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 IN 
 
 SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA 
 
 (DOWN TO DATE) 
 
 BY 
 
 MINA DEANE HALSEY 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 WHEN EAST COMES WEST 
 
 NEEDLES AND PINS 
 
 WHISKERETTA 
 
 ETC. 
 
 NEW YORK 
 PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR 
 
 By 
 
 J. J. LITTLE & IVES CO. 
 
 1912
 
 COPYSIGHT, IQOS, BT 
 
 M. D. HALSEY 
 
 Copyright, 1909, by 
 
 MINA DEANE HALSEY 
 
 CoPValGHT, I9I3, BY 
 
 MINA DEiVNE HALSEY 
 All rithls reserotd
 
 LIBRA TIY 
 
 .UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 SANTA BARBARA 
 
 This is an autograph edition 
 of " A Tenderfoot in Southern 
 California," the number of this 
 copy being —-.1-1^.
 
 TO GENE 
 
 And to the thousands of Angels (without 
 wings) who are contentedly floating through 
 life out in God's country, and to the thousands 
 who live in hopes of some day doing likewise, 
 I dedicate this little book.
 
 FOREWORD 
 
 Much has been written about California, and 
 Southern California in particular, as the native 
 or the average citizen sees it. To the tourist, 
 spending the winter in this garden spot, many 
 little occurrences happen daily, that pass un- 
 noticed by those living here, and to this end, 
 this small volume is offered in memory of the 
 many joys and trials combined, experienced by 
 one of the ever-present tenderfeet. 
 
 The Author.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 A Flea-Bitten Tenderfoot . . . . 1 1 
 
 Rooms for Rent 17 
 
 When it Rains 25 
 
 Auctions 31 
 
 Pasadena 37 
 
 How TO Spend Your Money .... 47 
 
 Bargain Sales 57 
 
 Mt. Wilson and Pasadena .... 65 
 
 Through Tourists' Glasses .... 75 
 
 California Yarns 79 
 
 The Whys and Wherefores ... 85 
 
 When East Comes West 91 
 
 Out in God's Country 95 
 
 Los Angeles Streets 107 
 
 Mt. Lowe 113 
 
 Counting My Money — Mebbe! . . .117 
 
 Some Things I Bought in Los Angeles 125 
 
 Just Dreaming 131 
 
 What Keeps the Pot A-Boiling . .141 
 
 Catalina Island 153 
 
 Homesick 159
 
 A FLEA-BITTEN TEN- 
 DERFOOT 
 
 HEN I came out 
 
 to California, 
 
 Bill, some blamed idiot who 
 
 knew it all, advised me what to 
 
 bring. 
 
 He said — (and I'll bet my old pair 
 of suspenders he never saw Californiii) 
 says he, 
 
 " Dont take any winter clothes out 
 there with you, its such a hot coun- 
 try you wont need 'em."
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 Wall, I didnt, and by gum, I like 
 to froze to death. 
 
 All I had in that blamed trunk of 
 mine was some peek-a-boo underwear 
 and drop stitched stockings. 
 
 I wore a summer suit and a straw 
 hat out on the train, to keep cool, and 
 was snow bound on the way to Los 
 Angeles, and frost bitten, by gum, after 
 I got here. It sure was a cold night 
 when we pulled in, and as the train was 
 four or five hours late, I footed it up 
 town, to a hotel. 
 
 I didnt put up at Mr. Alexandria's 
 or the Van Noose, as I heard on the 
 train they charged you extra to blow 
 your nose, if you stopped there. So 
 I found a room on Main Street (which 
 is nothing to be proud of) and the 
 landlady hollered after me, as I went
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 Up the stairs, not to blow out the gas. 
 
 I didnt. 
 
 By gum, I was so stiff with the cold, 
 I kept it burning all night to melt the 
 icicles I knew must be hanging to the 
 end of my nose. There was only one 
 measley pair of summer blankets on 
 that bed, and the pillows were so small, 
 I came blamed near losing 'em in my 
 ear before morning. 
 
 I went to bed with all my clothes 
 on, and the rest of the night I laid 
 there and shook until I jarred the bed, 
 and some fellar who had a room under 
 mine, pounded on the ceiling, and told 
 me to make less noise up there. 
 
 I couldnt help it — the slats in the 
 old bed were loose and rattled, any 
 way. 
 
 If ever I was lonesome, Bill, and 
 13
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 wanted to go home, I did that night. 
 
 It vvasnt because I was alone, either 
 — no, not that, for I'll bet I held up 
 over one hundred fleas in different sec- 
 tions of that bed and on me, before 
 morning, and every one of 'em was as 
 big as a rat. 
 
 Now of course I dont really mean 
 to say that they were that big, but by 
 gum, they looked so to me that night. 
 You know I never saw a real, healthy, 
 hustling California flea before. I 
 could see their eyes shine as they 
 looked at me, and I'll swear some of 
 'em had on glasses and carried lanterns 
 so they could find me easier. 
 
 There were old gray beards among 
 'cm that had voted for years, and I'll 
 bet hadnt had a square meal since the 
 last tenderfoot slept in that bed. 
 14
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 I found out afterwards, that they 
 dont bite the natives — skins are too 
 thick — but a real tender, juicy down 
 easter, is as much of a treat to 'em, 
 as a porterhouse steak is in a bum 
 boarding house. 
 
 IS
 
 ROOMS FOR RENT 
 
 ON EST to good- 
 ness, Bill, I had 
 no more idea what 
 I was going up 
 against, when I started out hunt- 
 ing rooms in Los Angeles, than a 
 good-natured turkey has on Thanks- 
 giving Day, when she sees a fellar with 
 a smile on his face, and a hatchet in 
 his hand, sneak up behind her. 
 
 A man on the train told me the best 
 way to do was to rent a room or two, 
 17
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 and take my meals any old place. I 
 must have found some of the " old " 
 places first, and some were older than 
 others, Bill. This fellar said there 
 were two hundred rooms for rent in the 
 Westlake district, and I must have got 
 around to i99><2 of 'em before I felt 
 that I had had my money's worth, and 
 took his word for the few I'd missed. 
 I got back to the hotel somehow, but 
 suffering Kansas! — my head ached, my 
 knees had given out altogether, and my 
 stomach rolled and pitched so I 
 couldn't eat anything for days. 
 
 Of all the sights, and the sounds, and 
 the smells. Bill, I ever had thrown at 
 me, shoved down my throat, plastered 
 all over me, in the sixty odd years I've 
 been on earth, I found 'em that first 
 day, hunting rooms.
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 There were sights in some of those 
 rooming houses that old P. T. Barnum 
 would have mortgaged his circus to 
 have got hold of — there were sounds in 
 those rooming houses that any first- 
 class crazy house would have been 
 ashamed of; and smells — well, I can't 
 seem to find the right words to make it 
 plain as I wish I could, Bill. Anyway, 
 my stomach didn't get settled down 
 and feel at home for over a month, and 
 for weeks every blamed automobile 
 that passed me, that had a smell to it, 
 cost me the price of a bromo seltzer. I 
 had to take so many bromo seltzers 
 that some of the drug clerks reached 
 for the bottle whenever they saw me 
 coming in the door, and one fellar 
 asked me if I didn't want to buy out 
 half the business. I thought I knew 
 19
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 just about what I wanted when I 
 started out hunting for rooms, but, 
 by gum, I changed my mind worse 
 than any female you ever heard tell 
 of. 
 
 Why, Bill, you don't know enough 
 to last you over night, after you've been 
 through half a dozen of those rooming 
 houses! 
 
 Fact. 
 
 I'll bet my mouth was wide open 
 and my tongue hanging out by the time 
 I got to the last place. I remember I 
 was so " all in " that I said *' yep " to 
 everything the woman told me, and 
 handed out $5.00 deposit on a room I 
 wouldn't put my old shoes in, just to 
 stop her talking and give her a chance 
 to get her second wind. Why she 
 looked like she'd bust a bloodvessel, if 
 20
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 she didn't stop talking long enough to 
 swallow. 
 
 Bill, you never even heard of a 
 "kitchenette," did you? 
 
 Well, by gum, I've seen one — yes, 
 sir, had to live to be 65 years old, to 
 know what a " kitchenette " was. 
 
 No, you're wrong. Bill — they ain't 
 anything like the kids get in their 
 heads at school — nope — but I can 
 swear that some of 'em was alive, for 
 the landlady insisted on showing me 
 just how much was furnished for $25 
 a month, and some things must have 
 been thrown in for good measure, be- 
 cause she didn't mention anything 
 extra for some of the things / saw. 
 
 Now, Bill, a " kitchenette " is a kind 
 of a room that the fellar that built the 
 house forgot to put in until after the 
 21
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 house was finished, and then woke up 
 and saw his mistake. So he finds a 
 closet, that ain't big enough for him to 
 shave himself in, even if he uses a 
 safety razor, and he starts in to locate 
 his " kitchenette." 
 
 Why they give the thing such a long, 
 respectable name, and then saw it ofif 
 at both ends, and take a tuck in the 
 middle, I dunno. 
 
 When the landlady opened the door, 
 I only got one foot in, but, by gum, I 
 had to back out. Bill — couldn't turn 
 around for fear of dislocating the 
 cook-stove. 
 
 She said everything was so handy in 
 a " kitchenette," because you could put 
 a chair in the middle of the room, and 
 do all your cooking without even get- 
 ting up.
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 I told her, if there had been a re- 
 volving chair in the " kitchenette," I 
 might have paid a deposit to hold it, 
 for fear some other blamed fool would 
 get it away from me, but seeing as 
 she had neglected so important a mat- 
 ter as that, I didn't dare take it, for 
 fear I'd get tangled up in the furniture, 
 and some morning she'd find me hung 
 up on one of those pot-hooks, dead as 
 a door nail. 
 
 ^3
 
 WHEN IT RAINS 
 
 HERE are three 
 things in Califor- 
 nia that are different from the 
 same three things any where 
 else on earth. 
 They are sunshine, moonshine, and 
 rain. I might add the biggest liars 
 for the fourth, but that is another 
 Story. 
 
 I've seen it rain some in my time, 
 but by gum, when it rains in Cali- 
 25
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 fornia, its got all the rest of the coun- 
 try skinned to death. Where one drop 
 lights on you in a back east rain-storm, 
 a bucketful strikes you in the same 
 spot, out here. 
 
 It rains in sheets, in blankets, and 
 in comforters, and then some. Every 
 drop certainly must be a comforter, 
 for you never saw people so tickled 
 to death over a rain-storm as these 
 Californians are. 
 
 Every blamed man, woman and 
 child, acts like they'd struck a gold 
 mine in their own back yard. 
 
 The kids dance up and down and 
 cry, " Now we can get our red 
 wagons"; the wife will smile and 
 say, " This will bring the automobile 
 the old man promised me", and the 
 old man — if he's a farmer, he's out 
 
 36
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 talking it over with his nearest 
 neighbor, both of 'em soaking wet, 
 but with a smile that wont wash off 
 and crying out, " Bully, bully, keep it 
 up, keep it up! Its raining dollars, 
 every drop." If he's a store keeper, 
 he is smiling and nodding to every 
 one who comes into the store, rubbing 
 his hands together all the while, for it 
 means " Dollars " in big letters to each 
 and every one of 'em. Thats why they 
 are so happy. 
 
 They aint out here, any of 'em, for 
 their health, altho many a one has 
 found it. 
 
 Health is laying around loose any- 
 where in Southern California. Its 
 here in chunks, and if you've got life 
 enough in you to draw a long breath, 
 you wont have to draw very many, be- 
 27
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 fore you begin to realize, they taste 
 different, and make you feel like a kid 
 back in school days when you played 
 hookey and went fishing. 
 
