E-text prepared by Al Haines
[Frontispiece: The man—Don Miguel Farrel.]
The Pride of Palomar
By
Peter B. Kyne
Author of Kindred of the Dust, etc.
ILLUSTRATED BY
H. R. BALLINGER
and
DEAN CORNWELL
COSMOPOLITAN BOOK CORPORATION
NEW YORK — MCMXXII
DEDICATION
FRANK L. MULGREW, ESQ.
THE BOHEMIAN CLUB
SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA
DEAR FRIEND MUL.—
I have at last finished writing "The Pride of Palomar." It isn't atall what I wanted it to be; it isn't at all what I planned it to be,but it does contain something of what you and I both feel, something ofwhat you wanted me to put into it. Indeed, I shall always wish tothink that it contains just a few faint little echoes of the spirit ofthat old California that was fast vanishing when I first disturbed thequiet of the Mission Dolores with infantile shrieks—when you firstgazed upon the redwood-studded hills of Sonoma County.
You adventured with me in my quest for local color for "The Valley ofthe Giants," in Northern California; you performed a similar service inSouthern California last summer and unearthed for me more local color,more touches of tender sentiment than I could use. Therefore, "ThePride of Palomar" is peculiarly your book.
On a day a year ago, when the story was still so vague I could scarcelyfind words in which to sketch for you an outline of the novel Ipurposed writing, you said: "It will be a good story. I'm sold on italready!" To you the hacienda of a Rancho Palomar will always bringdelightful recollections of the gracious hospitality of Señor CaveCoutts, sitting at the head of that table hewed in the forties. Littledid Señor Coutts realize that he, the last of the dons in San DiegoCounty, was to furnish copy for my novel; that his pride of ancestry,both American and Castilian, his love for his ancestral hacienda atthe Rancho Guajome, and his old-fashioned garden with the greatBougainvillea in flower, were the ingredients necessary to theproduction of what I trust will be a book with a mission.
When we call again at the Moreno hacienda on the Rio San Luis Rey,Carolina will not be there to metamorphose her home into a restaurantand serve us galina con arroz, tortillas and frijoles refritos.But if she should be, she will not answer, when asked the amount of thescore: "What you will, señor." Ah, no, Mul. Scoundrels devoid ofromance will have discovered her, and she will have opened an inn witha Jap cook and the tariff will be dos pesos y media; there will be astrange waiter and he will scowl at us and expect a large tip. AndStephen Crane's broth