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climate. These fires are wasteful and wholly unnecessary. They can
be stopped and we ought to see to it that they are stopped. A detail of
cavalry like those in the Yellowstone and Yosemite is the first thing.
Let our public bodies ask for it and our public men get it.

Sierra Madre, Cal.



244




THE
LANDMARKS



. V, ■-■:-■■• AT [:>-



n- ■* . ™. _ , OFFICERS:

President, Chas. F. Lummis.
Vice-President, Margaret Collier Graham.
Secretary, Arthur B. Benton, IK N. Spring St.
Treasurer, Frank A. Gibson, Cashier 1st Nat. Bank.
Corresponding Secretary Mrs M E. Stilson.

913 Kensington Road, Los Angeles.
ADVISORY BOARD: Jessie Benton Fremont, Col. £
Stearns Winn, Geo. H. Bonebrake. Tessa L Kelso, Don Marcos
C D. Willard John F. Francis Frank J. Pollev Rev. Wm. J.
Rt Rev. Joseph H Johns.,n. Bishop of Los Angeles.
J. T. Bertrand, Official Photographer



TO CONSERVE THE MISSIONS
AND OTHER HISTORIC
LANDMARKS OF SOUTHERN
CALIFORNIA.

DiaicToas :

Frank A. Gibson.

Henry W. O'Melveny.

Rev. J. Adam.

Sumner P. Hunt.

Arthur B Benton.

Margaret Collier Graham.

Chas. F. Lummis.
:. G. Otis, R Eras, W. C. Patterson. Adeline
Forster. Chas Cassat Davis. Miss M. F. Wills,
Chichester, Elmer Wachtel, Maj. H. T. Lee,



Junipero Serra's original adobe church at San Juan Capistrano (founded 1776) is now
saved. The broken roof of sycamore poles is replaced with a structure of Oregon pine:
and the old tiles have been replaced so that the roof looks precisely as it did in its
prime. The building will now stand for another century. The 400 feet of cloisters, re-
roofed by the Club, have been waterproofed with asphaltum as they were originally.
And thus the heavy work at Capistjano is done ; though there will be small expendi-
tures from time to time to carry out minor details of preservation.

San Fernando Mission has now been taken up. It will be remembered that the
Club has a ten years' lease on San Juan, with preference as purchaser if the property
should ever be for sale. The directors are very happy to state that its work at San
Fernando will be on the same advantageous and unusual footing. The enormous
monastery must be saved, and so must the great church. The former is a fine mass
240 x 66 feet ; but its roof is so ruined that the whole building will fall soon unless it is
made water-tight. The tiles must be carefully removed, an Oregon pine roof framed,
and the tiles replaced. There are also some terrible breaches in the walls. The church
is entirely unroofed ; and a shake covering must be put on temporarily — until the Club
can go to the heavy expense of buying tiles to cover it. To preserve these two buildings —
both so much larger than those at Capistrano — will require an immediate outlay of $2000;
and with the aid of a public so intelligent and so generous as this has proved itself, the
Club expectsto raise that sum. An illustrated article on San Fernando will soon ap-
pear in these pages.

The Southern Pacific Railroad has generously given the Club half freight rates on-
material for the work, and extended other courtesies.

The Club (and everyone who desires the preservation of our historic landmarks) is
again debtor to Bishop Montgomery, without whose courtesy, liberal spirit and cultured
interest in this work nothing of importance could have been accomplished.

The first annual meeting of the"Club will be held in I.os Angeles November 17, place
to be announced later. Reports of the work done will be presented, and officers elected
for the coming year. All members of the Club are cordially invited ; and all friends of
the work as well.

CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE CAUSE.

Previously acknowledged : Cash $920. so; services and material, $412: total. $1332.50.

1 The 55 credited in the October number as " collected by Mrs. Worrell " was con-
tributed by Mrs. D. F. Donegan. N. Cohen, Fred Eaton, T. D. Stimson, and J. S.
Brennan.j

NEW CONTRIBUTIONS I

Mrs. Frank McGrath. «5 ! BUM Perley, Ontario, $2.

$1 each: F. H. Agnew ; Mrs. Adolph Wood, Mrs. Seth Marshall, San Bernardino;
Mrs. John W. Davis, Colton ; H. W. Hellman.




If a man remembered, he would never run. It is only when almost
our memories are locked up and our minds gone a-fishing that 0UT °*^ W00DS

we panic.

