had sold me a hat
that I couldn't afford either to miss or to buy, for half price, because
she said I'd talked to her like a human being, the year before--all of
which had warmed my heart. I think perhaps my statement was too
sweeping. Since we have changed oceans I notice that the atmosphere
of the West has altered my old standards somewhat. There is an
easy-going fellowship all through every part of life on this side
of the Rocky Mountains.

Take banks, for instance. Can you picture a dignified New York Trust
Company with bowls of wild flowers placed about the desks and a general
air of hospitality? In one bank I have often had a pleasant half-hour
very like an afternoon tea, where all the officers, from the president
down, came to shake hands and ask after the children. Of course, that is
a rather unusually pleasant and friendly bank, even for California.
Always I am carefully, tenderly almost, escorted to my motor. At first
this flattered me greatly, till I discovered that there is a law in
California that if you slip and hurt yourself on any one's premises,
they pay the doctor's bill. Hence the solicitude. I was not to be
allowed to strain my ankle, even if I wanted to.

Probably the same geniality existed in the East fifty years ago. I have
been told that it did. It is a very delightful stage of civilization
where people's shells are still soft, if they have shells at all. There
is an accessibility, a breeziness and camaraderie about even the
prominent men--the bulwarks of business and public life. We are accused
of bragging and "boosting" in the West. I am afraid it is true. They are
the least pleasant attributes of adolescence.

Banking isn't the only genial profession. There is real estate. Of
course about half the men in California are in real estate for reasons
too obvious to mention. Providence was kind in putting us into the hands
of an honest man, better still, one with imagination, when we came to
look for a winter bungalow. He saw that we had to have something with
charm, even if the furniture was scarce, and took as much pains over
realizing our dream as if we had been hunting for a palace. It was he
who found our "Sabine Farm," which brought us three of the best gifts of
the gods--health, happiness, and a friend. We had almost decided to take
a picturesque cot that I named "The Jungle," from its tangle of trees
and flowers, even though the cook could reach her abode only by an
outside staircase. The