exquisitely beautiful valleys in the world. These mountains, although
sombre and severe, are not so awful and forbidding as those of the
Arizona desert, but they are notched and jagged, as their name
_Sierra_ indicates, and scars and gashes on their surfaces give proof
of the terrific battles which they have waged for ages with the
elements. A striking feature of their scenery is that they rise so
abruptly from the San Gabriel Valley, that from Pasadena one can look
directly to their bases, and even ride to them in a trolley car; and
the peculiar situation of the city is evidenced by the fact that, in
midwinter, its residents, while picking oranges and roses in their
gardens, often see snow-squalls raging on the neighboring peaks of
the Sierra.

[Illustration: THREE MILES FROM ORANGES TO SNOW.]

It would be difficult to overpraise the charm of Pasadena and its
environs. Twenty-five years ago the site of the present city was a
sheep-pasture. To-day it boasts of a population of ten thousand
souls, seventy-five miles of well-paved streets, numerous handsome
public buildings, and hundreds of attractive homes embellished by
well-kept grounds. One of its streets is lined for a mile with
specimens of the fan palm, fifteen feet in height; and I realized the
prodigality of Nature here when my guide pointed out a heliotrope
sixteen feet in height, covering the whole porch of a house; while,
in driving through a private estate, I saw, in close proximity, sago
and date palms, and lemon, orange, camphor, pepper, pomegranate, fig,
quince, and walnut trees.

[Illustration: A PASADENA HOTEL.]