1 54 Life and Sport on the Pacific Slope 



at my coat, "who toils not, neither does he spin. 

 And Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like 

 unto him." This was so obvious to the meanest 

 understanding that the speaker's assurance seemed 

 superfluous. I know now that he was protesting 

 against a costume that, in a sense, distinguishes 

 the man who rides from the man who walks. The 

 same spirit inspired another gentleman of humour 

 and imagination to enroll himself in a hotel register 

 as " John Jones, and valise," merely because the 

 last entry immediately above his ran: "Thomas 

 Smith — and valet." 



I mentioned just now the Burlingame Country 

 Club. The history of that club has, I think, 

 peculiar interest, because it is the epitome, the 

 substantial sum and substance of what the Anglo- 

 Franco-Californians have accomplished in a single 

 ^ decade. In its way it is unique, because it does 

 encompass and manifest so much that is good in 

 contemporary French, English, and American life. 

 Such as it is, moreover, it must be seriously 

 reckoned with as a factor in the development of 

 the Pacific Slope. It has passed the experimental 

 stage; it stands upon a firm social and financial 

 basis ; it has withstood ridicule, envy, and internal 

 dissension. The word club will mislead English 

 readers, for the Burlingame is not, as Hurlingham 

 or Eanelagh, a mere place of amusement, but a 

 colony where people live — some of them all the 

 year round — a colony of persons who have tacitly 

 agreed to obtain, regardless of cost, the comforts of 

 life, and to rigorously exclude the mean, the sordid, 

 and the common. Burlingame is a model village 



