THE LITTLE TOWN OF THE 

 GRAPE VINES 



THERE are still some places in the 

 west where the quails cry '' ciiidado'' \ 

 where all the speech is soft, all the man- 

 ners gentle ; where all the dishes have 

 chile in them, and they make more of the 

 Sixteenth of September than they do of 

 the Fourth of July. I mean in particular 

 El Pueblo de Las Uvas. Where it lies, 

 how to come at it, you will not get from 

 me; rather would I show you the heron's 

 nest in the tulares. It has a peak behind 

 it, glinting above the tamarack pines, above 

 a breaker of ruddy hills that have a long 

 slope valley-wards and the shoreward steep 

 of waves toward the Sierras. 



Below the Town of the Grape Vines, 

 265 



