“Last Summer when the Judge went on his circuit, he took the carriage, and I accompanied him on his travels.  One day we stopped for dinner at the stage station between Sonoma and Santa Rosa.  After we had registered, the proprietor approached us, saying:  ’I see you are from Sacramento, and wonder if you know anything about a couple of young girls by the name of Downie, who spent some time there in the public school?’ He seemed disappointed when we replied, ’We know Donners, but not Downies.’  ‘Well,’ he continued, ’they are strangers to me; but I am interested in them on account of their former connection with an unfortunate little old German woman who frequently comes in on the stage that runs between Sonoma and Santa Rosa.  She carries their pictures in her hand-bag and tells a touching story about her happiness when they lived with her.’  Just then the stage stopped before the door, and he, looking out, exclaimed, ’Why, she is among the passengers to-day!  With your permission, I’ll bring her to you.’

“He introduced her as Mrs. Brunner, told her where we were from, and asked her to show us the picture of her little girls.  After shaking hands with us, she took the seat offered, and nervously drew from her reticule a handsomely inlaid case, which she opened and handed to us.  An expression of pride and tenderness lighted her worn features as Judge and I at once exclaimed, pointing to one and then the other, ’Why, this is Georgia, and this, Eliza Donner.  We know them well and call them “our girls” in Sacramento!’”

“She sprang from her seat, and stood with one hand on Judge’s shoulder, and the other on mine, saying earnestly,

“‘Yes!  You do know my children?  Be they well, and doing well?’

“We had to talk fast in order to answer all her questions, and a number of listeners drew nearer and were considerably affected as the poor old soul said, ’Please shake hands with me again for them, and tell them that you talked with their old Grandma Brunner, that loves them now just the same as when they was little.’

“Judge and I assured her that we would deliver her messages in person, as soon as we should get time to look you up.  After dinner we saw her reseated in the stage, and the black silk reticule containing the picture was upon her lap as the stage carried her homeward.”

We learned from them further that grandpa had been convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to San Quentin Prison for a term of eleven years, and that grandma had been granted a divorce, and awarded all the property, but was having great trouble because it had since become involved and was being frittered away in litigation.