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HUMIDITY.

Month.

72.0

80.0

64.5

Number of days at Los Angeles with tem- saving them from the excessive temperature perature above 90°, 4; highest temperature re- and the rapid evaporation of the Sacramento corded, 93o.

and San Joaquin country. Winter flannels are only changed to a lighter summer flannel. In

eleven years of residence at Los Angeles I doubt Sacramento. Los Angeles.

if I have worn a linen coat upon an average July...

43.0

61.8
August.

46.0
64.5

five days a year; many years I have never had September..

43.0
62.1

one on at all.
October..

49.0

67.4 November

46.5

Another factor enters into the problem of the
December..

74.0
56.4

climate of Southern California. The influence January

79.0 61,0 February

69.3

of the Sonora summer's rain current is sensibly March.

74.0 72.7 felt everywhere south of the Tehachape MountApril.

65.0
69.8

ains.
May.

57.0 70.4
June. .
53.0 72.0

Rains are common in all the mountains of

Southern California during the summer months, Annual mean........ 61.3

with a moist, cloudy air in the valleys. Three AVERAGE ANNUAL RAINFALL.

seasons in eleven years I have seen heavy rains

of several hours duration, extending all over Sacramento, 18 inches ; Stockton, 16.8 inches ; south the valleys, in July and August. During these end of San Joaquin Valley, 6.5 inches (these three measurements are taken from the official report of the State months of every year thunder-storms with often Engineer, 1880); Los Angeles, 17.97 inches (average vivid lightning can be seen, sometimes daily, for the last eight years, as shown by rain-guage kept by following along the line of the mountain chains. Mr. Ducommun, at Los Angeles).

These summer rains help in a measure to keep

up the volume of water in the rivers for irrigaA comparison of the foregoing tables shows tion, while all over the valleys the moist air Los Angeles to possess, as contrasted with Sac- which the rain current brings is instrumental ramento, an atmosphere warmer and drier in in materially checking evaporation. The sumwinter, and cooler and moister in summer, while mer has little of the harsh dryness of the clithe table of precipitation shows the average mate in the northern portion of the State. The annual rainfall of eighteen inches at Sacra- humidity of the atmosphere is shown by the mento diminishing as you go south, in accord- great fleecy cumuli, which float slowly across ance with the law already mentioned, to 16.8 at the sky like the summer clouds of the Eastern Stockton, and in the Tulare and Kern Valleys, States, and by a peculiar softness of air resemstill farther south, to only 6.5 inches. Yet at bling much the balmy mildness of the MediLos Angeles, in Southern California, it has sud- terranean. denly risen again to 17.97 inches, almost the This soft, moist air admits of the raising of same as at Sacramento. The cause of this has one product not elsewhere extensively cultialready been explained in the first part of this vated in California. Here, as in the Mississippi article.

States, corn is the staple crop, its broad, green The warmer winter in Southern California, leaves luxuriating in the warm air in which it as compared with the more northern portion of delights. So the rank growth, and the rich, the State, and the greater exemption from cold, juicy green of the orange and fig leaves, show drying winds, make this amount practically the mildness and the humidity of a climate equivalent to a larger rainfall in Upper Cali- which to them is home. fornia, as vegetation is not so much retarded The drainage from the watershed of the by the cold of December and January, but the Sierra, which stands as a huge background to whole of the winter becomes a growing season.

the whole system of valleys, affords an unThe growing season is also prolonged by the

usually abundant supply of water for the purfogs and humidity of a late, cool spring. The poses of agriculture. Over much of the land heat of summer sets in late. The season is a double crop is raised-small grain without irseveral weeks behind that at Sacramento. Al-rigation in winter, corn by irrigation in summer. most nightly, until July, a heavy fog rolls in, Besides the three principal rivers rising from wrapping the more open portions of the coun

the Sierra—the Los Angeles, the San Gabriel, try in a cloud of mist-at times almost a driz- and the Santa Aña--each cañon for a hundred zling rain - which does not lift until several miles gives its small brook, and the underhours after sunrise.

