in a reg-
ular way five dollars." The crowd smiled audibly. "Now, I don't want as much as that," continued Cheap John. " Times is too hard, and if you won't, have 'em for something you may take 'em for nothing. I'll put 'em all at four-an'-a-'a'f. Who'll give me four? Take 'em along for three, gentlemen, you know times is hard and these goods must be cleaned out of here. There they are for two-an'-a-'a'f. Who says two? Down they go at one, and to show you that times is hard and that these goods must be sold, there they are for fifty cents, and I'll never ask a cent more nor take a cent less."
" Well, mister," drawled out the sharp-visaged ob- server, who by this time had worked his way up to the counter, "times is hard, very hard I may say, an' ef you'll jest throw in that 'ar coat an' pants, an' that 'ar vest, an' fiddle what's hangin' up thar agin the wall, why dang my buttons ef I don't paternize yer fifty cents worth."
Sickness was an expensive pasthiie in those days, and to indulge in some diseases was much more costly than in others. The fee-bill of the San Francisco medical society, organized June 22d, 1850, gives the prices for various visits and operations rang- ing from $16 — one ' ounce,' — the lowest, to $1,000. A single visit was $32 ; a visit in regular attendance $32; for every hour detained $32 additional; advice $50 to $100; night visits as consulting physicians $100; for various specified operations from $500 to $1,000.
Doctors flourished, and as a class were no more scrupulous than ministers or miners. At Yeates' rancho, in 1849, a man died. He had two yoke of cattle and a large quantity of provisions in his wagon. Dr Sparks took care of him, and when he died claimed the cattle and wagon for the doctor's bill. Dr Sparks was soon taken sick and Dr Clinton took care of him. Sparks died and Clinton took cattle, wagon, pro- visions and all the property Sparks had, for his bill.