 California air kinder gets you all 
 over. Your musty old lungs aint had 
 such a treat in all their life before, and 
 they are already beginning to open up 
 and grow larger, same as everything 
 else does in California. 
 
 And when after one of these glori- 
 ous rains, the sun comes out — I mean 
 the real California sunshine, not a 
 blinking, watery-eyed sun, peeking 
 around the corner of a cloud, and then 
 dodging back for fear some one saw 
 it — (the back home kind) — no sir-ree, 
 I mean the real thing that just beams 
 on you, and throws a shine over every- 
 thing until your eyes hurt, and you 
 28
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 wonder if it aint made of dififerent 
 stuff than the kind you left back east 
 in Illinois. 
 
 It makes the trees come back to life 
 and grow young again, the flowers 
 open up in brighter colors than before, 
 and the hills are carpeted with green 
 velvet, as far as the eye can reach. 
 
 And a funny feeling comes creeping 
 over you — they've all got it out here — 
 but for the life of me, I cant describe 
 it to you. You'll have to come out and 
 feel it for yourself, Bill. 
 
 29
 
 AUCTIONS 
 
 MUST say I 
 
 never saw such a 
 town for having auctions as Los 
 Angeles. 
 
 For a fact, I counted nine- 
 teen auctions one night on the two main 
 streets inside of eight blocks. 
 
 Most of 'em were Japs selling out, 
 
 going home, they said, but inside 
 
 of a week, these same fellows were 
 
 having an " Opening " giving away 
 
 31
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 presents, further up town in another 
 block. 
 
 They aint the only heathens selling 
 out in that town, either. 
 
 One night when I was bumming 
 around town I just naturally strolled 
 into a jewelry auction. 
 
 That auctioneer was sure a dandy. 
 He sold those suckers — men suckers 
 I mean — solid gold watches for $1.95 
 guaranteed. 
 
 There were plenty of women suck- 
 ers there; yep, bunches of 'em, and 
 they bit harder than any man in the 
 crowd. 
 
 They bid as high as five cents at a 
 jump, and bid right over their own 
 bids, until the auctioneer tickled so 
 hard, he had to blow his nose to hide 
 the laugh.
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 His face was as red as a beet, and he 
 nearly busted holding in, while he kept 
 on saying, 
 
 " Lady, dont let it get away from 
 you for only half a dime. If you cant 
 use it for a cake spoon, you can use it 
 to spank the baby with." 
 
 Then some reckless woman would 
 risk five cents more, and get it. 
 
 Mebbe when she counted out her 
 change, it was all in nickles and dimes, 
 and the old pocketbook was busted at 
 both ends and mighty flat in the mid- 
 dle, but she held her head high as she 
 sailed out of the store, with a silver 
 plated baby spanker, and ten chances 
 to one, she was an old maid, with no 
 immediate prospects. 
 
 But there were others in that crowd 
 — not old maids, but suckers. Yep, he 
 
 33
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 hooked me, all right, and before I 
 knew it, I had paid $1.75 for a genuine 
 diamond scarf pin as big as a marble 
 and just about as brilliant. 
 
 I met Jones as I came out of the auc- 
 tion, and as he had been lingering in 
 Jim Jeffries Saloon (all in big electric 
 lighted letters) I could plainly see that 
 a few more smiles on his part, would 
 make that diamond scarfpin I had just 
 bought, look like Jeffries sign on a 
 foggy night. 
 
 Yep, they have fog in Los Angeles. 
 
 The Angels will tell you its " Un- 
 usual," but by gum, it fogs so hard 
 here sometimes, that you have to fol- 
 low the car tracks to find your way 
 home. 
 
 I had to pay for several glasses of 
 " Oh-be-joyful," before I could con- 
 34
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 vince Jones that he needed that dia- 
 mond scarf-pin the worst way, and I 
 obliged him by taking in exchange, a 
 sore-eyed bull pup, he'd bought on a 
 street corner that afternoon, that was 
 two-thirds fox terrier and the other 
 part mule. 
 
 35
 
 PASADENA 
 
 N Pasadena, 
 meaning "Crown 
 ^ of the Valley," they have a 
 street called Orange Grove 
 ^. Avenue. 
 I dont know why. 
 
 I didnt see any orange groves when 
 I drove through there. 
 
 The avenue is also called " Million- 
 aires Row," and " A Mile of Million- 
 aires," for there are more millionaires 
 
 Z7
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 on that avenue, than any other street 
 of its length in the country. 
 
 The houses are certainly mighty fine 
 — the fat pocketbook of the owners giv- 
 ing free rein to the builders of the 
 castles, and the glorious sunshine of 
 Southern California, doing the rest, in 
 the way of flowers and beautiful lawns. 
 
 Yep, I paid a dollar a head for one 
 of those two horse rigs that stand four 
 deep at every street corner and nail a 
 tourist the minute he steps off the 
 street car. You know, Californians 
 seem to know us, I dont know why — 
 mebbe we look easy, or again mebbe 
 its the cut of our trousers — still, they 
 spot a woman tourist just as easy, so 
 of course that cant be the reason, be- 
 cause — well, any way, they catch a ten- 
 derfoot with, " Carriage to all the in- 
 38
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 teresting parts of the City, sir," and its 
 dollars to peanuts, some female in the 
 crowd will roll her eyes at you and 
 say, " Oh, what a lovely day for a 
 drive," and its all off. 
 
 So you dump your overcoat, and 
 your kodak and your lunch basket and 
 your umbrella, and a bunch of wilted 
 poppies, you've been carting around 
 for two solid hours (to please some fool 
 woman who " just couldnt resist gath- 
 ering the beautiful things ") you dump 
 all of these into the nearest rig and 
 also four or five hard earned dollars 
 into the driver's pocket, and set back 
 and make a bluff at enjoying yourself. 
 
 Speaking of California poppies. Of 
 course, as I say, after you've carted 
 a wilted bunch around for a few hours, 
 you aint much stuck on 'em, but with- 
 
 39
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 out a doubt, they are the finest wild- 
 flower, the sun ever blossomed out. 
 
 In color and shape they look like 
 our eastern buttercup, only their color 
 is a brighter orange, and one flower is 
 as big as twenty of 'em put together. 
 
 And say. Bill, when you look ahead 
 of you, up on the side of a little slop- 
 ing hill, at the foot of the mountains, 
 and see a solid carpet of these flowers 
 as big as a city block, and bigger — it 
 kinder makes you draw a long breath, 
 and feel funny inside. 
 
 You know the feeling you get when 
 some one flings the old " Stars and 
 Stripes " out in a good stifY breeze — 
 you know Bill, something kinder like 
 geese pimples go scooting up your 
 backbone and end in the roots of your 
 hair — well, thats the same feeling that 
 40
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 nabs you when you get your first sight 
 of a California poppy field. Like a 
 hungry kid in a pie factory, your eyes 
 get bigger and bigger as you drop 
 down in a field of these golden blos- 
 soms, and pick and pick and keep on 
 picking, hurrying as fast as you can, 
 for fear the other fellar will get a big- 
 ger bunch than you do. There aint 
 no strings on 'em — you're welcome to 
 pick all you can carry away. 
 
 This last dont apply to the golden 
 beauties on trees — California oranges. 
 To these you are not welcome, not even 
 if it would give you the pleasure of 
 saying " you picked them off the trees 
 yourself," which means a whole lot to 
 an easterner, who only sees oranges 
 wrapped up in tissue paper, for sale 
 back home. 
 
 41
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 You know, its a surprise to me that 
 these Californians who are eternally 
 hooping up the glorious climate, on 
 paper and otherwise, and spending a 
 whole lot of money shipping East 
 printed folders by the carload, to get 
 the California Bee, buzzing in your 
 head, until you'd almost give the farm 
 away to get rid of it — you want to go 
 to California so bad — you know, its a 
 wonder to me that some of the fellars 
 that have the most say so in the Angel 
 City, dont buy an orange grove at some 
 bargain sale price, and allow all tour- 
 ists holding return tickets East, the 
 privilege of going into a real orange 
 grove and picking, say, half a dozen 
 oranges, all by themselves. 
 
 That would be the biggest advertise- 
 ment Los Angeles ever dreamed of, and 
 42
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 it would beat reading over a lot of 
 some other fellars ideas, all to holler. 
 
 New Years day I went over to Pasa- 
 dena to the Tournament of Roses. 
 This is a " doings " held in the Crown 
 City every year, and the natives and 
 tourists for miles around come to ad- 
 mire the show. Just why it is called 
 the Tournament of Roses, I dont know. 
 To be sure, there are some roses, more 
 carnations, and mostly geraniums. But 
 right here let me say that the gerani- 
 ums in California, are the finest flow- 
 ers you ever set eyes on. By gum, they 
 are prettier than half the roses back 
 home, for the bunches of blossoms on 
 each stalk are as big as my two fists, 
 and the color of 'em is away beyond 
 anything I can describe to you. 
 
 A hedge of these scarlet beauties 
 
 43
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 beat a hedge of bum roses any time and 
 any where, even back home in Illi- 
 nois. 
 
 Them's my sentiments, only dont let 
 the editor of the home paper get hold 
 of it, Bill. 
 
 I owe him a little money and I dont 
 want to get him riled up. 
 
 The floats were all right, and some 
 pretty girls, a few, were mixed in 
 among the flowers, but Los Angeles 
 flowers and Los Angeles girls knock 
 'em all to holler. 
 
 The Tournament or the flowers or 
 the girls aint a smell side of the Fiesta 
 the Angel City hands out to visitors 
 each year in May. It's the prettiest 
 thing you could ever dream about, 
 Bill, and that aint no printed folder 
 talk either. 
 
 44
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 I've seen two of 'em and hope to see 
 a good many more before I die. In 
 some few ways Pasadena is ahead of 
 Los Angeles. Its the only spot in the 
 country whose citizens, as a whole, 
 think there is no place like it. A while 
 back they had a revival meeting in 
 town. 
 
 There was a good sized audience 
 and after they had all got pretty well 
 worked up, the preacher shouted, 
 " Now all you folks that want to go 
 to Heaven, stand up." 
 
 All jumped to their feet, except one 
 little fellar, who stuck his hands in his 
 pockets, and kept his seat. 
 
 The preacher looked at him mighty 
 hard and called out, 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me you dont 
 want to go to Heaven? " 
 
 45
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 " Nope," he answered, " Pasadena 
 is good enough for me." 
 
 And that is about the way they all 
 feel that live here — good enough for 
 them. 
 
 I heard one of 'em say once he'd 
 rather be a California jackrabbit, than 
 a New York millionaire. 
 
 46
 
 HOW TO SPEND YOUR 
 MONEY 
 
 OU know, Bill, 
 when a tender- 
 foot lands in Los 
 Angeles, it comes 
 just as natural for every one of 
 'em to do the same thing the fel- 
 lar did before him, as it does for a six 
 months' old baby to stick everything 
 into his mouth he can lay his hands 
 on. 
 
 Yep, there are a lot of things in the 
 way of " indoocements " in Los Ange- 
 
 47
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 Ics that ril bet ain't been missed by a 
 " show-me " since the town put on its 
 first suspenders. 
 
 There's Mt. Lowe, for instance, a 
 most wonderful trip, that every tourist 
 who has the price just about breaks his 
 neck to take, and when he looks up the 
 incline and sees what a blamed good 
 chance he's got of breaking it, he'd 
 back out and go home, if he wasn't 
 afraid some fool woman would laugh 
 at him. 
 
 Then there's Chinatown, a collection 
 of smells you would never believe 
 could be gathered together under the 
 blue canopy of Heaven. Why, after 
 leaving the rose gardens on the other 
 side of town, and dropping into this 
 nest of pigtails, it's like finding a 
 dilapidated piece of limburgcr cheese 
 48
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 'way down in the middle of marshmel- 
 low sundae. 
 