Two years ago a great many respectable people fancied that this nation
was being and to be administered by the Debs crowd. A year later they
trembled at the frown of our new czar, the A. P. A. To-day these terrors
are like Moses, and no man knoweth where their graves are. A year from
to-day a man will have to dig as deep to remember that he ever feared
the business sense and the business honor of the country were going to the
repudiation bow-wows November 4, 1896. The fact of it is, men and
brethren, we can make many monkeys of ourselves by the way -side ; but
when we get in at even-tide it is not to the asylum. I would venture to
amend Mr. Le Gallienne's dictum that " a nation is a big fool with an
army." A nation is a wise adjustment of fools.

As the Lion was whelped among New England snows, and winters
passed his cubhood in them until long after he was old enough AND

to know better, he thinks he has some idea of the value of ten
below zero as a means of grace. For a boy, the Eastern winter is not
unredeemed. It would be a dullard indeed who could forget the sweet
thrill of landing a snow-ball (well case-hardened over night) just back of
the odious Burpee ear ; or the mile-a-minute on the double-runner down
Dolloff s hill ; or the merry bells and cuddled straw and icy moon as the
big pung crunched the snow ; or how the thirty-mile mirror of Winnipe-
saukee rang to his heel as he skated down the long line of bobbing
flannel flaglets and whopped out sinewy pickerel through the holes in
the ice. Verily it was good, and the Lion would be last in the world to
belittle those gallant sports.

But after all it was rather costly fun. Every year there were those
that paid the roses out of their cheeks and the spring from their step.
All of that " bracing cold " could not brace them again. Anyone who
knows the vital statistics of New England — the proud cradle of pneu-
monia and consumption — knows how they went. The yellow fever in
the South claims fewer victims.

Of course It "was cheaper for ipost of us ; but at best we gave four
months of danger and discomfort for maybe tenAiys of fun v , Jogging
the furnace, and thawing teet and hands and faces, and playing that the
ball and chain of overcoat, overshoes, tippet, mittens, ear-muffs and
chest-protectors was as pleasant as it was necessary ; breathing day and
night a vicious, superheated, humanity-poisoned atmosphere, and call-



2 46 LAND OK SUNSHINE

ing to people to " shut the door," lest a breath of God's air touch us
with congestion of the lungs ; watching the yearly funeral of Nature
(and those of friends who made too free with her) ; wading snow and
slush, and dancing to keep from freezing — it was rather more than a few
sleighrides were really worth.

No, the Lion is glad that having been many kinds of a fool he doesn't
have to be that kind any longer. He can live anwhere, not being tender;
but he prefers to live where it is worth while. It is good enough for
him where God is goodnatured all the time, and where his own cubs,
now, sleep every night in the year by an open window, and every morning
leap into an unheated bath by an open window, and get out doors every
day between one Christmas and another ; where they snowball with
Marshal Niels in February, and can by an hour's ride up the mountains
get real snowballs, or by an hour the other way tumble into the Pacific
breakers and out all aglow. If there is no sugaring-off for them to go to
at the risk of their lungs, fresh fruit every day of the year seems to keep
them from missing it ; and if a prudent Providence does not furnish ice
half the year to keep them from spoiling, the eternal sunshine seems to
soak into their tempers.

It is good enough for the Lion. But being a tolerant beast, he doesn't

mind if others prefer to live in prison a third of the year for the relief

of getting out in time to rest a little before the sunstroke season comes

on.

every- Perhaps the most disheartening token of the multiplication of

body's stupidity is the fashion in which we are permitting the ruin of

BUSINESS

our forests. Fat-witted with civilized ease we munch our daily
bread, and think dollars, and bat our eyes at whatever might set us to
thinking anything else, smugly complacent while a lot of idiots and a
sprinkling of criminals proceed to turn our paradise into a desert. The
forests of the Southwest are small compared to our enormous area ; and
this is particularly true in Southern California. It is not too much to say
— as everyone not wholly ignorant of science knows — that this match-
less Eden of ours is dependent upon the forests of our water-sheds.
When those forests disappear from the abrupt peaks, our semi-tropic
valleys will begin to shrivel and go on shriveling, until their fertility is
gone. What have our children ever done to us that we should desire to
bring the desert upon them ? Yet with a stupidity and carelessness
equally inconceivable, we are inviting that very thing. " Only a moun-
tain fire ! " Yes, only ! Southern California would be so pleasant with-
out water — and only those who trust in God and pour their powder down
the well can expect to have streams very long after the forests are
finished.

