Leaving el Toro after about a ten mile drive over two ranges of small
mountains, through wild flowers, grain, cotton wood, and live oak
trees and by a creek, a fine drive but not for wild horses, you wind
past the home farm and turn sharply to your right over a bridge with
a swing gate, to find yourself suddenly amongst big lawns and live
oaks, great beds of roses and flowers, shrubbery, and a little lake
and glass houses. At the back of this eight acres or more is a natural
terrace one hundred feet high, covered with live oaks, geraniums,
creepers, etc., and up which goes a flight of steps to the orange
orchard at the top. Back of this on the mountains, they are all
round. At the foot of this terrace stands the house, a long rambling
collection of rooms, porches, entrances, open-air dining-room, etc.,
very prettily built to harmonize with the scenery. From the inside
one looks out into a green sea of a dozen different shades of green;
inside it is a perfect place, everything one can want from madame down
to cocktails at which Mr. B. is a pastmaster. Pictures, music, books,
and most of them with histories. The rides and walks up the canyon
are beautiful, the one that goes on past the house winds through the
mountains and across and across the creek, ferns and flowers are all
about and one passes two little cabins, in the furthest of which they
lived when they first came out, there are stories of a bear that
comes here but we don't see anything of him--there are live stock,
olives, oranges, etc., and bees, on the ranch. Friends are always
coming and going, carriages meeting the train at el Toro twice a week
for friends, and so many visitors (and uninvited guests) come that
there has been a well sunk and grounds made for picnic parties about
a quarter of a mile from the house. "Arden" is its name and madame
played Rosalind on the lawn once, where the hammocks and tables for
afternoon tea, etc., are, one forgets that there is any world outside
here, why should you remember when there is all you want, and nothing
to remind you? There are papers of course if you can't let them alone.
"The world forgotten, by the world forgot", is something like it but
not nice enough, and we do a little honey business and get stung
enough to see what it is like, and sometimes garden with musical
interludes and play whist and poker, and fight about gardening or
cards, or whether dried currants are currants, and make cigarettes
with crafty little machines, and go walks and get flowers sometimes
drive or ride or shoot or fish, or watch R making a contraption for
pumping water out of the lake, or go up to where a 40-foot high dam is
starting across a road where the rocks nearly meet, this will make a
big lake, more water, fish and boating, you don't know how the days go
till you are away--then you know.
[Illustration: Arden, 1897.]
Los Angeles, October 14, 1897.
Well, beginning on the left is the little house Mr. B and
Madame went to stay, but when she was getting better last
time, they said it was dryer than her own room--next that
is an enclosed yard with a store room at the back and over
it a room where her theatrical dresses are kept, the
little house right off that is the house girls' rooms, in
front of the last is a bed of carnations and where the two
girls are is the open air dining room, next that is the
indoor dining room, kitchen behind, then Nashtia's room
with a rustic well in front, part of dining room behind
and part of kitchen and big pantry behind that--then an
entrance and little hall behind which is my room as they
call it and bathroom beyond--then Mr. Bozentas' study, hall
behind and then the room with the church windows (the odd
window is a seat of Madames) this a very large room and
goes the whole depth of the house and up to the rafters
with a big granite fireplace and no end of pretty things in
it. I suppose you would call it a drawing room--then there
is a spare bedroom, hall and another bedroom at the back,
then an entrance with a bathroom beyond the hall--then Mr.
B's room with Madame's at the back and these open onto
a wide deep porch with Japanese screens and trellis and
creepers which is the end--the kitchen garden is beyond
the shrubbery to the left and that lawn runs to the right
ever such a way to the farmyard entrance--at the back is
a deep hill 50 yards high or more covered with live oak,
geraniums, wild grasses and so on--on top there is an
orange and olive orchard--in front excepting drives it is
all garden and shrubbery to a creek with a swing gate, I
dare say there are 8 or 10 acres, all this and a small
valley are shut in by high mountains and you exist in a
sort of green sea. That is Madame by her porch, the girls
on the right were Misses Langenberger, Yorke and Easton.
I am doing roses on the well, Annie and Maggie are in the
open dining room, Nashtia is by the little house, Mr. B is
talking to Johnny, left front, Sam is watering with his
small and faithful Bobilo dog near him, the other dog is
a big hound named Rock. If you keep this till you get the
sketch perhaps you can make it out.
[Illustration: Weeding.]
[Illustration: 1900--Beginning of the D----.]
[Illustration: Let Go!]
[Illustration: They're Off!]