 Marshmellow sundae? Nope, ain't 
 nothing to do with a Methodist prayer 
 meeting, Bill; you'll have to guess 
 again. 
 
 They grow 'em out here; not Meth- 
 odist prayer meetings, but marshmel- 
 low sundaes. Yep, they grow 'em on 
 sodywater trees, great, big, juicy ones, 
 with a cherry on top. But back to 
 Chinatown, with its pigtails and punk! 
 Why, Bill, I smelt of punk for a week 
 after I went on that trip through 
 Chinatown. 
 
 What's punk? 
 
 Why, punk is — er — punk is, well, 
 darn it, it's just punk, that's all. Don't 
 ask so many fool questions, Bill. 
 
 It ain't a bunch of honeysuckle, 
 
 49
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 b'gosh, I can tell you that much. Go 
 out in the back yard and burn up a pair 
 of old rubber boots — then shut your 
 eyes and smell! Just as good as a trip 
 through Chinatown, and a whole lot 
 cheaper. 
 
 Here's a Chinese poem, Bill — hon- 
 est — and by the looks of it, I should 
 say the " chink " that wrote it was a 
 bum writer. 
 
 Yep, I know it looks like turkey 
 tracks in the snow back home, but it's 
 the real genuine article just the same. 
 Think of a fellar writing a love letter 
 to his best girl and handing out a thing 
 like that. Bill! Why, I can smell punk 
 just looking at it. Fact; that poem is 
 chuck full of punk to any one that ever 
 got a whiff of it. 
 
 I can't read the blamed thing for 
 so
 
 
 ''J r^vtx 
 
 III 
 
 g 
 
 'J 
 
 7^A 
 
 

 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 you. Bill, but, by gum, I believe I can 
 dance it. 
 
 Then there's the Chutes — no shoot- 
 ing the day I was there — place looked 
 like Garvanza on a busy day — game 
 law must have been on. I bought out 
 the peanut stand and filled up the ani- 
 mals, drank a couple of glasses of beer 
 hoping I'd " see things," but nothing 
 showed up, so I decided to wait until 
 next Fourth of July and go out again. 
 They say they have to hang the " stand- 
 ing room only " sign out on holidays, 
 and I'd rather hang onto a strap in a 
 crowd any time than to have the whole 
 car to myself, Bill. 
 
 Then there's Santa Monica and 
 
 Ocean Park — no prettier spots on 
 
 earth. Born and brought up together, 
 
 used the same soap, and wiped their 
 
 3«
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 face on the same towel, but they ain't 
 no relation, no sir-ree; they don't love 
 each other worth a bean. 
 
 Then comes Venice — next door 
 neighbor to Ocean Park; so close to- 
 gether they could have their arms 
 around each other if they'd a mind to; 
 but nope, they've both got a chip on 
 their shoulders waiting for some one to 
 bump into 'em. 
 
 But never mind. The old fellar 
 that figured out how he could trans- 
 form that cast-off land of bogs and 
 slime into the beautiful little " dago " 
 city he has, is worth taking your hat 
 off to. Bill. They say he had an up- 
 hill fight from start to finish, and he 
 ain't finished yet. Some few people 
 down there thought they saw his finish, 
 but he fooled 'em. 
 
 53
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 A man that will go through what he 
 has " for his country " and still be able 
 to smile is made of the kind of stuff 
 that will wash without fading. 
 
 Then there's Catalina Island; that's 
 another sure thing in the way of sights 
 that every tourist takes in. That trip 
 will flatten out your pocket-book and 
 likewise your stomach, and do more 
 fancy work to your liver in about three 
 shakes of a lamb's tail than a healthy 
 windmill inside of your diaphragm 
 could figure out in a month and a half. 
 
 The water between here and Cata- 
 lina has been up and a-coming since 
 Time began, and if it ain't the meanest, 
 dog-gorndest piece of water that ever 
 picked a fight with a man, then your 
 Uncle Eben don't know how old he is. 
 It does beat the Dutch, Bill, how a fel- 
 
 54
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 lar will blow in good hard-earned cash, 
 just to find out how it feels to wish he 
 was dead. 
 
 Another beach is called Playa Del 
 Rey; in plain U. S. everyday talk is 
 just King of Beaches. I don't know 
 whether its French or Dago, Bill, or 
 whether the fellar that named it was 
 just trying to see what he could do if 
 they gave him long enough rope. 
 
 Anyway, I got a fish dinner down 
 there that I'll remember as long as I 
 live. Yes sir-ree. 
 
 Got a bone in my throat — that's rea- 
 son enough, ain't it? Good dinner — 
 fine — but I lost money on it, b'gosh, 
 for that blamed fish bone went down 
 with the first mouthful. I tried to get 
 'cm to give me my money back, but 
 there was nothing doing. They 
 55
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 claimed I'd spoilt the shape of the fish, 
 and they couldn't sell it to anybody 
 else. 
 
 I told 'em to go ahead and make fish 
 chowder out of it — I'd give 'em back 
 the bone just as soon as I could find it, 
 but they was so blamed pig-headed 
 about it, they said they couldn't see 
 it that way. 
 
 I told 'em I had given 'em a mighty 
 good idea, and I'd bet a barrel of hard 
 cider the next fellar that ordered fish 
 chowder down there would " see it that 
 way." 
 
 Gosh, Bill, I'm glad I didn't order 
 a fried egg, can't tell, might have got 
 a wishbone in my throatl 
 
 56
 
 BARGAIN SALES 
 
 OS ANGELES 
 
 is the greatest 
 town for bargain sales. One 
 store or another, has 'em every 
 day out here. 
 I got into the middle of a stocking 
 sale once, and when I got out, and took 
 account of stock, I didnt have all the 
 clothes on I started in with, but I had 
 two pairs of women's polka dotted 
 stockings wound around my neck, and 
 another pair in my pocket. 
 
 57
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 Its a wonder I wasnt arrested for 
 shop-lifting. 
 
 I never saw such actions in all my 
 life, Bill. Women, big and little, 
 grabbed and pulled and hauled, and 
 grunted and groaned, and seesawed 
 back and forth, each one trying to 
 spend some poor devil-of-a-husband's 
 hard earned dollars, while he was rac- 
 ing around town trying to " do " some 
 other poor devil, to make both ends 
 meet. Mebbe the hat he wore was last 
 years and his shoes were out at the 
 sides, and run down at the heels, but 
 his wife was a close buyer and would, 
 no doubt, bring him home a pair of 
 light green socks, embroidered in yel- 
 low polka dots. 
 
 In the scramble, one woman got 
 hold of a single stocking, and another 
 58
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 woman side of her, got hold of the 
 mate to it, and a few jerks pulled them 
 apart. 
 
 And do you think either woman 
 would give up her stocking? 
 
 Not much! 
 
 The clerk called the floor walker 
 and he called the manager, but there 
 was nothing doing. One of 'em said 
 " she wouldnt let that piefaced female 
 have that stocking if they called the 
 police." 
 
 So they each paid for one stocking 
 and kept it. 
 
 One woman bought seventeen pairs. 
 
 " A woman cant have too many pairs 
 of stockings," I heard her say. " This 
 nasty yellow pair, I'll save until next 
 Christmas and give 'em to Mrs. 
 Brown, to pay her for that old ten cent
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 handkerchief she sent me last Christ- 
 mas." 
 
 Think of it, Bill — seventeen pairs of 
 stockings these hard times — Tm glad 
 I aint married, b'gosh. 
 
 The Angel City has plenty of mighty 
 fine stores, barring a few whose bar- 
 gain sales (in big red letters) are car- 
 ried on midway a dinky little entrance 
 door, where customers have to crowd 
 and push their way through a bunch 
 of half baked females buying real lace 
 at 2 cents a yard. 
 
 For a solid half hour, these women 
 will stand, first on one foot and then 
 on the other, hanging onto their bar- 
 gain like a bull pup to an unwelcome 
 pair of pants, waiting for a not over 
 bright, gum chewing girl, who is 
 frantically trying to add up nine times 
 60
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 two, while she chews off the end of 
 her lead pencil, and lifts her rat up an 
 inch or two higher at the same time. 
 
 Oh, I tell you Bill, its all very well 
 to make fun of women going to bar- 
 gain sales. If they do get a bargain, 
 by gum, they earn it. 
 
 Just one genuine bargain sale would 
 lay out any strong man in about thirty 
 seconds, and yet a frail and delicate 
 woman, who cant possibly do her 
 own housework, will get up before 
 daylight so she can be down to the 
 stores before the doors open, and for 
 two mortal hours, she'll push and 
 shove and squirm her way through a 
 barricade of bargain crazy females, 
 the sight of which would turn back a 
 crowd of husky football players any 
 day. 
 
 6i
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 Packed in like sardines, around a 
 2x4 table, grandmothers and grand- 
 children, wedged in three and four 
 deep, are panting and struggling, as 
 they blindly push an arm through a 
 small opening and grab hold of any- 
 thing they can reach on the table. 
 
 Whatever they grab, they hold onto, 
 for fear they wont get hold of any- 
 thing else. 
 
 And when they get it home, and 
 come to their senses, they wonder what 
 in thunder they bought it for, anyway. 
 The poor over worked husband uses a 
 stronger word than " thunder," but her 
 word means just as much to her. Bill, 
 and its more ladylike. 
 
 And for a free sample of *' Near 
 Food " she will charge to the front of 
 an army of wild-eyed females, who 
 62
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 like herself cant see a sign with the 
 word " Free " on it without stopping. 
 
 You never saw a woman get three 
 feet beyond a " Free " sign, Bill, with- 
 out turning around and going back, to 
 ask, "What is?" 
 
 No-sir-rcc. 
 
 Its just as impossible for her to do 
 it, as it is for her to rub her eye, with- 
 out opening her mouth at the same 
 time. 
 
 They have to do it. 
 
 I got tangled up in a bunch of " free 
 sample " females one day, and after the 
 floor walker had dragged me out and 
 unhitched my necktie from my left 
 ear, he told me to go round to the side 
 door and he'd give me a square meal. 
 I had lost two teeth in the mix up but 
 a " Didnt hurt a bit," dentist, whose
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 smiling face I'd know if I met it in a 
 custard pie, in a *' come-back " restau- 
 rant — dug out the roots for me, and 
 didnt hurt a bit — mebbe! 
 
 Once when I felt he had gone down 
 about three feet, and was still going, 
 I asked him if he thought he was bor- 
 ing for oil, or just digging post holes. 
 
 That fellar ought to strike oil some 
 day, for he certainly wasnt afraid of 
 work. 
 
 I'll bet. Bill, if he ever finds a fel- 
 lar with a big enough mouth, he'll get 
 into it with a pick and shovel and lo- 
 cate some mining claims before he 
 quits. 
 
 64
 
 MT. WILSON AND 
 PASADENA 
 
 1 HE trip up Mt. 
 Wilson makes 
 me heave a good 
 many sighs to 
 write about, Bill. In fact, I 
 heaved so many sighs for a couple 
 of weeks after that trip, that I had 
 mighty hard work making anyone be- 
 lieve I had a good time. But I did. 
 It was worth heaving sighs for a month 
 to take that trip — you can't just exactly 
 see it that way, while you are on the 
 6>;
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 trail, but afterwards — afterwards, Bill, 
 w^hen the sore spots have all quit their 
 talking — when your liver has quit gal- 
 livanting around inside of you, and 
 your floating kidney has been lassoed 
 and trotted back into place — then, Bill, 
 you begin to remember the beauties 
 you saw with only one eye, while you 
 kept the other one glued on the blamed 
 jackass that was trying his best to give 
 you all the extras he could think of 
 for your money. 
 