ground flow is so great that the number of The daily sea-breeze, only slightly obstructed flowing artesian wells is estimated in the State by the low fragments of the Coast Range, finds Engineer's report at nearly one thousand. The its way to all portions of the system of valleys, I cienegas are also a peculiar feature of these val

leys. The underground flow from the Sierra This, however, is only one of a number of here and there comes to the surface, making climates developed. There are local peculiaristretches for miles of moist land, green with ties which one would not suspect until after grass in the driest part of the summer.

actual residence. Along certain lines lie what The broken, hilly Coast Range, lying at the might be termed wind-belts. These are caused verge of an upland plain between the Sierra by the breaks in the Coast Range of hills. The and the sea, affords innumerable natural sites night fogs also are more apt to follow certain for extensive reservoirs for the storage of the well defined courses; and in the winter frost winter floods, thus saving the winter water for has its sections of preference, while other porsummer irrigation. Many small reservoirs have tions of the country escape entirely. There is been built upon this upland plain, and in the a varied choice of climates within a comparahills. The city of Los Angeles has commenced tively limited area. Within three hours by rail a series of such works, the largest finished cov. one may have the fresh air of the sea-side at ering some sixty acres. These southern valleys Santa Monica or San Pedro, with surf-bathing are by far the best watered portion of Califor- and a temperature always cool, even in the nia, while the extensive use of water for irriga- warmest days of summer; or, passing inland, tion is reacting upon the climate, making it still the grass lands and dairies of Compton and more humid.

Westminster, or the corn lands of Los Nietos The peculiarity of the physical character of and the region about Anaheim; the milder but the country which has been described, the prac- still essentially coast climate of Los Angeles tical obliteration of the Coast Range, and the City; then, passing within the line of the facing of the high Sierra directly outward to Coast Range, the still more sheltered San Gathe ocean, gives rise to one type of climate not briel plains, where the orange best flourishes; elsewhere found in the State. It is not the the inland wheat-fields of San Fernando Valclimate of the Coast Range; neither is it the ley, resembling somewhat the climate of the climate of the Sierra. It is a climate produced great interior valley of the San Joaquin; then by giving the daily sea - breeze of the Coast the warmer raisin lands of Pomona and RiverRange to the Sierra. It is a climate which side; the long fogless belt of the Sierra footcan hardly be described. The peculiar charm hills; and beyond, the alfalfa lands of San Berof it must be felt to be understood.

nardino. Along the base of the Sierra back of Pasa- And still beyond, a hundred miles inland dena, on eastward back of San Gabriel, past over the open valley from Los Angeles, is the Cucamonga with its noted vineyards, above San Gorgonio Pass, land-marked from the Pomona, and on beyond San Bernardino, grow- Colorado to the sea by the twin peaks, San ing warmer as it recedes eastward from the sea, Jacinto and San Bernardino, with snowy crests is a belt of foothills above the fog line, facing rising ten thousand and eleven thousand five out toward the noonday sun, looking down hundred feet above the plain. Here the Sierra across the plains, and the hills of the Coast breaks down, forming the only natural pass in Range, upon the warm southern sea, and yet all its long chain, the grassy plain, without even fanned daily by an ocean breeze that has no a dividing crest, swelling and rolling through at harshness. I do not say that there is no more an elevation of only two thousand nine hundred perfect climate than this belt affords, but I feet, a natural gateway for the southern transhave never seen one. The Southern Pacific continental roads upon their way to the East. Railroad upon its way to Arizona skirts the Beyond, is the great mystery of the rainless foot of this belt for a hundred miles.

desert.

J. P. WIDNEY.

THE CHILDHOOD OF CHARLOTTE BRONTE.

During the brief literary career of this noted In all her books, there is nothing whining or authoress, few personal details ever came to the sentimental, although much that is morbid; knowledge of the public. A curate's daughter, they seem to appeal to the reader with a mute a governess, a small, shy woman, living lonely pathos; and he knows that, under the story he among bleak moors in a sad parsonage, nurs- reads, another story is written. Miss Bronté ing sisters who died early, and were buried un- resembles Henry Fielding in this respect; not der her windows-these were all the facts that more entirely did he put himself into his stoshe had seen fit to communicate to the world. ries than did she. There are few eminent au