The government itself is waking up. The National Forestry Com-
mission has just been here to inspect the national reservations which
embrace most of our forests ; and the government will do what it can —
but it cannot prevent our incendiaries. We must to see to that ourselves;
and there is no person whose business or pleasure lies in Southern Cali-
f ornia, but has a personal interest in this matter. It is time for people



IN THE LION'S DEN. 247

who can think when they try, to see that we do something, and from and
after the year of grace 1896 there shall never be another serious fire in
the Sierra Madre.

Mark Twain needn't hurry about coming home. We all wish funnier
him back, bless his frowsled, rat-grey head — and full of new than

honors and new money. But he isn't essential to the preserva- twain.

tion of American humor. A few weeks before 500 sunstruck people
were buried in one day in that city (not to mention 1,750 other people,
who were sunstuck in that week but didn't quite die) a New York tup-
penny magazine published an enthusiastic article proving that New
York " is the ideal summer resort of America." It is. Like .

A certain romantic interest attaches to the class of people greenwood
who think the Almighty is not half so smart as the cement trees, and
contractor at eight cents per square foot. They set one to greenwouldn'ts.

wondering how much worse the Creator could have done if He had tried.

It is a sad fact of Nature that tree-roots frequently hump sidewalks up
an inch or two. Therefore, these folk who forget God will have no
trees. They prefer to wear bald sidewalks and blue glasses — or, more
exactly, to enjoy the baldness themselves and let their grandchildren
wear the glasses. But if the Maker has given a good deal of time to the
amusement of making freaks, He has remedied us with mortality. Los
Angeles will be the most beautiful city in the United States — when
enough of the people have died who think more of the blistered Portland
cement than they do of God's green trees.

With this number the fifth volume of the Land of Sunshine if we do
is ended — and a rather respectable volume, too, for an unsub- say it as

sidized magazine on the " frontier." From the start this little shouldn't.

monthly, of and in and for the Southwest against the field, has been
most generously treated at home and abroad. It is steadily growing in
business and in esteem. It has in its home field such a patronage as no
other magazine published anywhere ever had here. It has more Eastern
subscribers than the whole circulation of any other California monthly ;
subscribers in every State of the Union and every civilized country in
the world. It has found the affection of its home folks, the respect of
the critics, the practical friendship of the foremost writers. And it has
tried to deserve all these things not by acrobatics, not by polite lying,
but by doing honest work. It has tried to discourage literary swindling
and incompetency in its field, and to draw out the potentialities of
worthy work — and it has brought to light several writers of genuine
promise. It has demonstrated not only the value but the possibility of
the genuine magazine of locality ; and to its little audience of fifty
thousand readers — a small audience as the big magazines go, but an
unusually friendly one — begs to say again that its one ambition is to be
adequately and worthily the magazine of California and the Southwest.
A fit representative of such a field and such a population will be good
enough for any company anywhere.

Puck (in which I hardly think the article would have appeared a couple
of years ago) wishes to know " why all brainy women — women doctors,
emancipators, lawyers — are so homely ? " It is a very easy conundrum,
cherished jester. The answer is, because — they aren't.

There is, for sure, something in this similia similibus business, men-
tally as well as physically. Or maybe it comes back to the proverb that
a man becomes what he eats. Here is Lombroso, the great Italian guess-
worker who has fed for years on criminology. He has studied thieves
until he knows more about them than their Maker ever dreamed. And
just now he has been convicted and fined by a court of law for literary
theft.



248




THAT

WHICH IS
WRITTEN



JOY FOR-

AN HOUR.



EVENING

THE



is easy enough to see why the pen
is mightier than the sword. A thousand-
fold as many people think they know how
J}Bi>»> ,e to use it. These would be comparatively comfortable

times if all scribblers might be disarmed of their present weapons and
merely turned loose to do the community what little damage they would
be able to with cutlasses.