 It takes four — five — six or seven 
 hours to get up the trail, according to 
 your mule, and it only took me some- 
 where around forty minutes to come 
 down. Of course, most people don't 
 hurry so on the down trip, but 
 you know some things are forced 
 upon us in this world, and that jack- 
 66
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 ass of mine certainly knew his busi- 
 ness. 
 
 I don't know how to swear much, 
 but there are times when cuss-words 
 come kinder natural to a man, and I 
 sure did surprise myself. Bill. 
 
 There were some wonderful sights 
 all along the way, and the glories of a 
 Mt. Wilson sunset, Bill, can't be de- 
 scribed with a stub pen that scratches 
 like this one does. 
 
 Nope — I'd have to be a school 
 marm, and know the dictionary by 
 heart, to find the kind of words to do it 
 half justice, and then, your education 
 has been so neglected. Bill, you 
 wouldn't know what I was driving at. 
 
 They told me that a sunrise beat a 
 sunset all to smithereens, but I didn't 
 see a single sunrise while I was up 
 67
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 there, for about the time the sun was 
 climbing over the peaks 1 was getting 
 in my heaviest work and, next to eating 
 custard pie, I'd rather sleep than do 
 anything on earth. 
 
 Yep — I hope if I'm ever drowned, 
 Bill, I'll be drowned in custard pie, the 
 real deep kind, like mother used to 
 make. 
 
 Mt. Wilson is the nearest station to 
 Heaven yours truly ever expects to get. 
 It's six thousand feet nearer Heaven 
 than Pasadena is, but you can't make 
 Pasadena people see it that way, even 
 if you measure it for 'em. No sir, they 
 ain't got no time to argue with any 
 fellar with a tape line. Pasadena is 
 the real thing, and you might just as 
 well let every blamed one of 'em have 
 the last word about it, for they've all 
 
 68
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 got their fingers crossed, and had 'em 
 crossed so long, by gum, they've grown 
 that way. 
 
 One day last summer, when the ther- 
 mometer had stood just about all it in- 
 tended to take, and had " rizz " up and 
 sizzled over the top like foam on a 
 glass of soda, I stood for two solid, 
 never-to-be-forgotten hours in the 
 shade of a spreading telephone pole 
 with my fingers crossed, legs crossed, 
 and, in fact, so cross inside and out, 
 Bill, I didn't get the kinks out of me 
 for days. I was side tracked, waiting 
 for a street-car that the conductor told 
 me was liable to be along almost any 
 minute, now, — mebbe! 
 
 Well, the first car that hove in sight 
 was loaded to the muzzle, and it didn't 
 even hesitate. 
 
 69
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 The second kicked up such a Kansas 
 cyclone before it got to me, that not a 
 blamed soul on board knew I was 
 there. 
 
 Bill, you know that playful little 
 breeze that carried ofif the pigsty last 
 summer back home, and scattered our 
 pork all over the neighborhood — you 
 remember it? 
 
 Well, the rumpus that street car 
 stirred up on its way down hill had 
 that cyclone fricasseed with mushroom 
 sauce. 
 
 When I came to, I remembered I 
 was only three feet from the sidewalk, 
 but somehow I'd lost the points of the 
 compass. Bill, and after hunting a long 
 while for the sun, and locating it, I 
 struck out for shore. 
 
 In my hurry I didn't find the curb, 
 70
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 for the warning toot of an automobile 
 — sou' by sou'west — decided me to 
 move on immediately. I made a run, 
 and slid along the gutter on my stom- 
 ach for a couple of yards, cleaning up 
 in front of some woman's house with- 
 out charging her a blamed cent for 
 it, and when I picked myself up and 
 tried to get my bearings, I'll be hanged 
 if that same woman didn't holler out 
 the window at me, " to keep off the 
 grass — couldn't I see the sign! " 
 
 Now, Bill, you know there are mo- 
 ments when your feelings are so hurt 
 you can't get sassy to save your life. 
 Well, that was one of 'em. I was sure 
 hurt, inside and out, and I knew my 
 appearance was against me. I didn't 
 dare sass her, for I saw a bulldog, with 
 full-grown teeth, through the slats in
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 the fence, and there was a policeman 
 coming up the street. 
 
 I'd seen many a man run in on sus- 
 picion that looked a whole lot better 
 than I did, Bill. My clothes had sud- 
 denly changed into a sunburnt, punkin' 
 color; there was a hole big as my fist 
 in one of my pant legs, and my shirt — 
 well. Bill, my shirt was a good stand- 
 off between a street sweeper and the 
 hole in one of mother's doughnuts. 
 But, by-gum, I still had that dog- 
 gorned transfer in my hand, hanging 
 onto it like it was a life preserver. 
 
 I saw another car go by with a 
 
 "Take next car" sign hanging in the 
 
 front window, and one followed five 
 
 minutes later marked " Special," but 
 
 I had long ago lost all my interest in 
 
 street cars, and wouldn't have flagged 
 ^2
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 another one of 'em if I'd had to walk 
 back to Los Angeles. 
 
 Pasadena may be Heaven under 
 some circumstances, but what I had oc- 
 casion to call it that day was a shorter, 
 more forceful word, Bill, and rhymed 
 with — well — it was a long way from 
 Heaven, when there wasn't any street 
 cars running. 
 
 I found a kid and gave him a quar- 
 ter to stay there and use up that blamed 
 transfer, so I could get even with the 
 street car company. 
 
 The kid was willing — he called it a 
 '' puddin'." 
 
 Mebbe it was — but I'd had mine, 
 and I ain't stingy. 
 
 The only real thing I've got against 
 Pasadena, Bill, is, that they have 
 snakes in their canyons and no sure 
 
 7^
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 remedy in town for a man that gets 
 bitten— nope, not a drop, Bill. 
 
 "Lydia Pinkham's" and " Castoria " 
 is the best thing they can do for you, 
 even if you show 'em the bite. 
 
 74
 
 THROUGH TOURISTS' 
 GLASSES 
 
 F^EARD two ten- 
 derfeet talking 
 on the way up town from the 
 depot the other day. 
 
 At almost every street corner 
 in Los Angeles, you'll find little tamale 
 wagons standing. 
 
 One fellar saw the sign, " Tamales " 
 and asked the other one what they 
 were. 
 
 " Oh, they're a kind of bird they
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 have out here," he said, looking very 
 v/ise — and to the conductor as he 
 passed through the car, said " We want 
 to get off at Fig — Fig — Fig — " 
 
 " Figueroa Street," jerked out the 
 conductor, and the tourist nodded 
 wearily, as he grunted something about 
 " the damned dago names out here, 
 anyway." 
 
 Speaking of street cars, Bill, I've 
 got to give Los Angeles the whole palm 
 tree for having the finest street car 
 service in the country. 
 
 There are more cars, going in more 
 directions, than you can imagine, and 
 they also have more home made rules, 
 than any street car company in the 
 country. 
 
 When tourists come to town they sit 
 up and take notice of the wonderful 
 76
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 breed of street car conductors Los Ang- 
 eles is blessed (?) with. 
 
 If you should forget to ask for a 
 transfer the minute you drop a nickel 
 into the dirtiest paw you ever saw on 
 a man, then you've paid your way into 
 the circus, and the fun begins. 
 
 If the passenger happens to be a big 
 fellar, and could without any effort 
 knock the smart conductor down, he'll 
 only get a hard look and his transfer 
 — if its a little fellar, that couldn't lick 
 a fly that was stuck on sticky fly 
 paper, he'll shrivel him up to the size 
 of a peanut in just about two sec- 
 onds. 
 
 If its a woman, and a fat and sassy 
 one, he'll kinder back off and tell her 
 to ask for her transfer when she pays 
 her fare, and all he'll get out of it, is 
 
 77
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 "Aw gwan, yer pipe's out"! and he'll 
 meekly hand out the paper. 
 
 But the tired little woman, with a 
 lot of " cash and no delivery" grocer- 
 ies piled up in her lap, who is getting 
 home from work, and who is so done 
 up, she hasnt got life enough left in her 
 to care whether a man smokes in her 
 face or not — she gets hers in bunches, 
 and then some. 
 
 After he has jawed until his tongue 
 aches, and has spit out everything he 
 has in his mouth, except a big chew of 
 tobacco, he shoves the transfer under 
 her nose, and leaves her wondering 
 why the good Lord ever made such a 
 thin^ and called it " Man." 
 
 7«
 
 CALIFORNIA YARNS 
 
 OU know, Bill, 
 California has 
 the name of being the home of 
 the biggest liars on earth, but 
 ^ that dont mean the " birth- 
 place " of 'em, b'gosh. 
 
 When you come to think of it, most 
 of the people out here came from the 
 East and they are the ones that are 
 doing the lying, not the natives. 
 
 Old Sam Watkins, who used to be 
 a deacon in the church back home, and
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 led all the prayer meetings, and took 
 up the collections — he's been out here 
 for five years, and by gum, of all the 
 liars I've run across in California, he 
 takes the whole bakery. 
 
 He told me more double-back-action 
 lies in five minutes, than you could 
 count on both hands, and feet, too, and 
 sir, he never turned a hair doing it. 
 
 When he told me about " oysters 
 growing on trees " out here, some- 
 where, I had to say, "Why Samuel! 
 How can you lie so! " 
 
 He says its a fact! 
 
 Mebbe it is — I dont know. 
 
 He also told me of a fellar out here, 
 who planted some pumkin seeds, and 
 by gum, before he could get up ofif 
 his knees, and run, the vines came up 
 and choked him to death. 
 80
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 Well, now you know, Bill, when a 
 deacon of a church, tells you such fairy 
 tales as that, you can imagine what an 
 every day citizen of Los Angeles can 
 fire at you. 
 
 He told me one more. 
 
 Once when they had a thunder storm 
 out here, the lightning struck a 
 mother hen, with eight little chicks 
 under her, and killed every blamed one 
 of 'em, but never hurt the old hen a 
 bit. 
 
 By gum, now I come to think of it, 
 I'll bet a doughnut, that was the very 
 old hen I had served to me one day, 
 out at Casa Verdugo, for a spring 
 chicken. Casa Verdugo is a mighty 
 swell Spanish restaurant, just out side 
 of Los Angeles. 
 
 No-sir-ree, thunder and lightning 
 8i
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 wouldnt have any effect on that hen, 
 for I tried every thing from a pocket 
 knife to a saw, I tipped the waiter for, 
 and then couldnt see where I had made 
 any headway, even on the white meat. 
 
 After I'd sweat so you could wring 
 out my undershirt, I gave up, and 
 ordered some tamales. 
 
 I got 'em, and they were bully but 
 only those who have eaten " hot ta- 
 males," at Casa Verdugo, will under- 
 stand and marvel how I could have 
 lived to tell the tale, when I say I ate 
 six of 'em, before I threw up my hands 
 and told the waiter to turn on the hose. 
 
 If the place that never freezes over, 
 
 is any hotter than those tamales were, 
 
 I'm going to travel the " straight and 
 
 narrow path," mighty carefully the 
 
 rest of my days. 
 
 82
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 I aint going to take any chances — 
 no-sir-ree. 
 
 I'll send one home for your mother- 
 in-law, Bill. Put in a little extra cay- 
 enne pepper, and a dash of Tabasco 
 sauce, — as the cook books say — then 
 take a trip out of town for a few days, 
 until the hot spell blows over. 
 
 One of 'em ought to bring on paral- 
 ysis of the tongue — still — I know 
 you've tried everything, and nothing 
 seems to work, in her case. 
 
 «9
 
 THE WHYS AND WHERE 
 FORES 
 
 INCE I've lived 
 in this boarding- 
 house, Bill, we've 
 only changed 
 landladies seven times in three 
 months. 
 
