CHAPTER XXVIII.

"And this our life--exempt from public haunt,
Finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks,
Sermons in stones, and good in everything."


We next visited San Jose, one of the most romantically, beautiful towns in
California, which would require the subtle gift of genius, a touch of
poetic fire, and, above all, the fullness and richness of descriptive
power, to enable me to give any adequate conception of its charms. It was
almost a fairy realm, with its fields of waving grain, then golden with
the glow of the harvest season; trees laden with fruitage, and vineyards
drooping with their ripe, purple clusters.

One of the prominent attractions of the place was the residence of General
Negley, nestling in the centre of extended grounds, combining the richly,
blending beauties of nature and art. Groves and streams, rustic bridges
and flowing fountains, shrubby labyrinths and flowery dells, were grouped
in happiest harmony. Received by the General with the genial hospitality
which should characterize the presiding spirit of such an Eden, dispensing
itself in so many pleasant ways, we were led from house to garden, and
from vineyard to wine press, where all were temptingly lured to taste the
freshly pressed grape juice.

It was a novel sight to those accustomed only to white or negro labor, to