heard them called the backbone of
America, and they are among the grandest works of the Creator. After
passing Cape St. Lucas, we had colder weather.

But I must not forget to tell you of my going around the ship, with the
commodore, when he was "inspecting" it. Grandma was not well enough to
go, but grandpa and I went. How I wish you could have peeped with me
into all the cupboards and utensils, and have seen how neat every thing
was,--the dishes were so white, the glasses so clear, and the tins so
bright! The commodore rubbed his fingers inside of a kettle, and if they
were the least bit soiled, it would have to be done over again. On one
shelf was a great pile of loaves of bread. We went into the
slaughter-room, to see the butcher's establishment; it was as clean and
sweet as a kitchen. The little lamb, three days old, was brought out for
my amusement, and doubtless pleased its mamma very much by showing off,
and saying "baa," like a dutiful child! What a funny party we were, the
portly commodore with your small aunty leaning on his arm, he sliding
through narrow doors sideways, pulling me after him; then tall grandpa,
and our little thin surgeon following in his train! I asked the head
steward to tell me how much he cooked every day for all on board. We had
about five hundred passengers, beside officers and crew. He told me
fifty gallons of soup, fifty pounds of mutton, ninety pounds of pork,
four hundred and seventy-five pounds of beef, sixteen pounds of ham,
twenty-four chickens, ten turkeys, eight hundred pounds of potatoes,
two barrels of flour, making two hundred and twenty-five loaves of
bread, fifty pies, forty-five pounds of butter, five pounds of lard,
five pounds of cheese, and ten gallons of milk. Just think what a great
boarding-house our steamer was!

On the 7th of February, we entered the "Golden Gate" of California, and
about four o'clock were at the wharf at San Francisco.

"The _Golden Gate!_" said wee Alice, in astonishment, "They don't really
have a golden gate; do they?"

We all laughed at the little one's earnestness, and then I told her it
was only a narrow entrance to San Francisco Bay, perhaps a mile wide
between the headlands.

"Well, what do they call it so for?" said she.

I suppose because a great many who went to California thought they would
get a great deal of gold, and as they all went through that narrow
entrance, it was called the Golden Gate.

"Supper, supper," here cried