thors of whom the world will ever know as much The gentle mother died, and then began the as it does of Miss Bronté; for few authors, reign of an aunt, with strong prejudices and a when they have spoken for themselves in their distaste for Yorkshire, who went clicking up works, have ever such a friend to write their and down stairs in pattens, lest she might take biographies. Mrs. Gaskill has written many a cold, and at length took her meals also in her page, but she has never told a tale more tragic- bedroom. The children recited to their father, al than the life of Charlotte Bronté. She was and browsed upon all sorts of books; but at born in the year 1816, in the little, dreary town length the two eldest were sent to a school at of Haworth, which is built upon a steep street, Cowan's Bridge. Here they were starved and among the sad moors and barren hills of York- stunted, exposed to every hardship and disease, shire. Her father was curate of the parish; with all the heartless cruelty of charity instituher mother came from Cornwall, and never re- tions. The story of their sufferings is piteous; turned thither—a mild, pious, gentle woman, it is as sad in the history as it is in the burning, who bore her husband six children in rapid suc- indignant description of the school in Jane cession, then died; and lived only in their vague Eyre. Maria, the eldest, died in consequence memories and nursery traditions. So early the of this school, and Elizabeth contracted the home seemed to be cleared of the only gracious disease which soon swept her after. The father influence which might have modified the hard removed them from school, and an old servant, life of the children. The Rev. Patrick Bronté Tabby, came, at this time, full of all kinds of was an Irishman, and a very remarkable char- traditional lore, for which she found delighted acter. He makes a kind of grandiose impres- and enthusiastic listeners in the girls. There sion whenever he appears; a vast, savage nat- was a brother, Branwell, also, a weak, fascinature, an abortive Titan. Mewed up in the moors, ing, brilliant character, self-indulgent and idolat a time when Yorkshire was the roughest part ized by his sisters, and so winning in his ways of England; relieving his anger by firing off and conversation that he was always sumpistols in rapid succession at his back-door, moned to the village inn when the passing stuffing the hearth - rug into the fire until it traveler wanted amusement. sinouldered away, or sawing away the backs of The talent of the girls began to display itself chairs, riding and walking about with a loaded in domestic literature. They wrote every kind pistol, which was his inseparable companion, of work, and imagined an island, and had each cutting his wife's silk dress to shreds, putting their heroes among the living and eminent Eng. the gay shoes of his children into the fire, feed- lishmen of the time. Wellington was Charing them upon potatoes because he wished lotte's hero. He occupied her imagination, them to be hearty, and to have no high-flown and all her contributions to the mimic domesnotions—the Rev. P. Bronté, with his fierce, tic magazine were purported to be written by passionate, nature, was not likely to be the most “Lord Charles Albert Florian Wellesley." tender of parents, when dyspepsia set in, and he In 1831, Charlotte was the eldest living child; resolved to eat alone in his room, which he did very small in figure, calling herself “stunted,” to the end of his life. But, with all these sav- with soft, thick, brown hair, and eyes of a redage traits, he had a wild love of nature; walked dish brown. The rest of her features were far and wide, in all weathers, over the heaths; large and plain, and she was altogether very was faithful in visiting the sick, diligent in the quiet in manners and quaint in dress. She care of the schools, and was evidently a great- then went to school to a kind, motherly woman, ly misplaced and wasted force in the humble Miss Wooler, and amazed all the girls by knowcuracy of Haworth.

ing a great deal less and a vast deal more than While the dyspeptic father was firing pistols they did, by being moody and silent, then by out of the back-door, and eating alone in his repeating long pages of poetry, and declining to study, the mother was dying slowly of a cancer, play ball. She would stand on the play-ground and the house on the very edge of the grave- and look at the sky and the shadows of the yard was hushed.

trees, and talk politics furiously; or frighten The children had few books—their father the poor little girls out of their poor little wits would foster no nonsense; but Emily read aloud by telling horrible stories as they lay in bed at the newspapers, and they discussed the com- night. parative merits of Hannibal and Bonaparte. But the girls loved her, and Miss Wooler They gave preternatural answers to their fa- loved her, then and always afterward. After a ther's preposterous questions; and when he ask- year she went home again, and lived in solied his youngest girl, Annie, what such a child tude, passing her time in drawing, reading, and most wanted, she, instead of reveling in child walking out among the moors with her sisters, hood, answered, "Age and experience."

and devising plans with them for the education of their brother, who was finally destined for a all. They were what their parents and their painter. The three girls grew up together, life had made them. Inheriting the paternal Charlotte, sad, shy, and religious; Emily, with strength with the mother's gentleness, a youth, a suppressed vehemence of nature, and very bereaved of childhood, had passed in solitude reserved; Annie, the youngest and mildest of l and gloom.

