Postcard handwritten by James G. Lang, ordering a shipment of eggs from Oakland (possibly eggs of Guinea hens, for the purpose of breeding). Preprinted penny postcard dated and postmarked March 6, 1888, at Lang, California; received March 7, 1888, at 12:30 p.m. in Oakland. Card probably was placed directly onto a northbound train at Lang Station.

Addressee (front of card): Mr. Geo. [George] B. Bailey, 1307 Castro St., Oakland, Cala [California]

Message on reverse:

Lang Mar 6/88

Dear Sir

If you have not shipped the eggs please ship soon as possible or if you cannot send them right away let me know when you can ship them, as I need them very much.

Yours truly

Jas [James] G Lang

Additional writing on back, probably by the recipient:

Pr [pair?] Guineas [hens?] $10. 15,. Pair
R.D.

Perkins writes (1961):

John Lang was ... a pioneer by instinct. Coming to California in 1854, he had made the first cheese vats in the State. He was in the Nevada Comstock Rush, but his wife's health forced a move to Los Angeles where he developed 35 acres in fruits and vegetables profitably.

In 1870, Lang bought 160 acres from the railroad company in the Soledad canyon (at "Lang") and later increased his holdings to some 1,200 acres, which included some 10 stink pots known locally as the Sulphur Springs. They smelled so repulsive that they had quite a local reputation as a sure cure for rheumatism and what have you. (Incidentally, those springs are, or were, at the upper end of "Rivers End," which attractive resort is on the old Lang ranch. They mudded up in the flood of 1938 and were never cleaned out. Fish, now cavorting in the Rivers End ponds, do not like sulphur water and are joined in their views by the local ducks.)

Lang planted an extensive orchard. It included lemons as well as the deciduous fruits, and there were also berries and vegetables. He built a hotel, about 36x36, two-storied, and soon had quite a county reputation as a resort offering exceptionally good hunting — if you liked grizzlies — while Lang's hotel and dining room was an anachronism in that canyon setting, catering adequately to those despondent enough to drink, or bathe, in the stinking sulphur waters.