ifornia lemons had all the market their owners could wish for.
Certainly when one sees the care with which the fruit is grown, the
mellow sun under which it matures, and the skillful gathering, cleaning,
and packing of the packing houses, one wishes every right of way for
California lemons. One lemon grower told us that in the course of the
past twenty years he had advanced hundreds of dollars to his Sicilian
laborers who had asked his help to bring over their fathers, their
brothers, and other relatives. He said that kinsman after kinsman had
been brought over and had added himself and his work to the Corona
colony, and that their benefactor had never lost a dollar. All the loans
had been conscientiously returned in the course of time.

Californians look forward to a great flood of immigration within the
next few years, and hope that Europe will send them the men to till
their lands and cultivate their rich valleys and hill-slopes. There is
plenty of room for them in this splendid empire of a State.

CHAPTER V

It was an easy drive from Corona to Riverside, which we reached in the
late afternoon in time for a sunset drive up and around the corkscrew
road leading to the top of Mt. Rubidoux. No one should miss the view
from the top of Rubidoux Mountain. While its summit is not at a great
height, yet the mountain is so isolated and the whole surrounding
country is so level a valley that the view is very extensive. One looks
down upon the town of Riverside, with its pleasant homes and church
steeples; and upon miles of lemon and orange orchards groomed to the
last degree of fertility and perfection. It is an immense garden.
Orchards, towns, grassy spaces with a silver river winding through them,
all give one that sense, ever present in California, of happiness, of
genial climate, of unfailing beauty of surrounding.

At Riverside one stays of course, even if but for a night, at the famous
Mission Inn, known as the Glenwood. Here is the creation of a man who
has brought together in unique and pleasing combination the features of
an inn, of a great curio shop, of a cathedral, of a happy lounging
place. You may study for hours antique pieces of furniture; old
tapestries, old bells, old bits of stained glass. You may spend an
evening in the great music hall with its cathedral seats and listen to
the organ played by a finished and yet popular artist. You may lounge in
an easy chair on a cloistered porch. All these and