362 CHANNEL ISLANDS OF CALIFORNIA 



long amber-hued vine up out of the water. "The 

 stem is made into a dozen, perhaps less, canes. We 

 dry it under slow heat, polish it, touch it up with oil 

 and have a freak cane, — not the kind you would want 

 to carry on Broadway, but our patrons don't all walk 

 on Broadway. They belong to the great rich tourist 

 class from the towns and cities of the Middle West; 

 farmers who make enough in summer to come out to 

 California and live all winter, and they are the people 

 who will buy anything that they have never seen 

 before, and kelp hits them hard. 



"Of course, canes are not the only things we make. 

 You see, we offer premiums to our girls for new ideas, 

 and they are constantly inventing things; and as a 

 result we have a lot of standard kelp articles, as cups, 

 baskets, chains, necklaces, paper weights, German 

 favors, and almost everything you can think of or 

 that can be twisted into shape. Between you and 

 me, it is about the homeliest lot of stuff that was ever 

 turned out for the tourist trade, but it sells; they want 

 it, and we propose to supply it if we loot the whole 

 Pacific Ocean. Then, again, my share of the partner- 

 ship is not so bad as it might be. 



"It keeps me out of doors, and wandering along the 

 beach is not such a disagreeable pastime as one might 

 imagine. I see a lot of curious things — diversions 

 that some people would give a good deal to see. I 

 come down at flood tide, pick up the kelp and haul it 

 high above the water mark, and in a little while I can 

 cover three or four miles. Then I come down from 

 my place, back here a mile from the beach, with a 

 hay wagon, and we pack the kelp in as we would hay, 

 though it is much heavier. Then it is carried to my 



