XIII. 



©lo Que'Bfo Re T2)ox*> sKngefeA. 





^0 start for the City of Angels on foot was, indeed, a 

 prosaic way of traveling. The steed of Pegasus 

 would have been none too good as a mode of transit 

 to so poetically named a town; but there being no such 

 animal then at livery in San Bernardino, and having not the 

 wherewithal to hire him had there been, I was fain to mount 

 the hack traditionally under the ownership of one Shank and 

 start on my journey. This being A\dthout money and without 

 price, I was soon ready for my seaward tramp. 



To say that I made a prepossessing appearance would be 

 wrong. I did not resemble the "Views afoot" tourist with his 

 trim suit, his neat knapsack and staff. The most of my worldly 

 goods were in an old carpet-bag, the counterpart of which is 

 only seen nowadays in the hand of bucolic strangers in the 

 city, or on the comic stage. In addition there was a pair of 

 boots as hard as the adamantine heart of Pharoah, and so tight 

 I could only wear them "turn about" with a pair of thin 

 Indian moccasons. They had clung to me with a Damon-and- 

 Pythias-like tenacity, or like " The Old Man of the Sea " to his 

 victim, and were a part of my monthly hire in Michigan. I 

 had borne their infelicities to Salt Lake, when a Mormon cob- 

 bler put §2.00 expense on them, after which I could not afford 



(184) 



