AN ORANGE GROVE, PASADENA.
A CALIFORNIA VINEYARD.
"How much wine do you make?" I asked the gentleman in charge.
"In one year," was the reply, "we made a million gallons."
I thought of the Los Angeles River which I had crossed that morning, and of its sandy bed one hundred feet in width, with a current in the centre hardly larger than the stream from a hose-pipe, and remarked, "Surely, in some portions of this land there is more wine than water." "Where do you sell it?" I presently inquired.
"Everywhere," was the answer, "even in France; and what goes over there you subsequently buy, at double the price, for real French wine."
AT THE BASE OF THE MOUNTAINS.