May 17th.

I have just had time to scribble these few words before the post comes for my letter.

We have been driving about, admiring landscapes, one another, every one else, millionaires!  Everything that money can do to spoil Nature has been done here, but Nature will have her own way in the end; and in spite of the millionaires’ millions and the incongruity of everything, we cannot but admire this beautiful and wonderful country.

Before our departure the Senator actually knew us one from the other.  He said to me, struggling with my names, “Well, Mrs. Lindermann Hegercrone, I am very sorry you are going.”

* * * * *

We started on visit No. 2—­this time to Mr. Lathrop’s beautiful place in Menlo Park.  The grounds are perfectly laid out.  Flowers of all kinds arranged in parterres, clusters of trees such as I had never seen before, roses as big as sunflowers, and the beautiful sparkling lake in front of the window and the blue mountains in the distance, made the place a perfect paradise.  The stables were extra fine, the floor and ceiling being inlaid in two kinds of wood found only in California.  The room where the bridles were kept had such beautiful polished panels that they shone like mirrors.  There must have been harnesses for twelve horses hanging on the walls.  Mr. L. gave me a box made of the thirty different kinds of wood found in California.

The following day we drove with four horses to Mr. Rathbone’s, who also has a gorgeous place.  His picture-gallery is worthy of a Rothschild.

* * * * *

We left San Francisco for Los Angeles; the directors of the road put everything at our disposition as usual.  We had a salon, bed, and dressing-rooms in one car, and Miss Cadwalader and Miss Clymer had similar ones in another.  There were kitchen, dining and reading rooms for the whole party, which had now grown to be sixteen in number, Senator Conover and his wife and some officers going with General Taylor to Fort Yuma having joined us.

We went to Santa Monica, which is the fashionable watering-place of these parts.  Here we drove on the beach, which is thirty miles long.  A gentleman of Los Angeles was attached to our party and showed us the sights.  We saw all kinds of ranches—­orange, grape, and bee ranches.  Then we drove to a Mexican settlement, where they gave us a gorgeous dinner, really worthy of more time than we could give it, for we had to leave at five o’clock for Los Angeles, where we dined again.

The next day we started off on another tour.  We drove through twenty-five miles of banana, pineapple, pomegranate groves and vineyards.  We tasted all the wines and fruit-syrups, and drank native port and champagne.  We had a special train and arrived at Merced the next morning, to start on our Yosemite Valley tour.

May 20th.