Ill 



THE WOMEN OF THE WEST 



IEEMEMBER a pretty Californienne with whom 

 I used to dance, a true daughter of the West, 

 charming on account of her beauty, vivacity, health, 

 and youth. She had never left the Pacific Slope — 

 except on the wings of a perfervid imagination — 

 and she afforded an amazing contrast to other young 

 women of my acquaintance, the gilded girlies who had 

 had what is humorously called advantages, — a season 

 in London, a winter in Riviera, a summer at New- 

 port, and so forth. Perhaps I had better say at 

 once that in speaking of the men and women and 

 children of the Pacific Slope, I do not include the 

 Anglo-Franco-Americans, who have built around 

 themselves a stone wall that I, being an English- 

 man, am willing to respect. 



Our pretty Californienne dines in the middle of 

 the day and sups at six. The same girl, in England, 

 would be painfully ill at ease in the presence of a 

 stranger. Moreover, you would note regretfully 

 that the English girl's skirt was ill hung, that her 

 hair was somewhat tousled, that her shoes were 

 vilely cut. The Californienne, on the contrary, 

 challenges criticism out of a pair of sparkling eyes. 

 "Take a square look at me," she seems to say; "it 

 will brace you up." Should you accept this invita- 

 tion in sober earnest, defiance will curve her lips 



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