h a nice
farmhouse, and a well-built barn and outhouses. Then you drive over
another knoll, and you see another nice farmhouse. Virginia and the East
for me! In this country you can walk through foxtail grass until you're
ruined, and you see no buildings worth looking at." This started
animated discussion as to the merits of California compared with the
merits of Eastern farming country, the young school ma'am vibrating
between the little kitchen and the dining room and taking her part in
the conversation. She was from Indiana, and told me that while she liked
California she did not approve of California's neglect of history in the
public schools. She felt that the children were given no knowledge of
ancient or of modern history in the teaching scheme. She assured me that
her own pupils were taught history very faithfully.

We were sorry to leave the ranch with its low houses and its pretty lake
in the foreground. We drove on down the Pass, coming over rather
precipitous roads to a last steep slope from whose height we looked off
to an immense level valley which seemed to stretch away forever. Violet
morning lights hung over it and it looked like an enchanted country.
This was our first view of the San Joaquin Valley, through which we were
to drive for many miles.

[Illustration: 1., 2. and 3. Cowboy Games at Bakersfield.]

As we began to cross the valley, coming first through rather dull,
scrubby stretches, I saw acres of a delicate pink and white bell-shaped
flower, somewhat like a morning glory, growing close to the ground,
blooming luxuriantly in the midst of a whorl of green leaves. I later
asked a country woman the name of the flower, but she could only tell me
that they called the lovely delicate things sand flowers. As we
approached Bakersfield the land grew richer and the grass was thicker
and greener. Meadow larks were flying about in great numbers, singing
their sweet, clear song. At Bakersfield we stopped at the New Southern
Hotel, which is, like most Western hotels, European in plan. We found a
delightful cafeteria known as the Clock Tower Cafeteria, kept by two
women, and with most appetizing home cooking. Bakersfield is one of the
most Western of California towns. Something in the swing of its citizens
as they walk along, something in the wide sombreros and high boots which
the visiting cowboys wear imparts a general breeziness and Western
atmosphere. It is a little town with the clothes of a big town.