We are soon in Orange county, and the scene changes some, the soil being, if possible, more fertile. We pass large orange groves of the deepest green, and immense fields of corn, squashes, pumpkins, peanuts, beans, and here and there walnut groves and plantations of young fig trees. Anaheim, Orange and Santa Ana come in quick succession; we are in the center of a raisin district of the very greatest interest. We can hardly realize the change. Not having been here since the boom, everything seems almost new. Santa Ana has grown to be the queen of the valley, and is undoubtedly, together with its two sister cities, Orange and Tustin, one of the most prosperous as well as lovely places to be found in the beautiful South. As we board the street car and ride up town from the depot, we realize the change even more. On every side are signs of wealth and refinement, of new ideas and new capital, both mostly imported from the East. Broad avenues one hundred feet wide, on either side, lined with trees of various kinds, cultivated fields immediately beyond, which, with cottages, villas and churches, all speak of a prosperous and intelligent population. Santa Ana has her share of these stately structures. The Brunswick is as fine and substantial a building as any one could wish,--lofty and airy and of imposing architecture, large rooms and spacious halls. The boom that has been so much misjudged has done much more than settle up the country and bring capital. It has left behind substantial improvements and a taste for architecture, the arts and sciences, which can but be of permanent value to the country. It brought the country at one bound from its former frontier life and characteristics to a high degree of civilization and refinement. It brought capital, soil, climate and energy together in a way that is hardly found anywhere else out of our State. The boom is over, but the benefits of the boom are yet here, and are permanent. Santa Ana, Orange and Tustin are like three precious stones in a ring of verdure. Only a few miles apart, they are like the villas on the outskirts of a central imaginary city, from which the wealthy and poor likewise fled to a more retired country life, to enjoy both seclusion and society, both the pleasures of country life and the advantages of an active city, where every luxury and necessity can be found at the door of every home. Santa Ana has a fine, large, central business street, with new and costly brick blocks containing stores of every description. In this climate, however, we can see no necessity for ice, and the manufacturer and mixer of cool drinks can but find his business unprofitable. Up and down this street a line of cars runs all day long at fixed hours, connecting with other lines in Tustin and Orange. A trip or two on any of the lines is one of real pleasure.