orably with the best environs of
Eastern cities. It is well to drive through Adams and Figueroa streets
before you leave. There are no attractive hotels at present; but one is
so greatly needed and desired that it will soon be designed and
realized.

Madame de Stael was right when she said she greatly preferred meeting
interesting men and women to admiring places or scenery. Among my
pleasantest memories of Los Angeles are my visits to Madame Fremont in
her pretty red cottage, presented by loving friends. It is a privilege
to meet such a clever, versatile woman. Her conversation flashes with
epigrams and pithy sayings, and her heart is almost as young as when it
was captured by the dashing "Pathfinder."

I believe there are men still existing who keep up the old absurd
fallacy that women are deficient in wit and humor! She would easily
convert all such.

The Coronels, to whom Mrs. Jackson was so indebted and of whom she wrote
so appreciatively, are still in the same home, cherishing her memory
most fondly, her photograph being placed in a shrine where the
sweet-faced madame kneels daily, and her books and knick-knacks are
preserved as precious souvenirs.

Don Antonio Coronel is truly a most interesting personage, the last
specimen of the grand old Spanish regime. His father was the first
schoolmaster in California, and the son has in his possession the first
schoolbook printed on this coast, at Monterey in 1835, a small
catechism; also the first book printed in California, a tiny volume
dated 1833, the father having brought the type from Spain.

I was taken to the basement to see a rare collection of antiquities. In
one corner is a cannon made in 1710, and brought by Junipero Serra.
Ranged on shelves is a collection such as can be found nowhere else, of
great value: strange stone idols, a few specimens of the famous
iridescent pottery, queer ornaments, toys, and relics. In another corner
see the firearms and weapons of long ago: old flintlocks, muskets,
Spanish bayonets, crossbows, and spears. There are coins, laces,
baskets, toys, skulls, scalps, and a sombrero with two long red
pennons, on which each feather represents a human scalp. Upstairs there
are early specimens of Mexican art; one of the oldest pictures of
Junipero Serra; groups in clay modelled by the Dona Mariana of Mexican
scenes; feather pictures made from the plumage of gorgeous birds--too
much to remember or describe here. But I do believe that if a