The two panels were painted in my studio with the help of my assistant, Ira Remsen, and in 1914, before the fair opened, all of the artists assembled in San Francisco to add the finishing touches and see their work placed. It was my second visit to the Coast, and my earlier memories of the good times, hospitality, and generosity were repeated. Childe Hassam and Robert Reid were among those who helped beautify the buildings, Hassam proving that he was a decorator as well as a picture painter, and Reid making one of the hits of the fair by those fine things in the Fine Arts Building which the city of San Francisco has seen fit to preserve for all time. Our membership in the Lambs’ Club gave us the privilege of enjoying the Bohemian Club, with whom courtesies are exchanged, and in the summer we made the trip to the Bohemian Grove to see the annual play produced. Here in the Outdoor Theater, with the giant redwoods forming a background, one gets a unique impression, if not purely artistic. The proscenium is two hundred feet high and the stage too large for the human animal, making an effect (as the play which I saw was based on purely modern ideas, fit only for an intimate audience) rather disappointing. Like everything else in California, however, it is overwhelming. Over in the Greek Theater in Berkeley, during this summer, it was my good fortune to see Gilbert and Sullivan in the right setting for the first time. The idea of “Trial by Jury” (with the inimitable DeWolf Hopper), played in this theater which has been copied from one of classic times, seemed rather incongruous. But to my surprise it was as Greek as Aristophanes. One is always having surprises out West. I saw one of the three or four best decorations in America, painted by a Californian and totally unknown. They say that a prophet is never respected in his own land, so, instead of giving Charley Dickman, the artist, one of the important jobs at the Exposition, the committee came east to New York and even went to Europe for painters. The decoration that I speak of is across the bay from San Francisco in Oakland, in the office of a Borax company. Dickman has given a picture of the desert, where the product is found, using that Corot gray of Death Valley as a basic color harmony, making the figures and a horse, all of the same tone, chime in with no discord. It shows an unusual ease of treatment of a very difficult question. Again he has managed to turn two corners (which is supposed to be against all laws of decoration) so successfully that one is unaware of the fact. To me, it was a remarkable work of art, but no one in town seemed to know about it.