any useful purpose to publish extracts from his letter, or if he would be pleased with our doing so.
He winds up by exhorting the Democrats “ to keep together” (we hope they will, it would give us unfeigned regret to see any man explode or fall to pieces), and by calling us, indirectly, “a rabid Whig."
In this, “ Leonidas,” you are mistaken. Our ideas on political matters are precisely those of the lamented Joseph Bowers, who when running for the office of in the state of
was asked by the committee, “ Mr. Bowers, what are your politics ? " To which he replied, "Gentlemen, I have no politics "__"What," exclaimed the committee in surprise, —"no politics.” “No, gentlemen," rejoined the imperturbable Joseph, “not a d-d politic."
He was elected unanimously, as many of our readers from will doubtless remember, and we hope, should it ever come to pass, that we are a candidate for public office, we may meet with the like good fortune.
So farewell, oh Leonidas, we trust you are not yet“ boiling with indignation; ” but if unhappily that is the case, we can only placidly remark—- Boil on."
As an incident of the election we are told that late
in the afternoon an elderly gentleman, much overcome by excitement and spirituous potations, was found like Peter
“weeping bitterly," as he reclined on the cold cold ground, behind the Court House. “I'm an old man, gentlemen," sobbed he, “and a poor old man, and a d-d ugly old man, and I've gone and voted for Bigler !” “Well, you have done it,” remarked one of the crowd, and with this expression of sympathy, the unhappy old fellow was left to the. stings of his conscience. A melancholy instance of misplaced attachment.
A GAME OF POKER.-An Eastern paper mentions the case of an individual in Terre Haute, Ind., who attacked his wife with a poker, and was arrested by a gentleman attracted by the lady's screams. Ah, the gentleman passed, the lady saw him and called.
We carelessly threw a bucket of water from our office door the other day, the most of which fell upon an astonished Spaniard, sitting upon his horse, before tho Colorado House. He made the brief remark" Carajo," meaning that we were courageous, and on observing his stalwart form, and the forocity of his expression and moustaches, we thought
A SYLLOGISM.—David was a Jew-Hence, “the Harp of David” was a Jewsharp. Question-How the deuce did he sing his Psalms and play on it the same time ?
We recommend this difficult question to “ Dismal Jeems' for solution, the answer to be left at Barry and Patten's, directed to “ Phoenix."
RETURN OF THE EDITOR.
“Te Deum Laudamus."'-Judge Ames has returned ! With the completion of this article my labors are ended; and wiping my pen on my coat-tail, and placing it behind my sinister ear, with a graceful bow and bland smile for my honored admirers, and a wink of intense meaning for my enemies, I shall abdicate, with dignity, the "Arm-Chair," in favor of its legitimate proprietor.
By the way, this " Arm-Chair” is but a pleasant fiction of " the Judge's, "the only seat in the Herald Office being the empty nail keg, which I have occupied while writing my leaders upon the inverted sugar box, that answers the purpose of a table. But such is life. Divested of its poetry and romance, the objects of our highest admiration become mere common-places, like the Herald's chair and table. Many ideas which we have learned to love and reverence, from the poetry of imagination, as tables, become old sugar boxes on close inspection, and more intimate acquaintance. “ Sic-but I forbear that sickening and hackneyed quotation.