The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Beautiful Eyes of Ysidria, by Charles A.
Gunnison

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

Title: The Beautiful Eyes of Ysidria

Author: Charles A. Gunnison

Release Date: June 23, 2006 [eBook #18660]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BEAUTIFUL EYES OF YSIDRIA***

E-text prepared by the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading
Team (http://www.pgdp.net/)

THE BEAUTIFUL EYES OF YSIDRIA

by

CHARLES A. GUNNISON.

Press of Commercial Publishing Co.
34 California St., S. F.

To----

_Madame Emma Baudouin of Luebeck, this little story of Californian
life is given in token of her unmerited kindness to the writer, and
in admiration of one who makes the world happier by her every word
and act._

_CHARLES A. GUNNISON,
Xmas, 1894.
In the Embarcadero, Palo Alto,
Santa Clara, California_

The Beautiful Eyes of Ysidria.

I.

Have you seen the magnificent slope of our beloved Tamalpais, as it
curves from the changing colour of the bay, till touching the fleecy fog
rolling in from the Pacific, it passes from day to rest? If you have
not, I hope you may, for the sooner you have this glorious picture on
your memory's walls, the brighter will be your future, and you will have
a bit of beauty which need not be forgotten even in heaven itself.

There is one who, though passing his life beneath its shadow, enjoying
the scented wind from its forests and the music of its birds and
waterfalls and sighing madronos, does not see it, yet calls it his God,
and believes it to be the Giver of all good, as we who have never seen
our God feel that One who bestows blessings so bountiful must be
beautiful beyond words.

Many walks, miles in extent, have my Quito and I taken. I say my Quito,
for he is my son, my only son; and beneath the thick shade of laurels,
beside the roadside troughs, we have rested and spoken, he to me of the
unheard, I to him of the unseen.

Come back with me to the days of my youth, those merry days of
California before the gold was about her dear form like prisoner's
chains; before