Anglo-Franco-Californians 153 



observation ; or, if you wore white polo unmention- 

 ables, " Say, Mister, ain't you forgot your pants ? " 

 Anything, in fine, that differed ever so slightly 

 from what they, as Californians, were accustomed 

 to, provoked ridicule and displeasure. Servants in 

 livery (the livery being regarded as a badge of 

 servitude), dog-carts, ponies with hogged manes 

 and bang-tails, knickerbockers, English saddles and 

 harness, and the like, were absolutely hateful to 

 them during the '80's. To-day, these prejudices 

 are evaporating. Indeed, the pendulum is swing- 

 ing far the other way. I remember being asked 

 to a luncheon given at the Burlingame Country 

 Club in honour of some distinguished New York- 

 ers who had acted as judges at the San Francisco 

 Horse Show. We drove down to the Country Club 

 upon coaches belonging to members, and I, the 

 Englishman (the only Englishman, so far as I can 

 recollect), out of all that large party wore the 

 ordinary clothes of the American citizen. The 

 others were attired in the latest sporting fashion. 

 Nor did their garments provoke criticism from the 

 foot-passengers. And yet, not half a dozen years 

 before, curiosity taking me to a revival meeting, 

 I had been publicly apostrophised by the gentle- 

 man (white) who conducted the proceedings. It 

 happened that I had been in the saddle all day, 

 and was wearing an aid check shooting coat and 

 a pair of well-worn breeches. I seated myself 

 upon the bench farthest from the preacher, and 

 was rather astonished to find myself an object 

 lesson to the assembly. "There sits one," ex- 

 claimed the revivalist, pointing a finger of scorn 