GERTRUDE HARROW.

ORPHEUS AND EURYDICE.

A GREEK MYTH AS RELATED BY THE CAHUILLA INDIANS OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA.

A great pestilence had destroyed the people; “What hast thou here, sister? It smells of only an old woman and two children-a boy Earth!” and a girl-remained. When they grew up, She confessed that she had brought with her the man proved himself a great hunter, and the a mortal, her husband, and begged that he girl, who possessed remarkable beauty and a might be permitted to stay. She rehearsed lovely disposition, an adept in all household | his mighty deeds and many admirable qualities arts. In time they married, and now the old while on earth; but all in vain. Again were woman, fancying herself neglected, plotted the voices heard, still musical, but now stern against the life of her foster-daughter. Twice and threatening in their tones. she failed in her attempt, but the young wife, “Take him away!” they said. “Guided by aware of her design, apprised her husband, and love he comes, and love pleads his cause'; love told him that should she be slain in his absence, is all-powerful on Earth, but earthly love avails her soul would notify him of the fact by drop- not in the courts of Heaven !" ping tears upon his shoulder. One day, while Abashed by the evident displeasure of these hunting, he received the fatal sign, and hurried invisible ones, she still braved their anger, and home, but ere he could execute vengeance on pleaded for her love. She dilated on his many the hag, she transformed herself into a gopher, virtues and his great skill, until at last, despite and burrowed in the earth, where she had con- their assertion "that love availed not,” the spiritcealed the body of her victim.

guard relented, and he was allowed to make exFor three days and three nights he lay upon hibition of his acquirements, with a view to his the grave, lamenting the loss of his love, nor possible admission. He was required to bring tasted he of food or drink throughout that a feather from the top of a pole so high that weary vigil. At last he perceived a small the summit was scarcely visible; to split a hair whirlwind arise from the grave and disappear. of great fineness and exceeding length from Soon a second arose and moved toward the end to end; to make a map of the constellasouth, gradually augmenting in size as it pro- tion known as the “Lesser Bear,” and to indigressed. This he followed, and, passing over a cate the exact location of the North Star. Aidsandy plain, perceived that it left foot-prints; ed by his wife, he succeeded in accomplishing then knew he that it was indeed his wife. Re- all these tasks to the satisfaction of his examdoubling now his efforts, he gained upon the iners; but, in a trial of hunting, failed utterly, apparition, and, addressing it, was repaid by the game being invisible. A second attempt rehearing the voice of his love reply, “Return, sulted as before, and he had become discourO my husband, for where I go, thither thou aged, when his wife advised him to aim his arcanst not come. Thou art of the earth, but I rows at the beetles which few past him in great am dead to the world.” Nevertheless, impel- | numbers. led by his great love, he insisted on following, Acting upon her instructions, each beetle, even to the world of shades; and at last, moved when struck, proved a fat deer; and so many by his entreaties, she consented, but cautioned did he slay that the spirit-voices commanded him, “Forget not that no earthly eye may ever him to desist. They then addressed his wife, again see us !"

who was yet to him invisible. “Sister,” they They passed over a great sea, and entered said, “thou knowest none who enter here rethe realm of ghosts. He saw here no form, turn again to earth. Tucupar (heaven) knows but heard myriads of voices, sweet as the tones not death. Our brother-in-law hath done full of zephyrs, breathed lightly o'er Æolian strings, well, yet mortal skill may not avail to win a addressing his spirit-guide:

heavenly prize. We award him the guerdon, Love, chiefest of earthly blessings, in thy per- now, behold! the amorous flame leaps forth to son; yet only on one condition."

greet her, recumbent by his side, radiant with Then, addressing the husband, they said, beauty and health, and restored, as he fondly "Take thou thy wife. Yet remember thou shalt believes, to him and love. not speak to her, nor touch her, until three suns But, alas! one-half the lurid orb of day yet have passed. A punishment awaits thy disobe- trembles, poised on the western verge, as with dience."

passionate vehemence he pronounces her name, They pass from the spirit-land, and travel in and clasps to his faithful heart-not the form of silence to the confines of matter. By day she her he loves, but a fragment of decayed wood. is invisible to him, but at night, by the flicker- Heart-broken and despairing, he roamed the ing flame of his camp-fire, he perceives her out- earth ever afterward, until at last the spirits, in line on the ground near by. Another day he mercy, sent to him their servant, Death, who remains faithful to his instructions, and by the dissolved his mortal fetters, and carried him, evening blaze her form appears more plainly rejoicing, to the bosom of his love. than before. The third day has passed, and

J. ALBERT WILSON.

NOTE BOOK.

