sack or two of barley and oats, and some packages of canned fruits and vegetables. For lodgings and provisions generally, we decided to depend on the scattered ranches and stage-stations, notwithstanding vague rumors we would be likely to "rough it," in doing so. With "Adios!" and "Good luck to you!" from broad-shouldered, big-hearted Gen. Banning, we rolled out of Wilmington one day toward noon; and crossing numerous sloughs and quicksands, past countless flocks of wild-geese, arrived the same evening at Anaheim. Here we found quite a settlement of Germans, fresh from Rhineland, engaged chiefly in wine-making. It appears, they had clubbed together in San Francisco, and bought a thousand acres of the Los Angelos Plains, bordering on the Santa Anna river, whose waters they now used for irrigating purposes. This they divided into twenty-acre lots, with a town-plot in the centre and convenient streets, each lot-holder being also owner of a town-lot of half an acre besides. Here were some five hundred or more Germans, all industriously engaged, and exhibiting of course their usual sagacity and thrift. They had constructed acequias, and carried the hitherto useless Santa Anna river everywhere--around and through their lots, and past every door; they had hedged their little farms with willows, and planted them with vines, orange, lemon, and olive trees; and the once barren plains in summer were now alive with perpetual foliage and verdure. Of course, there had consequently been a great rise in values. The land had cost them only two dollars per acre in 1857; but now in 1867, it was rated at one hundred and fifty dollars, with none to sell. We drove through the clean and well-kept avenues or streets, scenting Rhineland on every side; and, indeed, this Anaheim itself is nothing but a bit of Germany, dropped down on the Pacific Coast. It has little in common with Los Angelos the dirty, but the glorious climate and soil, and was an agreeable surprise every way. We halted at the village-inn, which would have passed very well for a Wein-Haus in Fatherland, and were entertained very nicely. The proprietor was also the village-schoolmaster, and his frau was one of the brightest and neatest little house-keepers, we had seen on the Coast. They gave us bologna sausage and native wine for supper, as well as excellent tea; and when bed time came, we were conducted to apartments unimpeachable every way. In the course of the evening, half the village seemed to drop in for a sip of wine or glass of beer (they kept both, of course), and the guest-room became so thick with smoke, you could have cut it with a knife. The next morning they gave us some wine for our trip, five years old, that had lost much of its alcoholic properties, and so soft and oily, it would have passed for tolerable Hockheimer, or even Johannisberger, almost anywhere.