THE ISLAND OF SAN CLEMENTE 139 



I agreed with Chinetti on this; also, that there is 

 music and companionship in the surf, and that a bottle 

 of water makes a very good picture. Then Chinetti 

 took out his library, and we pulled up to the table. 

 There were two large volumes; one was the bound his- 

 tory of one "WilUe Westinghouse Smith"; the other, 

 the life and adventures of a colored gentleman who was 

 continually applying for a position with the remark, 

 "I seen yo' ad in the paper." There were pictures 

 which had appeared in lurid colors in some Eastern 

 Sunday paper, and which constituted the delight and 

 perennial joy of Chinetti, who began to laugh at the very 

 sight of the book, roared as I opened it, and laughed 

 himself almost into hysterics as I read the lines. 



Then I began to laugh at Chinetti 's pleasure, and 

 forgot that I had been nearly twelve hours in the 

 saddle; forgot that I was away out on the end of a 

 lava bed, nearly a hundred miles from anywhere; 

 forgot that my friends were down in the alfalfa, and 

 laughed with Chinetti at the laughter of the dark 

 person in the book. At times Chinetti would look 

 behind him at the open door and jerk his thumb at 

 it, and say "Foxes laugh too." 



This free public library of San Clemente is not much 

 to look at, but I doubt if any collection in the country 

 affords more dehght to its patrons than does the two- 

 or-three-volume library of Chinetti. Previous to this 

 I confess I never could exactly see the value of such 

 works of art, but I am a convert. They make joyous 

 the life of a man cast in one of the most desolate and 

 barren of regions. My compliments, and apologies, 

 to the authors of "WiUie Westinghouse Smith" and 

 his colored colleague. 