Richard Le Gallienne's Prose Fancies is an extraordinarily
pretty book ; a new proof of the artistic taste for which its pub-
lishers are so soon renowned. Nor does its attraction stop
with the beautiful dress. No one can doubt the exceeding cleverness of
Mr. Le Gallienne. He has imagination and heart to back his skill in turn-
ing epigrams at the drop of the hat. We do not demand too much of
the essayettist. So he be bright, brief and skilful at making a potato
into a proverb, he has his calling and election sure. And Mr. Le Gal-
lienne can do all these literary acrobatics much better than the average
of his fellows. But he could do something else ; and when one has read
this graceful volume and appreciated all its charms, one winds up with
wondering after all why the deuce he didn't. "A Seventh-Story
Heaven," " On Loving One's Enemies," and " The Fallacy of a Nation "
are the meanderings best worth while. Of the other chapters, many are
so very slight that it is hard to understand how they were deemed worth
saving past the periodical publication in which they were all very well.
Herbert S. Stone & Co., Chicago. $1.25.

If Hamlin Garland sometimes makes one itch to pick up the
first thing that comes handy to be thrown, he has also a redeem-
ing way of impelling one to choose a bouquet for missile. His
recent description (in Harpers' Weekly) of the Moqui Snake- Dance is a
fine, broad piece of work ; and so long as he will travel with that sort of
baggage no one will question his right to travel and tell. The ethnologic
explanations, learned from a wholly unnoted expeditioner, are not much
important ; but what Mr. Garland saw and thought about it is uncom-
monly interesting and instructive. If he was pompous in Mexico toward
a people he did not know, he is dignified here among equally unguessed
strangers — and all that makes so important a difference is that in the
latter case he did not bring a prejudice along. To see a little in-door
man patronizing the achievements of the great Mexican who has lived
and done more than a thousand lives of his would balance is amusing
enough once, but grows indigestible when every tuppenny tourist repeats



THAT WHICH IS WRITTEN. 249

it. And on the other hand it is encouraging and warming when a trav-
eler can see the human and elemental in a primitive race. Perhaps all
that Mr. Garland needs, after all, is to get out West and stay long enough
for it to soak in — but the really West, and not the Nebraska farm-hand
area with its pig-pen horizon. His first taste of the large aperient seems
to have worked very well.

He should, however, while he is making so good a job, abandon the
impertinence of that spelling " Moki " — an atrocity invented by certain
half-educated ethnologists who will probably never grow old enough to
know any better. Moqui has had a place in literature and history since
long before any of these mis-spellers had ancestors ; and people who
know anything of bibliography or of linguistics and have any sense of
fitness will retain it.

Those Good Normans is not only by "Gyp," but "Gyp" at "a bon
her sauciest. The sarcastic novel of manners is always enter- chat

taining, for sarcasm is dull only when it is directed at Us — and
as every rational being knows, a Bon Normand is always the
Other Fellow. Nationally as well as individually ; so we may duly and
doubly enjoy Madame la Comtesse's untender skill in the vivisection of
a parvenu career wholly unlike anything we ever see in this country.
She is so calm in her surgery that one does not fancy she has a grudge ;
and it seems a pity — for if she did hate the subjects she takes the scalpel
to, she would be having so much fun ! Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago.
$1.25.

It was hardly worth the Critic's nerves to feel an accusation friends
of unfriendliness or unfairness to the West. It was not a West- AND

ern accusation nor a responsible one ; for the tottering monthly
which made it is as little Californian as it is little honored. Without
standing at home or abroad in the matter of brains, its morals are coming
to be as well understood, for it has been repeatedly convicted of common
lying, to say nothing of theft. That the Critic at all noticed such a
charge from such a source is the best evidence of its more than desire to
stand well with the West.

Real Westerners recognize in the Critic an earnest, if not very inti-
mate, friend of whatever in the West can decently be befriended. It is
a friend also of the South and North, and Patagonia and New Jersey —
and every other place whence comes work that is good. Like the rest
of us it makes mistakes. Like millions of other fenced Americans it
cannot wholly understand the outer geography nor realize the people
who do not have to live in New York and those who think " all by their
lonesome." But it is a generous advocate of whatever it understands to
be literature ; and first and last it is doing its best for the literature of
the world, as the Overland is of late doing its worst for the literature
of California.

