ve been willing to have it my funeral, every thing was so
genuine about it; no cant, and nothing superfluous.

We met with quite a disappointment in leaving San Francisco, to find
that our little Quong could not go with us. We thought we had obtained
leave from the proper patron; but at the last a brother appeared who
claimed to be superior authority, and forbade his going. As he seemed a
very gruff, disagreeable person, and, as the boy said, had never treated
him kindly, we advised him to disobey him; but he said it would never do
for a little China boy to disobey a father or an older brother; but,
when he was old enough, he would take ten dollars, and buy a pistol, and
shoot him.

APRIL 30, 1878.

We are only an hour's ride by cars and steamer from San Francisco. It is
hard to believe it, it is so wholly different a place. Before us is a
field of blue nemophilas. To see them waving in the wind, recalled to me
what Emerson said about its restoring any one to reason and faith to
live in the midst of nature,--so many trivial cares and anxieties
disappeared at the sight of it. On the other side, the water rolls
softly up to our very door. We bathe in it, floating about at will in
warm or cold currents.

The first morning after we moved here, I noticed two small hills and
holes, newly dug, beside our door. A curious little head thrust itself
out of one, and two small eyes peered at me. They belonged to one of the
little underground creatures, called gophers, that we have all about us.
They eat roots, and it is almost impossible to cultivate any thing where
they are. They appeared to have come just because they saw that the
house was going to be occupied. I think they like human company, only
they want to keep their own distance. They and the lizards quite animate
the landscape. The gopher's wise, old-fashioned looking head is quite a
contrast to that of the lizard, with its eager, inquisitive expression.
There is always a little twisted-up head and bright eye, or a sharp
little tail, appearing and disappearing, wherever we look. They spend
their whole time in coming and going. Their purpose seems to be
accomplished, if they succeed in seeing us, and getting safely away.

The wagoner who moved us over from San Francisco made some commiserating
remarks concerning me, as he deposited the last load of furniture;
saying that it was a good place to raise children, but would be very
solitary for the woman.

It is a lon