 Just as soon as I get used to one 
 woman's biscuits, and manage to get 
 my stomach trained down to her kind 
 of cooking, she ups and sells out at a 
 profit. 
 
 Mebbe the next woman that tickles 
 85
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 the cook stove don't know a biscuit 
 from a door knob, and, by gum, after 
 you've eaten a few of her kind, a pack- 
 age of hard-tack looks mighty good to 
 you. 
 
 I'd quit staying here long ago if it 
 wasn't for a little redheaded, freckled- 
 faced kid named Bennie that has kinder 
 adopted me, and tags along with me 
 whenever he gets a chance. 
 
 He's a cute kid. Bill — out here all 
 alone, and, by gum, he's so homely it 
 would make the tears come to your eyes 
 just to look at him. He's some rela- 
 tion to the landlady, and I don't know 
 which has the most to be sorry for. 
 Says he's got to go back home to-mor- 
 row, poor kid, and he's cried so hard 
 about it for the last week or two that 
 his face looks like he'd run up against 
 86
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 a swarm of bees. Can't see his eyes at 
 all — nothing there but the slits. He's 
 promised to write to me just as soon as 
 he gets home, and I've promised to send 
 him a box of horned toads and tarantu- 
 las, so he can have some fun with the 
 natives. Bennie says he's going to be 
 President some day when the Demo- 
 crats get half a show. 
 
 Mebbe he will — I dunno. 
 
 There's many a man that started in 
 on a farm, and landed in the — poor- 
 house. 
 
 Speaking of farms. Bill — Southern 
 California is one great big valley of 
 mighty fine farms — big farms and little 
 farms, all kinds of farms you can ask 
 about are located around Los Angeles. 
 
 Flower farms — carnations, calla-lily, 
 sweet-pea and violets — acres of 'em, if
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 stead of the little old eight by ten gar- 
 dens we have back home. 
 
 Pigeon farms down by the river- 
 bed — where you can see one hundred 
 and twenty-five thousand fluttering, 
 flying, cooing birds any day in the 
 year. 
 
 Ostrich farms — where the poor fel- 
 lars start in an egg and come out 
 feather dusters. 
 
 Alligator farms — where the 'gators 
 start in, wiggly little " critters," and 
 come out traveling bags, hand bags and 
 pocketbooks; and frog farms, Bill, that 
 are responsible for more cussin' than 
 any cat concert your back fence was 
 ever guilty of. 
 
 Frogs' legs are all right when they're 
 fried, Bill, but they don't mean much 
 to a man who needs sleep mighty bad, 
 88
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 unless they're served to him hot with 
 melted butter and a stein of beer. 
 
 I ain't had any — I mean frogs' legs, 
 not beer — since I came to town. Our 
 landlady ain't lived in California long 
 enough to know a dish of frogs' legs 
 from a dish of stewed prunes — anyway, 
 if she does, she's keeping it to herself. 
 
 She says prunes are awful healthy — 
 awful — mebbe they are, I dunno. 
 
 But / ain't sick — except of stewed 
 prunes, and I'm so dog-gorned sick of 
 stewed prunes that my stomach gets 
 right down on its knees and says its 
 prayers every time a dish of 'em comes 
 on the table 
 
 89
 
 WHEN EAST COMES 
 WEST 
 
 HE N. E. A. was 
 out here a year 
 or so ago, and they certainly 
 had a great time. They were 
 all in on anything that was free, 
 and almost everything was open to 
 them, and no questions asked. A fel- 
 lar that runs a tamale wagon told me 
 a good story about them while they 
 were here, and I'll tell it to you. 
 A bunch of women members went
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 into a cheap popular restaurant, where 
 a full meal is only ten cents. The 
 leader told the boss, as about seven of 
 them filed in, that they were 
 " tourists." 
 
 " Needn't a told me," he grunted. 
 
 "And we are here with the N. E. 
 A.," was added. 
 
 " Sure," he said, without taking any 
 interest. 
 
 " We would like to patronize your 
 restaurant," she continued. 
 
 " All right," he said, looking out of 
 the window. 
 
 " We shall remain here about two 
 weeks, and if we come here we would 
 like to get rates." 
 
 "Rates? On a ten cent meal? Soup, 
 meat, vegetables, ice cream and coffee? 
 Say woman, I've seen cheap guys in 
 92
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 pants, but a female what will ask for 
 rates in a ten cent hash house, is the 
 limit. You beat the female that came 
 in here yesterday, and told the waitress 
 that she came out here with a ten dol- 
 lar bill and only one undershirt, and 
 she didnt intend to change either of 
 'em until she got home. Rates on a 
 ten cent meal? Nix! Vamoose!" and 
 they were glad to vamoose, which 
 means " hike " in California, Bill. 
 
 93
 
 OUT IN GOD'S COUNTRY 
 
 ELL me, Bill, 
 where on earth 
 could you travel 
 one hundred miles 
 for one hundred cents? 
 Nowhere, but in Los Angeles! 
 And it's the most for your money you 
 ever thought you'd get, too. 
 
 And let me tell you, some of those 
 miles are worth dollars instead of cents 
 to anyone on earth. Some of those 
 miles along the glorious old ocean 
 
 95
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 would make you get mighty quiet in- 
 side all of a sudden, Bill, and before 
 you knew it, youM be thanking the 
 Good Father for being allowed to live 
 and breathe into your moth-eaten old 
 lungs such air as only California is 
 blessed with. 
 
 If there's a mite of "worth while" 
 in your make-up — if there's an ounce 
 of the " real thing" in your soul, it's 
 bound to come to the top on a trip like 
 this, Bill, or you ain't worth shoveling 
 up and dumping into the dirt barrel. 
 
 If you can sit still and see that great 
 stretch of ocean all a-glisten in the sun 
 — if you can look up overhead and see 
 a sky that's bluer than the eyes your 
 sweetheart used to have — if you can 
 throw your head back and take in a 
 breath of air that reaches clear way 
 96
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 down to your corns, b'gosh, and tastes 
 good all the way going down — if you 
 can do all these things and a whole lot 
 more, and not find a drop of water in 
 the corner of your eye or on the end of 
 your nose, why. Bill, you'd call Para- 
 dise itself Lonesometown. 
 
 Nope — there ain't many of us that 
 don't get a " still " feeling inside of us 
 at times, for there's a spark of some- 
 thing, clear 'way down inside of some- 
 where, that we all have to listen to 
 sometimes, only it ain't allowed to talk 
 very often. 
 
 We keep it muzzled or chloro- 
 formed until it's so little and frail that, 
 whenever it tries to make itself heard, 
 its voice is so pitifully weak we're 
 liable to be ashamed of it, and choke 
 it off with a '' made " laugh. 
 
 97
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 Nope, I ain't joined any church since 
 I got here — I'm only a traveler out 
 here in God's country, and I'm just 
 glad I'm living, that's all. 
 
 Bill, I wish you could raise enough 
 dough to get out here before you 
 die. 
 
 It would even be worth while to 
 mortgage the farm and find out that 
 there is something else in the world be- 
 sides digging potatoes and feeding the 
 pigs. You ain't done much else for 
 forty years to my knowledge. 
 
 Your old woman ain't seen nothing 
 but a sink full of dirty dishes and a tub 
 full of dirty clothes for over forty 
 years. Think of it, Bill, just think of 
 it! She'd drop dead if you ever gave 
 her one measly dollar to spend all by 
 
 herself and forgot to ask her what she 
 
 98
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 did with it. Think of that, too, Bill, 
 while you're dusting out the cobwebs 
 in your conscience. 
 
 Life ain't much to a man on a farm, 
 and for a woman — well, if, without 
 knowing it, that old woman of yours 
 got hold of the wrong ticket when she 
 died, and finally landed in the place 
 where you can't buy ice for love nor 
 money, Bill, she'd only fold her hands, 
 poor thing, and say: " Well, it's kinder 
 warm here, and I always hoped I could 
 have just one dish of ice-cream when I 
 got to Heaven, but, no matter — it's a 
 change, anyway, and I can get along 
 somehow, I reckon." 
 
 When I took this one-hundred-mile 
 trip, Bill, my back ached all day long, 
 carrying around the big white souvenir 
 button they nailed on us when we 
 
 99
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 bought our ticket. Why, Bill, that but- 
 ton was as big as an eating house bis- 
 cuit, and just about as heavy. We 
 started out with a hungry looking 
 crowd, a good-looking motorman and 
 conductor, and a " down-to-date " 
 guide, that certainly knew everything 
 that ever happened in Southern 
 California, and a few things that 
 even the oldest inhabitant had forgot- 
 ten. 
 
 We all gaped at the Giant Grape 
 Vine, the "Jim Jeffries " of all grape- 
 vines, whose trunk (the grapevine's, 
 not Jim's) measured eight feet around, 
 and whose leaves were twelve inches 
 in length. 
 
 When I tell you, Bill, they gather 
 two and a half tons of grapes off this 
 vine in a season, you'll think I'm lying, 
 
 100
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 but I ain't. It's a California story all 
 right, but it's a true one just the same. 
 
 I saw a fifty-year-old rubber tree 
 that was brought out here a little slip 
 in a pot, and now it towers over all the 
 houses, and is worth losing your dinner 
 to see. They told me they gathered 
 two crops of rubber boots ofif this tree 
 every year, and had now grafted it to 
 automobile tires. 
 
 Yes, I know, Bill, it sounds kinder 
 " fishy," but I saw the tree — crop had 
 just been picked. 
 
 We passed the town of Watts on the 
 way to the ocean, and I wanted to see 
 it mighty bad, I'd heard so much about 
 it, but when we slowed up, there was 
 an ice wagon standing right square in 
 front of the town, so I missed it, by 
 gum, after all. 
 
 lOI 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNTSTEPSTTY OF CAUFQINlJC 
 
 SANTA BAiiBARA
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 This hundred-mile trip I've been 
 telling you about is second cousin to 
 the " Balloon Trip," another trolley 
 ride that takes you scooting all over the 
 country and brings you home in time 
 for dinner. Why they call it the 
 " Balloon Trip " I dunno, for it's all 
 on land, Bill; nothing up in the air 
 about it except the female that sat next 
 to me in the car and growled all the 
 way down and all the way back. I 
 tried to lose her after the first ten min- 
 utes, but she hung onto me like a sew- 
 ing machine agent, because she said I 
 looked so much like her first husband. 
 
 Since I took this ride I've found out 
 why every tenderfoot that goes back 
 East has to pay excess baggage. 
 
 Moonstones! 
 
 Yep — one of the sights we took in
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 was Moonstone Beach, and I'll bet the 
 only time I really ever got what you 
 might call "loaded" was on moon- 
 stones, Bill. By gum, I carted round 
 more than fifteen pounds of 'em in the 
 hot sun for four mortal hours, and all 
 the time I kept wondering what in 
 thunder made me so tired. 
 
 When I got home and emptied my 
 clothes, all I had left was ^dime with 
 a hole in it, and about a quart of sand 
 in each shoe, but I'll bet I had $4.98 
 worth of moonstones that would easy 
 cost me $15 to have polished up in 
 shape to be worth looking at — if you 
 liked moonstones, and I never did like 
 'em, an5rway. 
 
 When you buy your ticket for the 
 " Balloon Trip," they hand you out a 
 little blue silk ribbon to pin on, to ad-
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 vertise the fact that you are a '* Rube " 
 to everyone who takes the time to gap 
 at you. 
 
