He was given to teasing, and could be a little malicious.  A proud and ambitious schoolteacher had married a well-off but decidedly Cockney Englishman, whose aspirates could be relied upon to do the expected.  Soon after the wedding, Harte called and cleverly steered the conversation on to music and songs, finally expressing great fondness for “Kathleen Mavourneen,” but professing to have forgotten the words.  The bridegroom swallowed the bait with avidity.  “Why,” said he, “they begin with ’The ’orn of the ’unter is ’eard on the ‘ill.’” F.B. stroked his Dundrearies while his dark eyes twinkled.  The bride’s eyes flashed ominously, but there seemed to be nothing she felt like saying.

In October, 1857, he removed to the Liscom ranch in the suburbs at the head of the bay and became the tutor of two boys, fourteen and thirteen years of age.  He had a forenoon session of school and in the afternoon enjoyed hunting on the adjacent marshes.  For his convenience in keeping run of the lessons given, he kept a brief diary, and it has lately been found.  It is of interest both in the little he records and from the significant omissions.  It reveals a very simple life of a clever, kindly, clean young man who did his work, enjoyed his outdoor recreation, read a few good books, and generally “retired at 9 1/2 P.M.”  He records sending letters to various publications.  On a certain day he wrote the first lines of “Dolores.”  A few days later he finished it, and mailed it to the Knickerbocker.

He wrote and rewrote a story, “What Happened at Mendocino.”  What happened to the story does not appear.  He went to church generally, and some of the sermons were good and others “vapid and trite.”  Once in a while he goes to a dance, but not to his great satisfaction.  He didn’t dance particularly well.  He tells of a Christmas dinner that he helped his sister to prepare.  Something made him dissatisfied with himself and he bewails his melancholy and gloomy forebodings that unfit him for rational enjoyment and cause him to be a spectacle for “gods and men.”  He adds:  “Thermometer of my spirit on Christmas day, 1857, 9 A.M., 40 deg.; temperature, 12 A.M., 60 deg.; 3 P.M., 80 deg.; 6 P.M., 20 deg. and falling rapidly; 9 P.M., at zero; 1 A.M., 20 deg. below.”

His entries were brief and practical.  He did not write to express his feelings.

At the close of 1857 he indulged in a brief retrospect, and an emphatic statement of his determination for the future.

After referring to the fact that he was a tutor at a salary of twenty-five dollars a month and board, and that a year before he was unemployed, at the close he writes:  “In these three hundred and sixty-five days I have again put forth a feeble essay toward fame and perhaps fortune.  I have tried literature, albeit in a humble way.  I have written some passable prose and it has been successfully published.  The conviction is forced on me by observation, and not by vain enthusiasm, that I am fit for nothing else.  Perhaps I may succeed; if not, I can at least make the trial.  Therefore I consecrate this year, or as much as God may grant for my services, to honest, heartfelt, sincere labor and devotion to this occupation.  God help me!  May I succeed!”