"Well, for all its big buildings and its electric lights, and trolleys,
and police and size, it's nothing more nor less than a frontier town."
"A frontier town!" echoed Bob.
"You think it over," said Baker.
IV
But if Bob imagined for one moment that he had acquired even a notion of
California in his experiences and observations down the San Joaquin and
in Los Angeles, the next few stages of his Sentimental Journey very soon
undeceived him. Baker's business interests soon took him away. Bob,
armed with letters of introduction from his friend, visited in turn such
places as Santa Barbara, Riverside, San Diego, Redlands and Pasadena. He
could not but be struck by the absolute differences that existed, not
only in the physical aspects but in the spirit and aims of the peoples.
If these communities had been separated by thousands of miles of
distance they could not have been more unlike.
At one place he found the semi-tropical luxuriance of flowers and trees
and fruits, the soft, warm sunshine, the tepid, langourous, musical
nights, the mellow haze of romance over mountain and velvet hill and
soft sea, the low-shaded cottages, the leisurely attractive people one
associates with the story-book conception of California.
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