 After I pinned mine on. I felt like a 
 " W. C. T. U." out for an airing on 
 the water wagon, and the only thing 
 that reconciled me to wear the blamed 
 thin^ was the fact that the stops we 
 made on. the trip to the ocean were 
 '' dr\- on^' 
 
 The condtStor told me the only way 
 I cihild get even i ^n^'^^ ^^ " Here's 
 Hoping " was to go y£ Kkthing, be 
 taken with a cramp, holler '* Help," 
 and when they dragged me out. if I 
 laid still enough for them to think I 
 was dead, they might pour some of the 
 awful stuff down my throat to be sure 
 about it. 
 
 I had a good mind to take a chance 
 104
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 at it, but our time was short, and the 
 guide said he'd tried it once himself, 
 and all he got was some Jamaica 
 ginger. 
 
 105
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 STREETS 
 
 GOT into Los 
 Angeles in ample 
 __ time to go through their annual 
 tearing up period. 
 ^^:M You know, there is some- 
 thing funny about this. Just as soon 
 as winter comes, Los Angeles begins 
 to tear up its streets from one end to 
 the other. 
 
 All summer long, when mighty few 
 strangers are in town, there is nothing 
 doing. But just as sure as fine sun- 
 107
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 shiny weather begins, then an army of 
 dagos and greezers march forth, and 
 proceed to dig up every blamed street 
 in town. 
 
 It is just the same, year in and year 
 out. Its got to be a joke with the tour- 
 ists, for Los Angeles wouldnt look nat- 
 ural to 'em, when they come out to 
 spend the winter, if the whole shop- 
 ping district wasnt well nigh impass- 
 able. 
 
 They will finish putting down a mac- 
 adamized street one day, and by jingo, 
 during the following night, I'll be 
 hanged if some fellar hasnt figured out 
 how to tear it up. Needn't take my 
 word for it, Bill. 
 
 Here's another fellar kicking 
 through the columns of a Los 
 Angeles paper. 
 
 io8
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 SPEED THE DAY! 
 
 Will there ever come a season, 
 When the workmen will abstain 
 
 From ripping loose the asphalt 
 On Broadway, Spring and Main? 
 
 Speed the happy, gladsome morning, 
 When with joy our brimming cup 
 
 Will slop over, with this edict: 
 
 DO NOT TEAR 
 
 THIS 
 PAVEMENT UP! 
 
 After you've cussed yourself sick, 
 trying to squirm your way under 
 horses' noses and women's four-story 
 hats — falling over a couple of hun- 
 dred little wooden saw-horses the 
 workmen stick up any old place in 
 the middle of the street, while they 
 patch up a few dozen holes — go and 
 hire an automobile at $4.00 per hour 
 
 log
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 ( — yep, they soak you that much in 
 the Angel City) and take a ride out 
 into the country or through the beau- 
 tiful residence portion of the town. 
 
 The country and residence portion 
 is all right — glorious sunshine and 
 views, and the finest, clearest air that 
 ever dusted out the cobwebs in your 
 lungs, but suffering Peter, the roads — 
 the roads!! Bill, I never worked so 
 hard and paid $4.00 an hour for the 
 privilege of doing so, in all my life — 
 never! 
 
 We hit every chuck hole from Pasa- 
 dena to the ocean. Now, when I tell 
 you this, it means a whole lot more to 
 me, than it does to you, for it is a sore 
 subject to look back on, I tell you. 
 
 They have more varieties of 
 " Bullyvards " around Los Angeles, 
 no
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 than that man Heinz has pickles — 57 
 varieties wouldnt cover 'em. 
 
 There are little holes and big holes, 
 long holes and short holes, holes you 
 fall in all over, and the kind you pull 
 in after you, on your way down. There 
 are mud holes, water holes, oil holes, 
 dust holes, in fact. Bill, every known 
 variety of chuck holes you ever thought 
 of, can be found in and around Los 
 Angeles. 
 
 Ill
 
 MT. LOWE 
 
 S all tenderfeet 
 are expected to 
 the trip up Mt. 
 
 do, I took 
 
 Lowe. Its all right, that trip 
 fej^ is, except that it makes you feel 
 that if you ever get down on the level 
 again you'll go to church a little 
 oftener, and be prepared for the next 
 world. 
 
 By gum, there are spots on that trip, 
 and then some! 
 
 "3
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 I went up with a fellar named 
 Smith, and as we got half way up that 
 blamed incline, I got to thinking pretty 
 hard. 
 
 You see. Bill, at the bottom of that 
 incline, there's a solid wall of rock, 
 fifty feet high, not more than twenty- 
 five feet from where those cable cars 
 stop. 
 
 Yes-sir-ree, I got to thinking that if 
 anything busted, and we shot back 
 down hill, they would never be able 
 to tell which was me and which was 
 Smith when they gathered us up to 
 ship back East in the baggage car. 
 
 You bet I kept my mouth shut and 
 I guess I held my breath too, for some- 
 way I kinder felt that too much laugh- 
 ing and loud talking would jar that 
 dinky car and mebbe loosen something. 
 114
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 I was mighty glad when I reached 
 level ground at the top of the incline. 
 
 Then began a foot race for another 
 dinky car, a bobbed tail electric this 
 time, that takes you on further up the 
 mountain to Mt. Lowe. There were 
 about seventy-five people all trying at 
 once to get into one lonesome little car, 
 that groaned with only twenty-five 
 aboard, but they all got on somehow or 
 somewhere, and the rest of the ride we 
 wiggled up and down, in and out, 
 around corners and across squeaking 
 little bridges, that looked like they'd 
 go down for a cent and a half, and all 
 the time everybody was " oh-ing " and 
 " ah-ing " and no wonder. 
 
 Say Bill, if you ever get to Califor- 
 nia, dont miss this trip. They skin 
 you on the price of it, all right, but its 
 
 "5
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 the most satisfying " skinning " I've 
 had since I came out here. 
 
 Be sure and take your mother-in-law 
 along, Bill, and half way up that in- 
 cline, if there's anything on earth you 
 want, ask her for it, while you are 
 hanging onto the side of the mountain 
 at an angle of 65 degrees. 
 
 You'll get it all right, if she's got 
 wind enough left to say, " Yep! " 
 
 116
 
 COUNTING MY MONEY— 
 MEBBE! 
 
 Y gum, Bill, I own 
 more oil stock 
 than that man 
 Rockyfellar does. 
 I've got stock in every blamed 
 company that ever opened up, 
 from Los Angeles to the City of Mex- 
 ico. Some of it is paid for, some of it 
 is half paid for, and some of it never 
 will be paid for. 
 
 Some of it is mine, only it ain't — in- 
 stallment plan, Bill — and I'm going to 
 let go of every share of it. 
 117
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 They're the only ones I can let go of, 
 b'gosh; the others are mine for 
 '' keeps." 
 
 Why, Bill, I've got a bunch of oil 
 stock that would choke an elephant, 
 and I've counted up my money — on 
 paper — and figured out I'll have just 
 $3,333,333 inside of the next six 
 months, if I don't wake up in the 
 meantime. 
 
 I've looked for dividends so long, 
 Bill, that the doctor says I'm liable to 
 have stigmatism of both eyes, but when 
 those dividends show up — well, like as 
 not I'll send you a season ticket to Cali- 
 fornia. Season's good the year round 
 out here, so I'll bet you'll work that 
 ticket till it hollers " help." If every- 
 thing these oil fellars tell me works 
 out according to schedule, mebbe I'll 
 ii8
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 send a special train back there for you 
 and the old woman. Kinder surprise 
 you folks back there to hear of your 
 Uncle Eben buying out the Southern 
 Pacific and taking a mortgage on the 
 Santa Fe, wouldn't it? 
 
 That's what some of these oil fellars 
 reckon I'll be doing before very long. 
 
 Mebbe I will, I dunno. 
 
 The production of oil in California 
 amounts to over $50,000,000 a year, 
 Bill. Looks like some fellars out here 
 ought to be able to smoke two-bit 
 cigars, don't it? 
 
 Say, did I ever look like a " Rube " 
 to you — honest? 
 
 Sometimes I kinder wonder how 
 
 these fellars knew I'd be so easy, and 
 
 come and camped right down side of 
 
 me until every blamed thing I had left 
 119
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 in my jeans was a horse-chestnut and 
 a suspender button. Still, it's worth a 
 lot to have some fellar, with a diamond 
 in his shirt front that is big enough to 
 stop a freight train, slap you on the 
 back and call you " Colonel." Makes 
 other folks open their eyes and think 
 you're somebody when, 'way down in- 
 side of you, you know mighty well 
 you're just a d — fool. 
 
 Of course, I got in on the ground 
 floor, Bill, but sometimes I believe I 
 was what they call a " skinch " out 
 here. I never have asked anybody 
 what a " skinch " was, but I'll bet it 
 ain't anything to pin a medal on you 
 for. 
 
 Speaking of medals — I hope some 
 day I'll be able to pin a medal onto the 
 fellar that had courage enough to nail
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 boxes of chocolate creams onto the 
 backs of the seats in some of the 
 play houses in this town. All over, 
 you're sure to find little metal boxes 
 marked " candy," not two feet from 
 your pocketbook, that just sit and rub- 
 ber at you until you can feel a dime 
 getting so blamed hot in your pocket 
 book, that you can smell leather burn- 
 ing. So you trot out the dime and drop 
 it into the slit that's grinning at you 
 and out pops a box of candy — mebbe! 
 
 By gum, I played that machine in 
 front of me, three times — thirty cents 
 — and nothing happened. So I tried 
 the next one, and got a box of choco- 
 lates, that, honest, Bill, if one of 'em 
 hit you, it would knock you down. 
 
 They had been there, well, some fel- 
 lar said, since the show opened. I 
 
 121
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 dont know. I gave them to a kid in 
 front of me that had the " wiggles " 
 and they kept him busy the rest of the 
 show. 
 
 They say a Los Angeles man will 
 sell everything he owns if he can get 
 his price for it, and b'gosh, I believe it. 
 
 Yes sir, everything he owns, except 
 his wife, and between you and me, 
 Bill, many a poor hen pecked man 
 looks over the exchange column to find 
 some other fellar, who like himself, is 
 ready and anxious to make a trade in 
 that line, on any old terms to suit. 
 
 Los Angeles is a great town for 
 " swaps." 
 
 The papers every Sunday are full of 
 
 'em. 
 
 They'll swap anything from a half 
 worn out tooth brush or a moth eaten 
 
 122
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 angora cat, to a ten acre orange grove 
 with a nine thousand dollar mortgage 
 on it, and some of 'em would sell the 
 shirt on their back, if they could make 
 a profit on it. 
 
 You know. Bill, I believe you could 
 even make a good trade on your 
 mother-in-law out here — nothing like 
 trying, better bring her along, and 
 trade her for a good setting of Rhode 
 Island Reds. 
 
 Of course that might seem awful 
 cheap for her, but old hens aint worth 
 much out here — market is overstocked, 
 and besides, Californians aint looking 
 for trouble 
 
 123
 
 SOME THINGS 
 BOUGHT IN LOS 
 ANGELES 
 
 BOUGHT a set 
 of monkey trip- 
 lets in a Japanese store for two 
 bits. 
 2j^s^3?^. Two bits, Bill, is Californese 
 for twenty-five cents. 
 
 I got bit on 'em, too, for they sold 
 
 'em as low as five cents a set, later in 
 
 the season, and at last gave 'em away 
 
 with a package of Japanese incense. 
 
 Now, Japanese incense. Bill, is a lot 
 
 125
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 of stuff pressed together hard, like 
 Spratts Dog Biscuits, only in smaller 
 doses, thank goodness, and it is sup- 
 posed to smell mighty fine when you 
 burn it, but suffering Peter — a pile of 
 rubbish burning in a Westlake alley, 
 is a bunch of violets compared to it. 
 
 Glue, old rubber boots, out of date 
 eggs, last years hamburger and over 
 ripe limburger — all these and a few 
 more, were never in their most 
 *' smelly " days, guilty of " acting up," 
 like real Japanese incense burning. 
 
