Letters to a Friend 



moment, unless it be in looking away out into 

 the dreamy west. I made a fine shaggy little 

 five days' excursion back in the heart of the 

 San Gabriel Mountains, and then a week of 

 real pleasure with Congar, resurrecting the past 

 about Madison. He has a fine little farm, fine 

 little family, and fine cosy home. 



I felt at home with Congar and at once took 

 possession of his premises and all that in them 

 is. We drove down through the settlements 

 eastward and saw the best orange groves and 

 vineyards, but the mountains I as usual met 

 alone. Although so gray and silent and unprom 

 ising they are full of wild gardens and fern 

 eries, and lilyries, some specimens ten feet 

 high with twenty lilies big enough for bonnets. 

 The main results I will tell you some other 

 time, should you ever have an hour's leisure. 

 I go north to-day, by rail to Newhall, thence 

 by stage to Soledad, and on to Monterey, 

 where I will take to the woods and feel my way 

 in free study to San Francisco. May reach the 

 city about the middle of next month, 

 r 186 1 



