Just
imagine a long open car full of people, each man, woman, and child
greedily munching the tender corn! By the time one bag full has been
eaten, heads begin to wobble, and soon there is a "Land of Nod"--real
nod, too. Some days, when the air is particularly soft and balmy,
everyone in the car will be oblivious of his whereabouts. Not one stop
is made from the lake to the city.
Faye and I were at the lake almost a week--Garfield Beach the bathing
place is called---so I could make a few water-color drawings early in
the morning, when the tints on the water are so pearly and exquisitely
delicate. During the day the lake is usually a wonderful blue--deep
and brilliant--and the colors at sunset are past description. The sun
disappears back of the Oquirah Mountains in a world of glorious yellow
and orange, and as twilight comes on, the mountains take on violet and
purple shades that become deeper and deeper, until night covers all
from sight.
There was not a vacant room at Garfield Beach, so they gave us two
large rooms at Black Rock--almost one mile away, but on the car line.
The rooms were in a low, long building, that might easily be mistaken
for soldiers' barracks, and which had broad verandas with low roofs
all along both sides. That queer building had been built by Brigham
Young for his seven wives! It consisted of seven apartments of two
rooms each, a sitting room and sleeping room; all the sitting rooms
were on one side, opening out upon the one veranda, and the bedrooms
were on the other side and opened out upon the other veranda.
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