Beginning with June, 1893, I spent a three months' vacation at Deer
Park Inn, six miles from Lake Tahoe, a lovely spot between high
mountains owned by Mr. Scott. At that time he wanted an entertainer
for his guests. I needed a rest from my church and teaching duties and
a change to the high mountain air from the coast fogs and winds. I
spent June visiting the people whose addresses were sent me by Mr.
Scott and in a short time I had about thirty-five of Oakland's
prominent people as my guests during my stay at the springs. On a
beautiful June afternoon the coach stopped before the inn after a most
delightful ride in an open coach. Shortly after our arrival the night
shut off the sight of the beautiful scene. After dinner an hour or two
was spent with my new-found host and hostess. After a refreshing sleep
I arose early and standing on the wide veranda I had an opportunity to
see for the first time the magnificent spectacle before me. I thought
truly "the groves were God's first temples" as I beheld the high
mountains, covered with pines and chaparral, the sparkling waterfalls
dashing down the mountain side; the cottages here and there on the
level parts of the rocky steeps; the long building for the dining
hall; the laundry building, and below the dam, the row of white
buildings and corrals for the cows and horses connected with the dairy
conducted by Mr. Scott.
I was quartered in a section of the hotel which contained sixteen
rooms, a reception parlor and an office. All those who came were
received by me and their names registered and places assigned them in
the hotel, the cottages or tents, as they desired. In the evening I
was expected to have entertainment of some kind for the guests who
assembled in the parlors after dinner. I was rather put to my wits'
end to see how I was to please all these people with nothing at hand
to aid me. It was a new departure as well as a problem. By the
evening coach I sent a letter to Kohler & Chase with this message,
"Send me a Fisher right away C.O.D." Now with the piano assured and
with the aid of the guests who were to arrive we should not fail for
music at least. A log cabin on the side of the hill, complete except
for the roof, was large enough to accommodate a hundred or more
guests. On one end was a high fireplace and mantel, there were old
fashioned chairs and rockers, tables were placed there for the card
players, settees along the sides, and across the corner between two
windows was a place for the piano. After I was informed that I was to
have charge of this place of amusement I soon had willing hands to aid
me and by the time the guests began to arrive all was in readiness. I
had brought along some of my Old Folks concert costumes and books and
other things to help me out. Among the first arrivals was Mrs. Wasley
of Oakland. I had known her before I enlisted her services as pianist.
She could also sing so she was doubly useful.
It was decided that on the Fourth of July there should be a dedication
of the log cabin and a patriotic programme. I was most fortunate in
having as guests Mr. W.S. Goodfellow's family and their guest, Mrs.
Amsden. A more fortunate addition could not have been desired. After
my friends had rested from the journey I unfolded my plan and their
assistance was readily given. We had also as guests Col. Sumner and
wife, Bvt. Col. Parnell and family, Mr. Geo. Metcalf and two sons, Mr.
Johnson from Sacramento, son of Grove L. Johnson, and members from a
number of San Francisco's prominent families. On Saturday night there
were many notables from Sacramento, educators and others. I was in the
highest state of enthusiasm for my Fourth of July oration was to come
from Col. Parnell, the only survivor of the battle of Balaklava. Col.
Sumner was master of ceremonies. A prominent teacher from San
Francisco drilled all the children of the guests. Not one was omitted
who could add an acceptable number to our already excellent program.
Even our estimable housekeeper, Sarah Markwart, proved herself quite a
poet, besides surprising the great number of guests and strangers with
a delicious repast of cake and cream after the exercises were over.
The dining hall was decorated with evergreens, flags and wild flowers.
On each table was a delicious cake, graced with the American flag, and
patriotic emblems were upon the napkins. With all her labor she found
time to contribute her offering and wrote Lines upon the Racket, as
she called it, and when the guests were all seated the verses were
read by one of the teachers:
"LINES UPON THE RACKET"
High up in the snow-capped Sierras,
Not far from Tahoe's beautiful sheet,
Nestling amid the firs and pines,
Is a beautiful summer retreat.
There is where tired mortals go
To rest their brains and weary bones,
Forgetting about the busy world,
Contented to be perfect drones.
Enjoying the beautiful sunshiny days,
And breathing the purest of mountain air;
For the time caring for naught
And saying with the poet, Begone, dull care.
But as mortals cannot live on sunshine and air,
In that beautiful canon near the foaming stream,
Stands the famous Deer Park Inn,
Midst forest trees forever green.
There the most epicurean can find
Food the envy of a king;
Nowhere such trout in all the world
And cooked as nice as anything.
Dear host and hostess, may they live long;
Health and happiness may they never lack;
And when they retire from their rural home,
May they carry with them a well-filled "sack."
For none so watchful could be on earth,
To please and satisfy each guest,
As they have proved to be to all;
Their fame will extend from East to West.
There's another one must not be forgotten,
The life of the camp, full of laughter and song;
Kind words and smiles for every one,
Happy may be her life and long,
For Mrs. Blake-Alverson and her song.
The dear Log Cabin on the hill,
With its huge fireplace and cheery fire,
Where met each eve both old and young,
Mother and daughter, son and sire,
To hear the piano's tuneful notes
And raise their voices loud in song;
To "trip the light fantastic toe"
And strive the pleasures to prolong.
Where could you find such beautiful girls,
Such as the poet always sings,
Gentle and kind, courteous and mild,
We pronounce them angels, all but the wings.
We regretfully leave such glorious scenes;
But as all things must come to an end,
We part for the time with reminiscences sweet,
Resolving here next summer to spend.
When at last we all arrive at St. Peter's Gate
In the Sweet bye and bye,
And when he calls the heavenly roll
May he not pass us by.
These lines caused much merriment and were heartily applauded. I wish
to pay tribute here to a most noble woman who, left with three sons,
was happily doing her best. She was a fine cook and housekeeper in her
own home and each summer for three months she came to cook at the inn.
I never ate finer meals. There were Tahoe trout every day that would
fill an epicure's heart with delight, and venison, hot rolls, muffins
and waffles, cake, puddings and creams all splendidly prepared. We all
knew with what art Sarah prepared the food, but we were not prepared
to get in our menu, Lines on the Racket, which made a great hit.
The services began at two o'clock and consisted of opening remarks of
welcome by Col. Sumner, piano number of patriotic airs by Mrs. Amsden,
America by the guests assembled, patriotic exercises by the children
of the guests drilled by one of the teachers, and the oration by Col.
Parnell, which was in part as follows:
"Men whose lives are spent in the military or naval service of their
country are not, as a rule, accustomed to public speaking. It is
actions, not words that are demanded of them, those actions, properly
conducted and carried out being the safety and security of the nation.
"When I perceive that many of those assembled here to do honor to the
day we celebrate (away up in this quiet and delightful mountain
retreat--the Switzerland of America, free from the noise, turmoil and
fog of the city) are prominent educators of the nation's children, I
find my embarrassment increased lest a misapplied word, or misplaced
verb might cause my everlasting disgrace; for above all people whom I
honor and whose respect and esteem I appreciate, it is those devoted
men and women who give their time and their talents to the education
of the young; and to whose care, fathers and mothers, in unstinted
confidence, are willing to entrust their loved ones in preparing them
for the battle of life.
[Illustration: (The fireplace and the cabin are from paintings in oil
by Mrs. Blake-Alverson)
Col. Richard Parnell
In 1893 the Only Survivor of the Battle of Balaklava