any Eastern trees so
beautiful.

On the top of the Santa Cruz mountains, where we stopped to water the
horses, there is a little house, and while we waited there, out from the
house came a man whose face was all scarred and seamed. After we drove
away, the stage-driver told us that the man was a hunter, known as
"Mountain Charley," and that his scars were made by a grisly-bear.

Well, we have now been at Santa Cruz a week, and I have had a good time.
Every morning we go in bathing. It is a funny sight to see everybody
racing down into the waves, and catching hold of a big rope that is
stretched from the shore a good distance into the water. The undertow
here is so strong, that it is not safe to venture away from the rope.

Yesterday we all went to Moore's Beach to have a "clam-bake." We rode in
a big wagon; and the first thing we did, when we got to the beach, was
to pull off our shoes and stockings, and wade in the water. Papa and
Uncle John dug the clams; while the rest of us ran about hunting for
sea-urchins and shells.

As soon as the clams were boiled, we sat down on the beach, and unpacked
the lunch-baskets. Oh, how hungry we were! and how good every thing
tasted.

There was one lady in the party, who sat up high on the rocks, with her
kid gloves on, and her sunshade over her, while the rest of us were
running about with bare feet, and skirts tucked up. But at lunch-time
she came down from her high place, and I saw her eating clams with as
good a relish as any of us.

Next week we are going to Pescadero, and, perhaps, I will write to you
again from there.

DAISY.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

THE PARROT WHO PLAYED THE MASTER.

A STORY WITH A MORAL.

The master of the house had gone out on business. As he shut the door,
the parrot, whose place was on a perch in the room, thought to himself,
"Hi! Now I am master in this house, and I'll let people know it."

He thereupon threw his head proudly on one side, and spread himself in
a very pompous manner; then, as he had seen his master do, broke the
finest rose from the bush, and put the stem in his bill; then looked at
his gay-colored coat in the glass, and felt as grand as a born nobleman.

Near by, on the rug, two dogs, Ami and Finette, lay asleep. They were
well-trained, obedient dogs, clean-limbed and civil, expert in many
clever tricks, but not quite a match for the parrot in cleverness
and cunning.

As soon as the latter spied