AND PACIFIC COAST GUIDE.

 

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number, are growing here, planted by Gen.
Stoneman.

The town of San Gabriel is located about
one and a half miles north of the station,
and is completely embowered in foliage,
among which are all the varieties of orna-
mental trees, fruit trees, vines, and flowers,
grown on the Pacific Coast, the citizens
seemingly having taken great pains, to
procure some of every kind of tree and
shrub, with which to beautify their other-
wise beautiful town.

We have referred to the old, Old Mis.
sion, now we will refer to the Old Mission
Church, which is located close on our left,
just before reaching this station. It is ina
dilapidated condition, but the bells are
still hanging in plain view from the cars,
which were wont to call the faithful to
their devotions, long before the “blarsted
Yankees” invaded the country.

The Sierra Madre Villa is a finely ap-
pointed hotel, situated about three miles
from the station, away up on the foot-hills
1,800 feet above the level of the sea. It is
in a most beautiful location, overlooking
the whole valley of Los Angeles, Santa
Monica and Wilmington, with thousands
of acres in orange and fruit orchards, and
in vineyards, in the foreground, and in the
rear the towering mountains. From
springs in these mountains the sparkling
waters are conducted in pipes, and com-
pelled to do duty in the fountains in front
of the Villa, in every room in the house,
and for irrigating 3,000 orange, lemon, and
other fruit trees adjoining the hotel. This
is a lovely place to sojourn—if not forever,
certainly for a season. At this Villa is the
best of accommodation for about 50 guests,
at charges from $12 to $15 per week.

Close to the station, on the left, the tour-
ist will find a variety of cactus not hereto-
fore seen on this route. There are over
two hundred varieties—so we are told—of
these cactus plants. The ones at this
station grow about ten feet high, and are
of the pad species, 7.¢., they grow, com-
mencing at the ground, in a succession of
great pads, from eight inches in width to
fifteen inches in length, and from one to
three inches in thickness. These pads are
covered with sharp thorns, and grow one
upon the other, connected by a tough stem,
round and about two inches in diameter.
These cacti bear a kind of fruit of a
pleasant flavor, which is used principally
by the Indians or Spanish-Mexican resi-

ents.

 

From San Gabriel, we continue up the
plateau, with the valley of San Gabriel
River on the right, 2.5 miles to

Savanmna—where are well-cultivated
fields, groves and vineyards. Passing on
1.4 miles further is

Monte—This is a thriving town of
several hundred families in the most pro-
ductive portion of San Gabriel Valley.
Here corn and hogs are the staples, and
hog and hominy the diet. The settlers
raise immense fields of corn, and feed
great numbers of hogs for market—in fact,
this is the most hogish section yet visited,
but we suppose the Monte men would
bristle up if they were told so.

Passing on, more to the southward, we
soon cross San Gabriel River, which here
has a broad, sandy bed. Sheep are raised
in great numbers in this and the section
of country traversed for the next 50 miles.

Puente—is the next station, 6.2 miles
from Monte, where trains only stop on
signal. It is situated on the east bank of
San Jose Creek, beyond which and the
west is the La Puente Hills. Most of the
bottom land is fenced and cultivated, the
settlers being mostly Spanish or Mexicans.

Coursing around to the left, up San
Jose Creek, along which will be found
many Mexican houses and herds of sheep,
ten miles brings our train to

Spadra—elevation 706 feet. This isa
small place of ascore or more of dwell-
ings, several stores, and one hotel, and is
the home of an old Missouri gentleman,
familiarly called Uncle Billy Rubottom,
whose house is in a grove just opposite
the station on the right,a few hundred
yards from the depot. He has lived here
near 30 years, and keeps “open house”
for all his friends, in real old Southern
style. He can often be seen at the depot
mounted on his mustang, under asombrero,
something smaller than a circus tent, and
as happy as a bevy of New England girls
would be in a Los Angeles orange orchard.

Passing on up the creek, which is
gradually dwindling, beyond which area
succession of buttes, or low, grass-covered
hills, 3.5 miles brings us to

Pomona—tThis is a promising little
town of about 600, with some good build-
ings. Garey avenue—the principal one—
is planted on each side, with Monterey
cypress and eucalyptus trees, and presents
a beautiful appearance. Four artesian
wells supply the town with water, and for
irrigating purposes, these wells range