The morning of November 3d found us away up among the mountains of the Sierra Nevada range, and here the scenery was a magnificent description, the great peaks being clothed almost to their very summits in robes of evergreen. Down toward the valleys clad in their suits of emerald green we rolled, the mountains giving away to hills and the hills to valleys as the day drew on, until we finally reached Sacramento, where we stopped for breakfast. Here we found just such a crowd to greet us as had met the train at Denver, the base-ball enthusiasts, who had been notified of our coming, having turned out in full force. Leaving Sacramento we passed through a most prosperous country dotted with orchards and vineyards as far as the eye could reach until we finally came to a standstill at the little station of Suison, thirty miles from San Francisco.

Here we were met by Mr. Hart, who, in company with Frank Lincoln, the humorist, and Fred Carroll, had gone on ahead of us to 'Frisco from Salt Lake City, and who had come out to meet us accompanied by a party of Pacific Coast base-ball managers, railroad men and representatives of the San Francisco press.

A telegram from E. J. Baldwin, better known by his soubriquet of "Lucky Baldwin," had been received by Mr. Spalding during the day, welcoming us to the city and to the Baldwin Hotel, and apprising us that carriages would be found in waiting for us at the foot of Market street. Landing from the ferry boats that carried us across the bay from Oakland, we found the carriages and proceeded at once to the Baldwin Hotel, where comfortable quarters had been provided for us. I had been notified by Mr. Hart while on the steamer, as were a half a dozen other members of the party, to get into a dress suit as soon as possible, and this I did with the help of Mrs. Anson, shortly after our arrival at the hotel. At 6 o'clock the invited members were escorted by members of the San Francisco Press and the California Base-ball League to Marchand's, one of the leading restaurants of the city, where we found a dainty little supper awaiting us, to which I for one at least did full justice.

After supper we attended a performance of "The Corsair" at the Baldwin Theater, two proscenium boxes having been reserved for the members of the two teams, all of whom were in full dress, and it seemed to me as if we were attracting fully as much attention, if not more, than were the actors.

There was a big Republican parade the night that we arrived there and the streets in the neighborhood of the hotel were literally jammed with people, while the cheering and the noise that continued long after the bells had proclaimed the hour of midnight made sleep an impossibility. Tired as we were, it was not until the "wee sma' hours" had begun to grow longer that Mrs. Anson and I retired, and even then the noise that floated up to our ears from the crowds below kept us awake for some time, and that night in my dreams I still fancied that I was on the train and that I could hear the surging of the rails beneath me. Glad, indeed, was I the next morning to wake and find that I was once more on solid ground.

[CHAPTER XX. TWO WEEKS IN CALIFORNIA.]

We were booked for a stay of two weeks in San Francisco, and that two weeks proved to be one continual round of pleasure for every member of the party. The appearance of the city itself was somewhat of a disappointment to me, and I soon grew somewhat tired of climbing up hill only to climb down again. The really fine buildings, too, were few and far between, the majority of them being low wooden structures that looked like veritable fire-traps. They are built of redwood, however, and this, according to the natives, is hard to burn. The fact that the towns had not burned down yet would seem to bear out the truth of their assertion, though the Baldwin Hotel was built of the same material, and that went up in flames a little over a year ago in such a hurry that some of the people who were stopping there thought themselves lucky to get off with the loss of their wardrobes and baggage, while others who were not so lucky never got out at all.

The natural surroundings of the city are, however, decidedly handsome, and I doubt if there is a handsomer sight anywhere than San Francisco Bay, a bay in which all of the navies of the world could ride at anchor and still have plenty of room for the merchant vessels to come and go. The shores of this bay are lined with beautiful little suburban towns that are within easy reach by boat and sail from San Francisco, and it is in these towns that a large proportion of the people doing business in the city reside. The people are most hospitable and at the time of our visit the base-ball foes and cranks, both in the same category, were as thick as were the roses, and roses in California greet you at every turn, not the hot-house roses of the East, that are devoid of all perfume, but roses that are rich with fragrance and that grow in great clusters, clambering about the doorways of the rich and poor alike, drooping over the gateways and making bright the hedges. Flowers were to be seen everywhere, and their cheapness at the time of our visit was both the wonder and delight of the ladies.