we are content to know that our
Christchild has sunken deep into our hearts where his song inaudible to
others is heard by us forever and ever."

[Illustration: Scroll]

[Illustration: Scroll]

Benicia's Letters.

After my aunt Benicia's death I found in her little desk a bundle of
letters, which threw light upon the romance of her life, and on the
reason perhaps of her refusing many offers which were known to have been
made her by honoured Californians of the last generation. The letters
are curious and interesting to me, and were written to my uncle by his
chum, and enclosed many sketches.

The letters are in Spanish, but for your better understanding I have
translated them with all their strange expressions as best I can.

At first I thought that I would destroy them, but as most of my friends
who read them now, have long known my aunt Benicia, I feel sure that
they will be, even in these practical days, interested and touched by
the revelation they so suggest of a life-long love which filled the
heart of the good, little woman, who is at last at rest.

GRUeNEN MARKT.

WUeRZBURG, 20th October, 18--.

DEAR JOSE:

How dull life here is, I cannot bear to look forward to the time so far
ahead when I shall have done with the University, not that I shall be at
all unhappy to leave and return to my dear California, but the twelve or
sixteen months between now and then, make me shudder to think of.

My time is quite free now and I make many pleasure walks to Zell and the
Hochberg, while almost every day finds me at some time on the Nicholaus
Berg enjoying its ever lovely views of the green Maine valley, which
however is now taking on its first autumnal tints.

Today I come from the stone quarry, which lies on the road to the
Hochberg, where I have been chatting with the workmen and making a few
sketches to send home to Benicia; the day has been one of the
pleasantest I have known, just one of those mild autumn days we love so
much in Santa Clara when her hills are clothed in their warmest colours
and the big leaves are first falling from the fig trees. Ah, I did wish
to be back again to walk with you along the dry Francisquito and gather
the first golden poppies for Benicia's black hair. Yes, of course, I
should be contented with these world-known beauties which I have about
me, nevertheless, it is a pleasure to recall those happ