"Twenty Hill Hollow 



make you a new creature indeed. Or, choked 

 in the sediments of society, so tired of the 

 world, here will your hard doubts disappear, 

 your carnal incrustations melt off, and your 

 soul breathe deep and free in God's shoreless 

 atmosphere of beauty and love. 



Never shall I forget my baptism in this font. 

 It happened in January, a resurrection day for 

 many a plant and for me. I suddenly found 

 myself on one of its hills ; the Hollow overflowed 

 with light, as a fountain, and only small, sun- 

 less nooks were kept for mosseries and ferneries. 

 Hollow Creek spangled and mazed like a river. 

 The ground steamed with fragrance. Light, 

 of unspeakable richness, was brooding the 

 flowers. Truly, said I, is California the Golden 

 State — in metallic gold, in sun gold, and in 

 plant gold. The sunshine for a whole summer 

 seemed condensed into the chambers of that 

 one glowing day. Every trace of dimness had 

 been washed from the sky; the mountains were 

 dusted and wiped clean with clouds — Pacheco 

 Peak and Mount Diablo, and the waved blue 



[211 ] 



