; but this seemed to be more of a
recreation than a business with them. They were never harassed nor
hurried about any thing. They lived mostly outside their little dark
dwelling, only seeking it at noon for a _siesta_. In the morning they
placed a mat under the trees, and put the babies down naked to play on
it, shaking dawn the leaves for play-things. Sometimes they cut a great
piece of meat into narrow strips, and hung it all over our fence to dry.
This dried meat, and melons, constituted a large part of their food. The
old mother was called _Gracia_, but she could never in her youth have
been more graceful than now. She was as picturesque still as she could
ever have been, and perfectly erect. She wore a little black cap, like a
priest's cap, on the top of her head, and her long gray hair floated out
from it over her shoulders; and, with her black mantle thrown as
gracefully about her as any young person could have worn it, we used to
see her starting out every morning to enjoy herself abroad. She appeared
one morning at our window, before we were up, with her arms full of
roses covered with dew, eager to give them to us while they were so
fresh.

We noticed her sometimes out in the yard, preparing some of the family
food, by the aid of a curious flat stone supported on three legs, and a
stone pestle or roller,--a very primitive arrangement. Kneeling down
upon the ground, she placed her corn, or Chili peppers--or whatever
article she wished to grind--upon the stone; and, taking the hand-stone,
she rolled it vigorously back and forth over the flat surface, crushing
up the material, which fell off at the lower end into a dish below. We
saw her making _tomales_, composed of bruised green corn,--crushed by
the process just described,--mixed with chopped meat, and seasoned with
Chili peppers or other pungent flavoring, and made up into slender
rolls, each enveloped in green-corn leaves, tied at the ends, and baked
in the ashes,--resulting in a very savory article of food.

Our only New-England acquaintances at Santa Barbara had evidently
modified very much their ideas of living. We found them with bare
floors; a great bunch of pampas grass, and a guitar hanging against the
wall, in true Spanish fashion; the room being otherwise mostly empty.

We had on one side the dark Santa Ynez Mountains, and on the other the
sea. The mountains are not very high but bold in their outlines; and the
number of crags and ravines gives t