WE ARE IN RECEIPT of several numbers of the Kiel- of matronly, middle-aged summer, in lieu of the wintry er Zeitung containing a pleasant and appreciative re- gusts of the Baltic. But sometimes differences only emview of the article in the August number of THE CALI- phasize sympathies. We found one 'Tory Englishman FORNIAN upon Fritz Reuter. A former number of the who thought there were too many liberally educated Zeitung had contained a similar critique upon the article men in Schleswig-Holstein. We wish he could see the upon Klaus Groth, Ditmarsch, and Plattdeutsch, in the same fault in us. But all this is away from what we February issue. As to the essays themselves, the author wished to say, which was to assure our Kiel friends of did not, and does not, claim more for their merit than our distinguished regard, to wish long lives to its acathat they were mere rough suggestions to cultivated demic and naval gentlemen, and to hope that its poesy

Americans as to a new and fertile field in literature, and its Holstein roses may blossom forever. · which might be entered upon with a certainty of acquir

ing pleasant and healthful ideas in consonance with English and American tastes of mode and thought. IF ANY ONE IN THE WORLD IS TO BE PITIED it is the But we are glad that the appreciation which was shown man who has "lost his grip." Go along the street any for both Groth and Reuter in the articles in question fair day and you will see him leaning against the railing has aroused a warm feeling of friendliness in the bright in the sunshine, with a discouraged expression in his and cultivated town of Kiel, which feeling seems to have face, looking helplessly at the busy throng as it surges been enhanced by the fact that it was a genuine Amer- by. Draw near to him, and you will find him commucan, and not a stray naturalized German, who ventured nicative. All his barriers of reserve have been broken an English encomium upon the Plattdeutsch lyrist and down these many years. He will take it as a favor if you pastoral writer, Groth, and upon the prose-sketch writer, speak with him. He has a sort of apologetic appeal in Reuter. We of California are intensely material in our his voice that makes you pity or bully him, according wishes and aims; but if our hungry ambitions seem too to the style of man you are. He is doubtful of himself absorbing, it is not because we wish to underrate cult- even in the commonest matters. His only hope of prosure and ästhetical pursuits. The man whose fortune perity is to lean on some one, just as he leans against lies on a gambling table, no matter how much of an art- the railing in the afternoon sunlight. His opinions are enthusiast he may be, can have but a careless eye for all supplemented with, "Don't you think so?" If he the Venus of Milo while the croupier is extending his has anything to do, there is a premonition of failure in rake. So it is with the Californian. “Give me a fort- every gesture as he sets about it. His whole manner is une," he cries, "and I will be a willing disciple." But a mute protest against your reposing too much confiwhile the fortune is delayed, while his life-ship is still at dence in his ability to accomplish anything. But speak sea, he is impatient of the sound of the philosopher's of the past—then he will talk bravely enough. He will voice or the music of the poet; and it does not add to entertain you by the hour about his palmy days, how he his good nature to be asked to winnow out the fallacies had the finest store in the wholesale quarter, how he was of the one or the false notes of the other. But for all the leading spirit in the great wheat deal fifteen years our materialism and money-greed, we still can find ago, how he was this, that, and the other - always in points of sympathy with Kiel. We are a sea-port; so the past. Every one who now has money made it by a is Kiel. We are almost daily startled with the thunder trick or subterfuge that he can tell, with some asperity, of naval salutes; the streets of Kiel are alive with bluff the secret history of. You may learn from him of more naval officers. We, too, have a university; for is not skeletons that grin in costly closets than repose in the Berkeley just at our elbow to teach us grammar and most populous necropolis. Ten to one he knows the spelling? We have a different climate, it is true-a sort prices of all the stocks that are listed on the boards.

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