We stayed at San Jose over Sunday, and attended church morning and
evening, furnishing from our number the preacher for both services. The
church had a good choir of men and boys, surpliced, which was, very
sensibly, placed near the organ in one of the transepts. A much better
arrangement this is than putting all in the compass of a small chancel.
To have choristers close up to the altar is not a commendable use,
though very general. The structural choir of a cathedral gives ample
room for singers and worshippers, with dignified and clear space about
the chancel proper. The ordinary parish church, in its whole extent,
should be treated as if it were just such a structural choir, with the
singers well among the people in raised seats, for the prominence of
their office and the better effect of the music.

We had time on Monday to take another stroll among the roses and palm
trees of San Jose, and then the car "Lucania" in the forenoon took all
our party, except one, to Santa Cruz, for an excursion to the Big
Trees, about ten miles from there. All this I missed. From the leaves
of the diary of one of the party I quote the impression of the trip:

"When we reached Santa Cruz we found a four-horse stage and a carriage
awaiting us, into which we got, and were driven back into the woods
about ten miles, along a road that wound round with a deep canyon on one
side, at the bottom of which ran a river. We finally forded this river,
and went into deeper woods, where we found the 'big trees.' They were a
grand sight, these solemn old trees, said to be four thousand years
old, some of them towering up three hundred feet or so, and sixty and
ninety feet in circumference. We all got into one, and our party of
thirteen had plenty of room left for several more people. This tree was
called after General Fremont, who lived in it while surveying in this
region. Before that, it was occupied by a trapper, whose children were
born in it. There are sixty acres of these trees which have been
preserved from the ruthless greed that is rapidly destroying those
priceless giants of the ages."

It was a regret to me that I could not have seen the mystery of those
venerable trees, but I had a duty to perform in visiting some relatives
residing near Gilroy. It gave me a nearer impression of the Santa Clara
Valley and its life. My visit was to a fruit ranch entirely given over
to the growth of prunes. The part of the great plain where I was, is
cut u