ious
cause, the desire to get indoors again as soon as possible, the fact
remains the same--that the people of California walk faster than do
those of almost any other country. Not only men either, who with their
coats buttoned up to their chins, and hats jammed tightly over their
half-shut eyes, present a tolerably secure surface to the attacks of the
wind, but their fairer sisters too can be seen, with their fresh cheeks
and bright eyes protected by jaunty veils, scudding along in the face or
the track of the wind, as the case may he, with wonderful skill and
grace, looking as trim and secure as to rigging as the lightest schooner
in full sail on their own bay.

But it is after the sun has gone down from the cloudless sky, and the
sea has recalled its breezes to slumber for the night, that the
fulfillment of the law of compensation is made evident in this matter.
The nights are of silver, if the days be not of gold. And all over the
State this blessing of cool, comfortable nights is spread. At any
season, one can draw a pair of blankets over him upon retiring, sure of
sound, refreshing slumber, unless assailed by mental or physical
troubles to which even this glorious climate of California cannot
minister.

The country here during this rainless season does not seem to the
Eastern visitor enough like what he has known as country in the summer
to warrant any outlay in getting there. He must, however, understand
that here people go to the country for precisely opposite reasons to
those which influence Eastern tourists to leave the city and betake
themselves to rural districts. In the East, one leaves the crowded
streets and heated atmosphere of the great city to seek coolness in some
sylvan retreat. Here, we leave the chilling winds and fogs of the city
to try to get warm where they cannot penetrate. Warm it may be; but the
country at this season is not at its best as to looks. The flowers and
the grass have disappeared with the rains, the latter, however, keeping
in its dry, brown roots, that the sun scorches daily, the germ of all
next winter's green. Of the trees, the live-oak alone keeps to the
summer livery of Eastern forests. Farther up in the mountain counties it
is very different. No fairer summer could be wished for than that which
reigns cloudless here; and with the sparkling champagne of that clear,
dry air in his nostrils, our Eastern visitor forgets even to sigh for a
summer shower to lay the dreadful dust