own to the caves. There the stones are slippery, and
an absorbing flirtation should be resisted, as the tide often intrudes
most unexpectedly, and in dangerous haste. Besides the caves the
attractions are the fishing and the kelp beds. These kelp beds form a
submarine garden, and the water is so clear that one can see beautiful
plants, fish, etc., at forty or fifty feet below the sea surface--not
unlike the famous sea-gardens at Nassau in the Bahamas. There is a good
hotel, open the year round.

Lakeside is a quiet inland retreat twenty-two miles from San Diego,
where many go for a little excursion and change of air. The Lakeside
Hotel has seventy large rooms and complete appointments. The table is
supplied with plenty of milk and _real_ cream from their own cows,
vegetables and fruit from the neighboring ranches, game in its season,
shot on the lake near by, and, in the valleys, meats from homegrown
stock. The guests who are not too invalidish often go out for long
drives, never forgetting the lunch-baskets. One day we try the Alpine
stage. Winding across the mesa at the rear of the hotel, we have a
lovely view of the little lake half hidden in the trees, reflecting in
its quiet surface the mountains that rise up beyond it. Gradually
climbing upward, we come to a tract of land that is watered by the
Flume. To our surprise we learn that this is practically frostless, and
that since this has been discovered many young orchards of oranges and
lemons have been planted. The red mesa land on the side-hills will not
be touched by the frosts of a cold night when the valley at its foot
will have enough frost to kill all tender growth. This is a new
discovery, and has placed thousands of acres on the market as suitable
for the culture of citrus fruits. Do you notice how the appearance of
the landscape is changing? The nearer hills are much sharper and
steeper, and their sides are studded by great boulders. There are stone
walls, and here and there are great flocks of sheep. The horses stop of
their own accord at a lovely spot where they are used to getting a drink
of cool spring water. Did any ever taste quite so good as that drunk
from an old dipper after a long warm drive? The live-oaks and sycamores
look too inviting to be resisted, and we get out to explore while the
horses are resting. Underneath the evergreen shade we pick up some of
the large pointed acorns and carry them away as souvenirs. This would be
a delightful spot