Deborah, the Advanced Woman, is not, as one might jump one
to guess, a story of to-day ; and indeed the subtitle is mislead- of the

ing and a mistake. "Deborah" was "advanced" fifty years mormons.

ago ; not to a profession nor to chronic unease, but merely to a dislike
of polygamy; and the book would have been more accurately ticketed
and far better sold if given a name in tune with its contents. The story,



250 LAND OF SUNSHINE.

by Mary Ives Todd, is one of Mormonism ; and the heroine, whose

mother was a victim of Joseph Smith, goes through the flight from

Nauvoo and other dramatic adventures. She is a Mormon, and so is her

lover-husband ; but both of them get enough of the Faith. The book is

well informed, and rather interesting, but lacks constructive skill. The

Arena Pub. Co., Boston.

here The ever-amiable Aug. F. Jaccaci ought to be aware, "on the

AND trail of Don Quixote " or off it, that to " Don " a Spaniard's

there. last name (" Don Pacheco" is the specific case in Scribner's) is

the last possible blunder. It would be just as conceivable to address

Victoria as " Mrs Queen."

Prof. Francis J. Child, of Harvard — " Stubby Child," to ten thousand
of his aging ex-pupils — died Sept. n, the last man of a noble company.
His'books never sold by the 50,000, nor have the newspapers ever dia-
grammed his underwear, and he was not a " popular idol." But few
men of his generation have done so much for literature, and few have
left monuments that will stand so tall in centuries after the "literary
successes " who grasshopper us to-day shall have been forgotten of their
very gravestones.

Chas. A. Keeler, the young scientist and poet of Berkeley, has printed
for private circulation The Promise of the Ages, a blank-verse proffer to
reconcile evolution and God. It is an ambitious undertaking ; but at all
events Mr. Keeler brings to it — as to all his work — dignity and earnest
thought.

This court has received official information that Hezekiah Butterworth
— the ignorance and dishonesty of whose article in the Review of
Reviews on South American poets were duly exposed here not long ago —
is not now "of the Youth's Companion." Nay, even that his connection
with that paper ceased a jear ago Provecho! The Companion is en-
titled to the benefit of the correction.

Prof S. J. Brun, of Stanford University, has issued a volume of folk-
lore Tales of Languedoc. Published by Doxey, San Francisco.

The Lotus, Kansas City, has burst into sudden bloom. Its September
number takes easy rank as the handsomest and most artistic of all the
bibelots. Walter Blackburn Harte has become the editor; and as he has
approved himself an earnest and vigorous writer, his connection is
enough to make us wish well to at least one bibelot in the shoal of them.

El Murido, the bright and attractive illustrated weekly of the City of
Mexico, has now a wide-awake daily edition.

Elizabeth Harrison, principal of the Chicago Kindergarten College,
has made a valuable book in her Study of Child Nature from the Kin-
dergarten Standpoint. If somewhat didactic, it is a volume any mother
should profit by reading. Or any father, for that matter.

She Fell in Love with Her Husband is a sufficiently exciting story of
love and hate and strikes in the German mines. " Hartmann " the
giant villain who after all has some right blood in him, is a rather strik-
ing character. The novel is by E. Werner. Rand, McNally & Co.,
Chicago ; paper, 25 cents.

Rhoda Broughton needs no guideboard among those who thrill over
her novels, and they will find and thrill over her latest — Not Wisely,
But Too Well. Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago. Paper, 25 cents.

Another of Werner's readable novels, The Price He Paid, is newly
issued in the " Globe Library." Rand, McNally & Co., Chicago. Paper,
25 cents.

This magazine is indebted to Hon. J. Sterling Morton, Secretary ot
the Interior, for publications of the Nebraska Historical Society, in
which he is an active working member.



251




E. C. BALD.




OTTO ZIEGLER.




W. COBURN.




O. S. KIMBLE.




The Bicycle Year.

(Srf famous trainer of bicycle racers said last spring
jtM| that there were ten thousand young men in this
country alone who are taking part in bicycle rac-
ing. California has at least five per cent, of them, in-
cluding some of the best. These young men, like the
college foot-ball players, are most of them as strong
mentally as physically.

The champion of 1895 was Edward C. Bald, of Buffalo,
and he has been one of the best this year. He gave Cal-
ifornia credit for his splendid work last year, as he came
here in the winter and had the benefit of this climate to
train in. Because he did not spend last winter here he
did not do as well this season.

The man of this season was Thomas Cooper, of
Detroit, who visited the Southwest last winter. Cooper
is perfect physically, and mentally he is the equal of any
of his rivals. Formerly he was a chemist, but found
bicycle racing more lucrative. This summer he was able
to send his sister and mother to Europe, as well as to help
his father, who is a poor man.

Otto Ziegler, the little German lad of San Jose\ who
is to become a lawyer after he gives up bicycle racing,
has earned his share of glory this year. Hardly a month
ago he had his arm broken in a fall. This threw him out



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