The New Penelope and Other 
Stories and Poems, by 
 
Frances Fuller Victor This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at 
no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, 
give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg 
License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org 
Title: The New Penelope and Other Stories and Poems 
Author: Frances Fuller Victor 
Release Date: September 22, 2006 [EBook #19357] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
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PENELOPE AND OTHER *** 
 
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THE NEW PENELOPE 
AND
OTHER STORIES AND POEMS. 
 
BY 
Mrs. Frances Fuller Victor. 
 
San Francisco: A. L. BANCROFT & COMPANY, PRINTERS. 1877. 
Copyright, 1877, by MRS. FRANCES FULLER VICTOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
This collection consists of sketches of Pacific Coast life, most of which 
have appeared, from time to time, in the Overland Monthly, and other 
Western magazines. If they have a merit, it is because they picture 
scenes and characters having the charm of newness and originality, 
such as belong to border life. 
The poems embraced in the collection, have been written at all periods 
of my life, and therefore cannot be called peculiarly Western. But they 
embody feelings and emotions common to all hearts, East or West; and 
as such, I dedicate them to my friends on the Pacific Coast, but most 
especially in Oregon. 
Portland, August, 1877. 
 
CONTENTS. 
STORIES. PAGE 
The New Penelope 9 A Curious Interview 80 Mr. Ela's Story 96 On the 
Sands 112 An Old Fool 132 How Jack Hastings Sold His Mine 180 
What They Told Me at Wilson's Bar 197 Miss Jorgensen 212 Sam
Rice's Romance 231 El Tesoro 247 
POEMS. 
A Pagan Reverie 269 Passing by Helicon 272 Lost at Sea 275 'Twas 
June, Not I 276 Lines to a Lump of Virgin Gold 281 Magdalena 284 
Repose 289 Aspasia 291 A Reprimand 296 To Mrs. ---- 297 Moonlight 
Memories 299 Verses for M---- 301 Autumnalia 303 Palo Santo 305 A 
Summer Day 306 He and She 308 O Wild November Wind 308 By the 
Sea 309 Polk County Hills 310 Waiting 312 Palma 314 Making Moan 
316 Childhood 317 A Little Bird that Every One Knows 318 Wayward 
Love 319 A Lyric of Life 320 From an Unpublished Poem 321 Nevada 
324 The Vine 326 What the Sea Said to Me 327 Hymn 328 Do You 
Hear the Women Praying? 329 Our Life is Twofold 331 Souvenir 334 I 
Only Wished to Know 335 Lines Written in an Album 335 Love's 
Footsteps 336 The Poet's Ministers 336 Sunset at the Mouth of the 
Columbia 340 The Passing of the Year 342 
 
STORIES. 
The New Penelope and Other Stories And Poems. 
 
THE NEW PENELOPE. 
I may as well avow myself in the beginning of my story as that 
anomalous creature--a woman who loves her own sex, and naturally 
inclines to the study of their individual peculiarities and histories, in 
order to get at their collective qualities. If I were to lay before the 
reader all the good and bad I know about them by actual discovery, and 
all the mean, and heroic, attributes this habit I have of studying people 
has revealed to me, I should meet with incredulity, perhaps with 
opprobrium. However that may be, I have derived great enjoyment 
from having been made the recipient of the confidences of many 
women, and by learning therefrom to respect the moral greatness that is 
so often coupled with delicate physical structure, and almost perfect
social helplessness. Pioneer life brings to light striking characteristics 
in a remarkable manner; because, in the absence of conventionalities 
and in the presence of absolute and imminent necessities, all real 
qualities come to the surface as they never would have done under 
different circumstances. In the early life of the Greeks, Homer found 
his Penelope; in the pioneer days of the Pacific Coast, I discovered 
mine. 
My wanderings, up and down among the majestic mountains and the 
sunny valleys of California and Oregon, had made me acquainted with 
many persons, some of whom were to me, from the interest they 
inspired me with, like the friends of my girlhood. Among this select 
number was Mrs. Anna Greyfield, at whose home among the foot-hills 
of the Sierras in Northern California, I had spent one of the most 
delightful summers of my life. Intellectual and intelligent without being 
learned or particularly bookish; quick in her perceptions and nearly 
faultless in her judgment of others; broadly charitable, not through any 
laxity of principle on her own part, but through knowledge of the 
stumbling-blocks of which the world is    
    
		
	
	
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