 These little monkeys I bought, come 
 in all sizes, from the little baby monks, 
 to the old granddaddies. They all sit 
 up in a row, three of 'em, and one has 
 his hands over his ears, the second cov- 
 ering his eyes, and the third has his 
 hands over his mouth. 
 126
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 I say " his," Bill, because they must 
 certainly be boy monkeys — a girl mon- 
 key, would never live long enough to 
 have her first picture made, if she had 
 to close her mouth, and her ears, and 
 her eyes. You know that yourself, 
 Bill. 
 
 I asked the grinning Jap, I bought 
 'em of, what they were up to. All I 
 could get out of him was, that they 
 were the " three wise monkeys," and 
 meant, " I hear no evil, see no evil, and 
 speak no evil." 
 
 Mebbe they dont — I dont know. 
 
 I also bought a flea scratcher, at the 
 same store. 
 
 Never heard of one, did you? 
 
 Waal, they are little carved ivory 
 hands about as big as a half dollar, 
 with the fingers drawn up, ready for 
 127
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 business. They are on the end of a 
 long stick, and the trick is, to slide it 
 up and down between the shoulder 
 blades, and along your back bone, 
 turning the gentleman over before he 
 has bored a hole clean through you. 
 They tell you in Los Angeles, that the 
 people down in San Diego couldn't 
 live without 'em. 
 
 They are fashionable down there, 
 and I heard that some of the society 
 leaders gave " scratcher " parties, the 
 most graceful handler of the scratcher, 
 winning the prize. 
 
 When you are in San Diego, they'll 
 tell you this same story on Los An- 
 geles. 
 
 With the exception of San Fran- 
 cisco, San Diego and Los Angeles love 
 each other more than any two towns
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 I've run across. Cant say enough 
 about each other, while San Francisco 
 and Los Angeles love so strongly, they 
 could eat each other up. 
 
 Speaking of fleas, you know, Bill, 
 there are some people in this world 
 who are so blamed mean, a flea 
 wouldnt bite 'em. 
 
 I met the meanest man in California 
 the other day, and if I ever set eyes 
 on him again, I'll bust him up in busi- 
 ness, buying arnica and court plaster. 
 
 That man told me the very first 
 chance I got, to pick a ripe olive and 
 eat it. 
 
 I did. 
 
 All I've got to say is, if ever I lay 
 
 my hands on that critter, it will take 
 
 him longer to close his face than it did 
 
 me, after I ate one of 'em. 
 129
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 There are some things in this world 
 that seem to stick right in your throat, 
 no matter how much you swallow over 
 'em and I'll bet, I'll never be able to 
 get the taste of that olive, below my 
 wind-pipe. I'll send a couple of 'em 
 home, Bill, — give 'em to your mother- 
 in-law, and tell her to put 'em both in 
 her mouth at once — that they have to 
 be eaten in pairs, and if she lives 
 through it, and still believes in you, 
 she'll stand by you till your money 
 gives out. 
 
 130
 
 JUST DREAMING 
 
 ILL, didnt some 
 fellar ask another 
 fellar once, " what was more 
 rare than a day in June? " 
 ^M If he'd asked me, I'd told 
 him, " a winter in Los Angeles." 
 
 If there's any place nearer Heaven 
 on this earth, than a sunny winter day 
 in Southern California, when as far as 
 you can see, the grass is like a great 
 green rug, and flowers of every color 
 131
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 and kind, are in bloom — when you can 
 take your back home papers out under 
 a big oak tree and lie down and read 
 of some poor devil freezing to death, 
 in a down-east blizzard — if there's any 
 place. Bill, that can hold a candle to 
 it on this earth, or any other, yours 
 truly dont want to know of it. 
 
 Like the little fellar from Pasadena, 
 this is good enough for your Uncle 
 Eben. 
 
 If you didnt have a calendar in your 
 vest pocket, and didnt see a newspaper 
 every day, you'd forget what month it 
 is out here. 
 
 To-day is the 9th of March, and 
 its so hot. Bill, that if I was a dog, my 
 tongue would be hanging out, and you 
 could hear me pant clear across the 
 street. 
 
 132
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 Wonder where the fellar was lo- 
 cated, that wrote the song called, " Lis- 
 ten to the Nightingale." He wouldnt 
 had to worked so hard, if he'd been 
 sitting here under this old oak tree 
 with me. He would have had to put 
 on the brakes, to keep from writing too 
 many verses, for he couldnt have told 
 it all in one or two. 
 
 Now, I'd kinder like to write a song 
 called, " Listen to the Turtle Doves," 
 for there are twenty of 'em in the 
 branches over my head, holding a con- 
 cert with the same number of mocking 
 birds, and I'll bet my bottom dollar, I 
 could kill enough quail — if I was mean 
 enough — within a hundred feet of me, 
 to be arrested for having too many in 
 my possession. 
 
 These quail are so tame. Bill, they 
 133
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 seem more like pigeons out in the barn- 
 yard back home. 
 
 This aint no lie. 
 
 You know yourself, I aint been out 
 here long enough to get this everlast- 
 ing lying disease in my system, and 
 I'm willing to sit on top of a whole 
 Bible factory and say what I've writ- 
 ten is the truth, the whole truth and 
 nothing but. I may be getting a little 
 daflfy on California, Bill, but there are 
 two things I havn't got yet — bitten by 
 a tarantula or acclimated. 
 
 From some half baked farmers back 
 home, who came to sec me, when they 
 heard I was going " clear way out to 
 Californy," I expected to be dodging 
 tarantulas the biggest part of the time. 
 
 One of 'cm heard they crawled into 
 bed with you — another that you'd find 
 134
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 'em in your boots in the morning and 
 that if you didn't shake your boots hard 
 before you put 'em on they'd bite your 
 big toe and you'd have to have your toe 
 cut oflF, or turn 'em up for good and 
 all. 
 
 The first night, when the fleas got 
 after me, I thought of old Slim Peters, 
 and remembered he said to take my 
 jack knife and cut the toe off, just as 
 soon as I felt the sting. 
 
 But when I started to get it, I re- 
 membered again, I traded it to an 
 Indian on the way out to California 
 for a string of glass beads and that was 
 the only thing, I guess, that saved my 
 toe. 
 
 I havent seen a tarantula yet, Bill, 
 hard as I've hunted — only stuffed ones 
 in the stores. But I'm still hunting, 
 
 I3S
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 for I've made up my mind to find one 
 or bust, and I'll send it home to Slim 
 Peters, C. O. D., when I do. 
 
 The natives tell you it takes a year 
 to get acclimated — that means, Bill, 
 getting the " back East " out of you, 
 and the " California " into you. This 
 has to happen to every one that stays 
 here, just as the mumps and the 
 measles are bound to come to every 
 youngster, before he's been on earth 
 very long. 
 
 There are so many things to make 
 you wish you was young again, out 
 here. When I was a young fellar and 
 took the girls home from prayer meet- 
 ings and quilting parties, I remember 
 I used to think I was a pretty gay boy 
 with the girls and I kinder "took" 
 with 'em, cutting out many a " steady " 
 136
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 in those days, and I used to think the 
 whole secret of it laid in my carrying 
 the girls boquets of Canterberry Bells 
 and Sweet Williams. 
 
 That's the only kind of posies there 
 was in the old garden at home, but 
 what a wonderful chance a fellar in 
 California has, to court a girl! 
 
 Flowers are dirt cheap everywhere, 
 and Bill, its good for sore eyes to get 
 a squint at the baskets of flowers you 
 can see any day on the street corners 
 of Los Angeles. 
 
 Carnations, all colors, for ten cents 
 a dozen — think of it, and this in mid- 
 winter, when back home you folks are 
 wading through snow up to your sus- 
 pender buttons, and blowing your stifif 
 old fingers until your wind gives out. 
 
 And they grow out of doors, acres 
 
 137
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 of 'em, and in the sweet pea fields, they 
 mow 'em down for market instead of 
 cutting 'em. Life is too short to count 
 'em — one — two — three; there are mil- 
 lions of 'em and violets — you just never 
 saw such a sight! 
 
 Solid banks of these purple blossoms 
 are tucked into vacant spaces, up 
 against the buildings, everywhere 
 throughout the business district, and 
 only five cents for a generous bunch, 
 while each blossom is as big as a quar- 
 ter, and has a stem on it a quarter of 
 a yard long. 
 
 You neednt snicker. Bill, at what 
 I've just said, for it's the truth, cross 
 my heart. I know what I said about 
 the biggest liars coming from back 
 East, but you know me. Bill, and you 
 know I've never lied to you yet, except- 
 138
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 ing on that horse trade last summer. 
 These baskets of flowers on the street 
 corners in the middle of winter, are 
 the biggest boost to the Angel City it 
 could possibly have. They speak 
 louder to " the stranger within the 
 gates," than all the printed stuff the 
 Chamber of Commerce could hand out 
 in a year. 
 
 Nothing but sunshine and balmy air 
 can bring forth such glorious flowers 
 in mid-winter, and the stranger jots 
 these beautiful sights down in his 
 memory, and they live and are talked 
 of for years after, when about every- 
 thing else he saw in California, is for- 
 gotten. And all the children and 
 grandchildren for years to come will 
 pull up to the big fire place, heaped 
 high with blazing logs — when the 
 139
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 blinds on the old home back East, are 
 creaking and rattling, and the un- 
 latched barn door slams bangs as the 
 fury of a real down east blizzard 
 strikes it — they'll all creep up, and 
 pulling their chairs a little nearer, sit 
 and listen and listen, never tiring of 
 hearing some member of the family, 
 who once went " way out to Califor- 
 nia," tell the wonderful fairy tales 
 (that are true) of this land of dreams. 
 
 140
 
 WHAT KEEPS THE POT 
 A-BOILING 
 
 OS ANGELES is 
 
 the best lighted 
 city in the world, 
 Bill — this is pure, 
 unadulterated truth, every single 
 word of it. 
 Of course, there are some spots 
 around the edges of town where you 
 have to feel your way along the fences 
 to be sure you're still on the sidewalk, 
 but if you're sober, you'll soon get to 
 know just about how far you are from 
 
 your boarding house by the " feel " of 
 
 141
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 each fence, and if you aint sober, 
 every blamed post is a good old friend, 
 reaching out a helping hand to you. 
 By gum, I named every one of 'em. 
 Bill, and many's the night I've stood 
 and talked an hour or so with 'em on 
 the w^ay home. I got enough courage 
 from each one of 'em to brace up and 
 go on to the next, and before I had 
 really talked all I wanted to, I was 
 home. So you see. Bill, street lights 
 are mighty fine sometimes, but there 
 are times when the city seems to be 
 wasting money. But Los Angeles don't 
 count the pennies wasted, or the dol- 
 lars either for that matter, whenever 
 she wants anything and wants it bad. 
 
 No sir-ree. 
 
 A while ago they figured out that 
 they wanted more water, and they 
 142
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 wanted all they wanted of it, too; so, 
 at a cost of $23,000,000, the " Angel 
 City " has got a water supply that the 
 rest of the country is " pop-eyed " over. 
 
 And then they woke up to the fact 
 that their roads were a little the worse 
 for wear — kinder run down at the heel 
 and frazzled out round the edges — so 
 they voted $3,000,000 worth of good 
 roads' bonds, and by so doing the coun- 
 try out here will have two more things 
 to swell up over. Only goes to show 
 how " big " they do things in Southern 
 California, Bill, and that's just what 
 keeps the pot a-boiling out here. 
 
