macadam in vain; for it has left it a surface of wave-like undulations,
from out of which the frequent bowlder protrudes its unwelcome head, as
if ambitiously striving to soar above its lowly surroundings. But this
one don't mind, and I am perfectly willing to put up with the bowlders
for the sake of the undulations. The sensation of riding a small boat
over "the gently-heaving waves of the murmuring sea" is, I think, one
of the pleasures of life; and the next thing to it is riding a bicycle
over the last three miles of the San Pablo Avenue macadam as I found it
on that April morning.

The wave-like macadam abruptly terminates, and I find myself on a common
dirt road. It is a fair road, however, and I have plenty of time to look
about and admire whatever bits of scenery happen to come in view. There
are few spots in the "Golden State" from which views of more or less
beauty are not to be obtained; and ere I am a baker's dozen of miles
from Oakland pier I find myself within an ace of taking an undesirable
header into a ditch of water by the road-side, while looking upon a scene
that for the moment completely wins me from my immediate surroundings.
There is nothing particularly grand or imposing in the outlook here; but
the late rains have clothed the whole smiling face of nature with a
bright, refreshing green, that fails not to awaken a thrill of pleasure
in the breast of one fresh from the verdureless streets of a large sea-
port city. Broad fields of pale-green, thrifty-looking young wheat, and
darker-hued meads, stretch away on either side of the road; and away
beyond to the left, through an opening in the hills, can be seen, as
through a window, the placid waters of the bay, over whose glittering,
sunlit surface white-winged, aristocratic yachts and the plebeian smacks
of Greek and Italian fishermen swiftly glide, and fairly vie with each
other in giving the finishing touches to a picture.