The morning call., 1893-06-18

taking the distance at an easy jog. we ar
rive. after thirty-fve miles OF travel. SIX
miles from where we started tnat morn
| ing, just in time for dinner. at that pleas
ant little English seeming. Monte Vista
Inn, "at the old ex-mis5ion" of San Jose.
LET us stay here forever" sghs Con-
| servativa, as, after dinner, she stands at
an upper window and watches the sun
setting over the mission hills. we 90
iDger over the next day, visiting the
ruins of the old mission. taking some of
the beautiful drives in the neigh borhood, 4,
but steadfastly declining to ascend the
peak, though the climb is well worth
while.
distances! 1t seemed as though we had
been gone from home for weeks, and
have travelled over continent, when. on
the morning Of the fourth day OF our trip,
We leave the old mission and proceed
on ,Our way over the bills to Warm
Springs.
Even the pony seems impressed with a
sense of the rare beauty OF the country
She pauses on the crest OF nne ascent, with
ears sent forward, nostrilS dilated and
head erect, shifting tie delicious air and
gazing afar over the wide landscape, the
sloping miles Of vivid vineyard, the level
stretches of grain, the darker orchards.
the whole exquisite panorama Of wood
land and meadow, field and garden,
crossed here and there by winding, white
roads, dotted with pretty farmnouses and
clustered villages-we can count half a
dozen from our vantage grouud-and
edged by the glislening bay. No
railroad Journey in the State opens up such
vista a this before the traveller. Down,
down winds the road into the valley again.
Warm Springs is passed, the ancient aqua
| calienta OF the Indians, now closed to the
public to further one mans ambitious
Eaims. From here on for several miles is a
far in ha QSfi l.
| men-smooth, broad, level as floor, hard
and firm, free from Gust, natural mac
adam, good even in the muddest weather
1t is meet that this should be one of the
best roads in the State. for 1t leads to
MilDitas.
To be sure all roads tend thither. bu.
this. ''the Milpitas road" par excellence,
surpasses all the others. 1t is growing
warm, and for the first time the flies be-
came troublesome. Protected though she
Is by f1y-blanket the pony is nearly
driven frantic by the buZzing pests. AT
last you both alight, and gathering of the
tall mustard plant growing by the roadside
you weave thereof garlands, which yon
entwine in her bride. She eyes them suS-
piciously, rolling her large eyes around in
dlsmayed surprise at first, and the effect Is
so funny that Conservative christens her
Ophelia forthwith-and the name sticks to
her for the rest of the trip. A little later
we sweep proudly up the main avenue of
Milpitas.
We refresh Ophelia with a clear, deep
draught of water at Milpitas. ana then,
leaving the classic metropolis behind us,
we wend our way across the plains by a
dusty and unloyely road TO Alviso. We
might have taken a better road had We
known it, but our wisdom came too late,
so for two long miles we pow the dust.
Then we strike the main road, and
half an hour later draw up in front
of the pos!toflice at Alviso. This
around the bay. Alvso is perched at the
wrist of the long arm that reaches back
into the country from San Francisco. The
hand and fingers project little further
inland. as little sloughs and runs, but
these, too, are soon passed, and we are
driving westward. through fields, miles In
extent, 1t seems, to our unaccustomed
eyes-ot peas, beans, beets, lettuce and
other garden sass" toward Mountain
View. They grow onions along this road,
onions by the acre-the mile. They grow
tall, their tops waving in the breeze, and
we realize the eternal yerity-in onion is
strength.
They look as th ough they had gone to
seed" says R1dcala. but Con servativia's S
brain is fairly teeming with botanical in
spiratiOn. "Oh, no." she explains, II
think those are the young onions growing
on the top" Radicala is no botanist. Ii
seems to be gaseous SAVIOR about this
statement. and her brain rejects it so
promptly and forciby that even Con-
servativia begins to doubt the correct
ness of her botanical inspiration, and
admits it does seem dubious. We cannot
really say where the onions are. They may
be in the curious Dubious swelling. at the
middle of each stalk. but we are
sure they are not on top. At last
We are past the onion beds and are
driving along majestic avenues through a
veritable park of grand old oaks. All hon or
to the men who have spared these noble
trees, growing thick amid the fields of
green grain. They are a sight to cause the
Californian's heart to glow with pride.
We have rounded the bay and are driv-
ing north. and presently, with good appe-
tites for our MONDAY meal. we pulled up
in front of the Mountain View Hotel.
Here we dine, the pony is stabbed. rubbed
down and given goodly measure of oats.
and, under the shade of the majes tic oaks.
we linger until mid-afterno0n. Then,
once more, we are in the buggy, Ophella
by this time shorn of her floral
decorations and are proceeding north
ward. Anything more wholly diff
ferent than the landscape on this side of
the bay from that we left 10 the morning
would be difficult to imagine. The country
through which we are now passing Is ole
great park. the land held in enormous
tIdClS Dy Il lew OWu6ES, IU6 UOuSbS lew anu
far between. They are elegant ones, how
ever. when they do appear, and the whole
scene Is a lovely one. On this road we be-
gin to meet Weary Raggles. singly, by
twos and travellDg in parties. We had seen
none of his Kind on the other side.
We drive through Maytield, where we
had arranged to have letters sent, and
secure our mail, then on to Palo Alto.
where, in one of the delightful boarding
houses in the university grounds, we secure
comfortable quarters and derlded to settle
down for few days. Tomorrow is Sun
day, and pony shall have rest while we
attend church and worship adown the
grand emerald aisles of the cathedral of
oaks and hills Here we raise our Eben-
ezer" under the blue arch of heaven, and
find, in truth, that 1t is good for
us to be in this place, and here
we pass three bissiul days, taking
long walks and drives over the
| surrounding country, wandering through
the university buildings, and browsing in
the great library. If there is any busy,
workaday world outside this fair retreat
we know nothing of it. Even the news of
Evans death and Sontag's arrest does not
| awaken us from our delightful dream.
We never could have felt thus had we
| rushed down here by train.
| But even such dreams have an end, and
In the afternoon of the fourth day our lit
| tie grips are again slowed in the buggy.
| we bid farewell to Pao Alto, with its
beautiful hills and groves aud its exquisite
| buildings, we even have q regretful thought
| for the Eideous rows of ugly barrack-like
residences with which the fair landscape