 This town is the first bidder at the 
 sale, and the last bidder too, by gum, 
 and when any town looks mighty wise, 
 and kinder winks its eye, and thinks 
 its going to beat her out, it ain't reck- 
 143
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 oned with the Angel City Booster 
 Club. It's the biggest club on earth, 
 Bill, for every man, woman and child 
 that lives here (and there are over 
 450,000 of 'em) is an honorary mem- 
 ber. I joined the second day I got 
 here, and hope I'll be a director before 
 I'm much older. 
 
 Fact. 
 
 Why, you know old Si Simpkins 
 back home, the fellar that run for Sen- 
 ator, and didn't have any more show 
 than a rabbit; well, he wrote me a let- 
 ter the other day and addressed it 
 
 Eben Slocum, 
 California, 
 
 Los Angeles, 
 and asked me in the letter what part of 
 Los Angeles California was in. 
 
 Speaking about street lights, Bill, 
 144
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 there are four or five streets in the 
 Angel City that are even more beauti- 
 ful than " Little Nemo " ever dreamed 
 about. Looks like the town is dressed 
 up for company every night, month in 
 and month out. Miles of light, Bill, 
 miles of it, and it burns from dusk till 
 midnight. 
 
 Kinder makes you throw out your 
 chest to know you're even boarding in 
 the Angel City, no matter if your land- 
 lady does turn off the gas at 9.30. She 
 don't run the town, thank goodness. 
 She's only a poor, weather-beaten 
 down-easter, here to make a dollar. 
 Lots of 'em bring their little stingy 
 ideas along with 'em, Bill, but after 
 they've been here a while, they get 
 ashamed of themselves, and let it burn 
 till 9:45 on holidays. 
 I4S
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 California is too big to live in and 
 stay small — yep, even if you're broke. 
 You've either got to warm up and hold 
 out a glad hand to your fellow men or 
 quit the country. Ain't no place out 
 here for little minds and little souls, 
 Bill; nope, country's too all fired big. 
 
 The other day I cut loose from town, 
 and got out into the great open country 
 around Los Angeles. For months, 
 every morning when I pulled up the 
 shades and looked out over the house- 
 tops at the great wall of mountains that 
 guards this beautiful fertile valley, I've 
 had a hankering to leave the hustle and 
 bustle of town, and just go over to 
 those old mountains and forget it 
 all. 
 
 Seems like they've been a-calling me 
 
 all these days — seems like I'd known 
 
 146
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 'em ever since I've known anything — 
 seems like they keep a-reaching out to 
 me like a loving mother does to a tired 
 child, and altho' I know I'm a long 
 ways from a child, Bill, there's many a 
 time when a hungry feeling gets me, 
 and I honestly wish I was just a tired 
 little kid once more, with my old moth- 
 er's arms wrapped tight around me. 
 I'd make a pretty good lapful now, but 
 I'll wager she'd be glad to stand it, if 
 it was only possible. 
 
 Bill, don't you ever shame that kid 
 of yours for crawling up in his moth- 
 er's lap — let him crawl up there and 
 be loved until he's so long-legged he 
 has to wrap his feet around the rockers 
 to keep from interfering. Don't you 
 ever shame him. Bill — it will make a 
 better man of him, and he'll be a bet- 
 147
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 ter life-partner for some honest little 
 woman, later on. 
 
 An old mother's love can't hurt any 
 man on earth, Bill, no matter how old 
 he gets to be, and when you find the 
 kind of fellar that turns up his nose at 
 the truest love the Good Father ever 
 put in the heart of a human, keep your 
 eye on him, Bill — he'll bear watching. 
 
 Well, by gum, some " know-it-all " 
 told me those mountains were only a 
 stone's throw from Pasadena — only a 
 stone's throw, mind you — just a nice 
 little walk before breakfast — would 
 give you a dandy appetite, etc., etc., 
 but, thank goodness, I started out on 
 a full stomach, Bill, or I never would 
 have been here to tell the tale. I was 
 so tired before I got even half way 
 that I hired a kid to drive me up into 
 
 I4«
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 the foot-hills, and when he said " Go- 
 long " and drove away and left me, I 
 felt like a lost sheep a long ways from 
 the feeding grounds. 
 
 But I wasn't lonesome — nope — 
 kinder felt like I had father, mother, 
 and all my relations just back of me, 
 up in the canyon; and I shut my eyes, 
 Bill, and dreamed I was just a little 
 kid again, going fishing, with my 
 mouth full of worms for bait. 
 
 But, of course, we all have to wake 
 up, and I tell you, Bill, there ain't no 
 use swelling up and blowing about 
 how big you are in this world. Ain't 
 no use of sticking your hands in your 
 pockets and strutting around like a tur- 
 key gobbler, with all the gold fillings 
 in your front teeth shined up like 
 headlights on a behind time overland 
 
 M9
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 train, because it don't mean anything, 
 after all, Bill. If you could just stand 
 in front of that big rock pile, called 
 the Sierra Madres, for a minute with 
 me, it would surprise you how quick 
 you would shrivel up and look like a 
 piece of lemon peel that some poor fel- 
 lar had just slipped up on. 
 
 The longer I looked at those moun- 
 tains, the more I began to realize what 
 a measly, miserable, little shrimp I 
 was, anyway. 
 
 Looked like I was just about as im- 
 portant and necessary to keep this old 
 world going round as a little green 
 worm I saw crawling under a leaf; 
 and I had a pretty good opinion of 
 myself, too, when I started out. 
 
 I sat down and listened to the birds 
 singing all around me, and. Bill, meb- 
 iSO
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 be you don't think I listened for rattle- 
 snakes, too, at the same time, for Pasa- 
 dena was the nearest town, and al- 
 though they have a " Red Cross " drug 
 store there, there ain't a blamed drop 
 of emergency medicine in stock. 
 
 No " first-aid-to-the-injured " there, 
 Bill. 
 
 Ain't it a shame! 
 
 151
 
 CATALINA ISLAND 
 
 ATALINA Is- 
 land ought to be 
 called the " Island of Beautiful 
 Dreams." 
 
 " Catalina " dont do it justice. 
 But I bet a cookie whoever named it 
 took their first trip over to the island 
 on a rough day, and didnt feel very 
 flowery. 
 
 Catalina is an island out at sea- 
 way out — and between it and the main- 
 
 IS3
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 land, there are more kinds of tides and 
 currents and swells, than from here to 
 Europe. 
 
 It only takes two hours to make you 
 feel that life aint so much after all, 
 and you'd just as soon quit now as any 
 old time. 
 
 Some fellar told me not to miss the 
 trip, so I took it, and I didn't miss 
 anything but home and mother all the 
 way over and back. 
 
 Oh, my! Oh, my! Bill, you've seen 
 how a cork on the end of a fishline 
 bobs around when a big wave strikes 
 it, aint you? Well, that tug-boat I 
 went over in, had a cork beaten to 
 death. 
 
 It acted more like a bucking bron- 
 cho than anything I've seen before or 
 since. 
 
 IS4
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 It bucked sideways, and humped up 
 in the middle, and kicked from all four 
 corners at the same time. 
 
 I dont remember much about the 
 beautiful view, and I haven't much to 
 write about the " Grand old ocean " 
 but I can truthfully say I parted with 
 everything I had eaten in the last three 
 years. 
 
 I laid down and threw up, and I 
 stood up and threw down, until the 
 elastic in my suspenders refused to 
 work any longer, and I crawled under 
 a settee and hoped some one would 
 take pity on me, and knock me on the 
 head. 
 
 There are times in a man's life when 
 
 he has had enough, and had it rubbed 
 
 in, too. I got mine on that galloping 
 
 tug-boat, and I'll bet there are some 
 
 iss
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 of those passengers I went over with, 
 who are over there yet, afraid to try 
 it again. They'd rather buy a lot and 
 build, than to come back home. 
 
 I'd a been there yet if I hadnt found 
 a feller with a hypodermic syringe, and 
 gave him a couple of dollars to make 
 me forget my troubles, and steer me 
 to my room when I landed in Los 
 Angeles. 
 
 On the boat going over, was a bride 
 and groom. The bride looked very 
 pretty as she tripped lightly down the 
 gang-plank, and came aboard at San 
 Pedro. But when we reached Catalina 
 Island, I managed to pull the corner 
 of one eye open long enough to get my 
 bearings, and I saw the bride again — 
 all that was left of her. Her beautiful 
 curly locks were sewed on a piece of 
 156
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 tape, and had worked out from under 
 her own thin hair — her rats were 
 shifted until they lopped over her right 
 ear — she had lost most of her " dear 
 little puffs," in the bucket on the boat, 
 and a little velvet bow was swinging, 
 in the breeze, on the end of a few loose 
 hairs. She was white as a sheet, and 
 the two rosy spots on her cheeks — war- 
 ranted not to fade when she bought it 
 at the department store — made her face 
 look like a Chinese lantern. 
 
 The weak kneed groom half carried 
 her through the crowd of gaping sum- 
 mer visitors, who line up on both sides 
 of the wharf at Catalina just to guy the 
 poor seasick things that crawl off the 
 boats. They guyed us all and had all 
 the fun they wanted to, with uS' — none 
 of us cared, by gum, if they'd sicked a 
 157
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 dog on us. One fellar hollered at me, 
 " Hey, fatty, go back and get your 
 hat," but as I had used my hat when 
 I was in a hurry, before I could find 
 one of those blamed buckets, I didnt 
 stop to answer back. 
 
 is8
 
 HOMESICK 
 
 ALIFORNIA is 
 called the land 
 of flowers, and the first fellar 
 that called it so, was no liar. 
 He must have been a native 
 — a truthful man, and likewise a 
 " Booster." You never heard a na- 
 tive knock California — no — sir — ree. 
 They're always a boosting, and crow- 
 ing, and swelling out like pouter pig- 
 eons, as soon as they begin to see us 
 sit up and take notice. 
 159
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 Huh I dont they love to see our eyes 
 stick out, and our mouths come open, 
 while we gap at some of the glories of 
 California — the land of sunshine — the 
 land of gold. 
 
 And when we get homesick and say 
 " Good bye, we're going home," they 
 only laugh at us — and Bill, its a kinder 
 mean laugh, too — and they'll say " Oh, 
 you'll come back, they all do. I'll give 
 you just six months at the most, and 
 I'll bet you'll come back with all your 
 relations, and stay next time for good." 
 
 So they slap you on the back, and 
 give you a mighty warm handshake 
 and say, 
 
 " Good by, pardner, tell all the good 
 
 folks back there to come out to God's 
 
 country, and be glad they're living. 
 
 Tell 'em they've only got one life to 
 
 i6o
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 live, and they're going through for the 
 last time. Tell 'em if the Pilgrim 
 Fathers had landed on the Pacific coast 
 instead of the Atlantic, little old New 
 York wouldn't be on the map." 
 
 And I'll be hanged, Bill, before you 
 know it, you're so darned homesick 
 you'd give your old trunk if you hadnt 
 bought your ticket East. 
 
 You dont want to go home — you 
 want to stay/ 
 
 And when the train pulls out for 
 back east, and you're on it, b'gosh^ 
 there's something inside of you that be- 
 gins to swell up like a sponge, as you 
 look out of the car window and see the 
 flowers and orange groves slipping by. 
 
 You are only beginning to realize 
 you are leaving it all, and may never 
 come back again. 
 
 i6i
 
 A TENDERFOOT 
 
 Sure, Bill, a man's a fool to cry, but 
 I'd 'a dropped a few tears if I hadn't 
 blown 'em out through my nose. 
 
 And let me add, Bill, as I am taking 
 one last look out of the car window, at 
 the fast disappearing, familiar sights 
 I have learned to love, like a native 
 born — let me add, God never fashioned 
 another such wondrous spot, on the en- 
 tire surface of this old earth. 
 
 There is only one real land of sun- 
 shine and its out here where the sun 
 goes down. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 162
 
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