A Truthful Woman in Southern California

Fifteen cents for motor, ferry, and car will take you to Hotel Florence, on the heights overlooking the bay, where I advise you to stop. The Horton House is on an open, sunny si...

Just as a woman is leaving her friends she ever has the most to chatter about. How can I say _au revoir_ briefly when there is so much more to tell? I so earnestly want to give...

To see Santa Barbara at its best you must go there for the Floral Carnival. Then at high noon, on a mid-April day, all State Street is brilliantly decorated with leaves of the d...

The route extends easterly from Los Angeles to San Bernardino _via_ Pasadena. Beyond San Bernardino is the "loop," which will take us twelve miles farther east to Mentone, and a...

At Pasadena the mountain wall which guards the California of the South stands very near and looks down with pride upon the blooming garden below. The mountains which belong espe...

For my own taste, I prefer Pasadena, the "Crown of the Valley"--nine miles from Los Angeles, but eight hundred feet higher and with much drier air, at the foot of the Sierra Mad...

In walking through the streets of Santa Barbara you may still see the various types, but not so clearly defined as of old. Holy Fathers still intone the service within the massi...

Sweet sixteen and an "awful dad." Santa Barbara and Dioscurus. Such a cruel story, and so varied in version that the student of sacred legend gets decidedly puzzled. The fair-ha...

I associate Coronado Beach so closely with Warner (Charles D.), the cultured and cosmopolitan, that every wave seems to murmur his name, and the immense hotel lives and flourish...

All through Southern California I hear words of whose meaning I have no idea until they are explained. For instance, a friend wrote from San Diego in February: "Do not longer de...

"Knowest thou the land where the lemon trees bloom, Where the golden orange grows in the deep thickets' gloom, Where a wind ever soft from the blue heavens blows, And the groves...

On the Surf Line from San Diego to Los Angeles, a seventy-mile run along the coast, there is so much to see, admire, and think about, that the time passes rapidly without nappin...

"O southland! O dreamland! with cycles of green; O moonlight enchanted by mocking-bird's song; Cool sea winds, fair mountains, the fruit-lands between, The pepper tree's shade,...

Yes, as California is. I resolve neither to soar into romance nor drop into poetry (as even Chicago drummers do here), nor to idealize nor quote too many prodigious stories, but...