And,
perhaps floating over the City, a sheer high fog mutes the crescent's
gold to a daffodil yellow; winds moist gauzes over the thrilling evening
star. At the top of the high hill-streets, the lamps run in straight
strings or pendant necklaces. Down their astonishing slopes slide cars
like glass boxes filled with liquid light; motors whose front lamps
flood the asphalt with bubbling gold. If it be Christmas - and nowhere
is Christmas so Christmasy as in California - the clubs and hotels show
facades covered with jewel-designs in red and green lights; mistletoe,
holly, stack high the sidewalks on each side of the flower stands. The
beautiful Native Daughter, eyes dancing, lips smiling, dressed with much
color and more chic, is everywhere. And everywhere too, crowding the
streets, thronging the cafes, jamming the theatres, flooding the parks,
filling the endless files of motor-car, until before your very eyes,
"the city" seems to spawn men, is -
Generous, genial, gay; handsome; frank and fine; careless and care-free;
vital, virile, vigorous; engaging and debonair; witty and winning and
wise; humorous and human; kindly and courteous; high-minded,
high-hearted, high-spirited; here's to him! Ladies, this toast must be
drunk standing - the Native Son.
Pages:
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58