It is in reality a gossiping history of California, and is primarily intended for children. The chapter headed “Before the Gringos Came" charmingly describes a passed-away life. “When I was a girl California was a Mexican Republic," it begins. The teller is supposed to be a very old lady looking back with pleasure to the very different state of civilisation in which she lived her youth before " the times changed and our people learned to do everything as the Americans did it, and to work hard and save money instead of dancing and idling away the time." She describes the life on an old Californian cattle farm, and leaves an impression of a wild sort of happiness. “We almost lived on horseback," she says, "for no one walked if he could help it, and there were almost no carriages nor roads. Neither was there any barns or stables, for the mustangs or tough little ponies fed on the wild grass and took care of them. Every morning a horse was caught, saddled, bridled, and tied by the door ready for use." The Inn of the Silver Moon by Herman K. Viele; this little story is a species of extravaganza. All the way through the reader is uncertain as to whether the hero will wake up and turn out to have been dreaming. But the incidents are kept just within the bounds of possibility, and the reader will lay it down pleased to have been so well amused, and perhaps a little ruffled by the feeling that he has been laughed at.
It is in reality a gossiping history of California, and is primarily intended for children. The chapter headed “Before the Gringos Came" charmingly describes a passed-away life. “When I was a girl California was a Mexican Republic," it begins. The teller is supposed to be a very old lady looking back with pleasure to the very different state of civilisation in which she lived her youth before " the times changed and our people learned to do everything as the Americans did it, and to work hard and save money instead of dancing and idling away the time." She describes the life on an old Californian cattle farm, and leaves an impression of a wild sort of happiness. “We almost lived on horseback," she says, "for no one walked if he could help it, and there were almost no carriages nor roads. Neither was there any barns or stables, for the mustangs or tough little ponies fed on the wild grass and took care of them. Every morning a horse was caught, saddled, bridled, and tied by the door ready for use." The Inn of the Silver Moon by Herman K. Viele; this little story is a species of extravaganza. All the way through the reader is uncertain as to whether the hero will wake up and turn out to have been dreaming. But the incidents are kept just within the bounds of possibility, and the reader will lay it down pleased to have been so well amused, and perhaps a little ruffled by the feeling that he has been laughed at.