I20 Life and Sport on the Pacific Slope 



murmurs "Mr. Jones." If Mr. Jones be English, 

 she is sure to add: "From London, I presume." 

 This always annoys an Englishman of the upper 

 and upper-middle classes, because he does not wish 

 to be taken for a cockney. I can recall meeting 

 two ladies who were not from the country, but 

 essentially town-bred. They too " presumed " that 

 I was from London. I said, " No." 



" Perhaps," said the younger of the two, " you 

 have been in London ? " and on my admitting as 

 much, she continued : " And perhaps you have 

 met a friend of ours, Mr. Simpkins ? " 



I regretted that I had not the pleasure of Mr. 

 Simpkins' acquaintance, but the lady was not satis- 

 fied. " England " — I make no doubt that her 

 thoughts ran in this strain — " is a small country. 

 These men must have met some time and some- 

 where." Accordingly she smiled and murmured : 

 " He has curly hair and he was connected with a 

 large firm, yes, a very responsible firm — the jewel- 

 lery line. Are you sure you have never met 

 him ? " 



" Never," said I. 



" He had a jealous wife," she insisted ; " and his 

 hair was beautiful : black and curly — was n't it, 

 Sadie?" 



"He was an elegant gentleman," assented Miss 

 Sadie ; " and his wife was — terribly jealous." 



I hinted that curly hair and moral rectitude did 

 not always, so to speak, trot in the same class. I 

 have no doubt that Mrs. Simpkins was not jealous 

 without reason. 



In '86 the rise in the value of land, with increased 



