ico MY AMERICAN FRIENDS

flaring with the same lights, harassed with the
same " problems " as the New Yorks, Chicagos,
Pittsburgs, Philadelphias, Omahas and Buffaloes
whence the refugees have taken their flight. Like
so'much else in America, California is a paradox;
a place to retreat to and a place to retreat from.
To which class Hollywood belongs I cannot say;
the answer will be according to temperament.
But there is a notable difference between the
sordid ugliness of Main Street in Los Angeles
and the hills and sea of Santa Barbara, with her
coat of many colours and wine-dark eyes; here
the question is less debateable.

Among the host of refugees you may distinguish
a special class—that of the nomads. I have heard
them described as the vanguard of a coming
change in the structure of society, when the
moving car will have reduced the stationary home
to a thing of secondary importance, or even caused
it to disappear. This, perhaps, is an empty dream;
in most places climatic conditions oppose it,
though even in hard climates the car is still a
menace to the home. But in California it is not
impossible. Given a sufficiency of dollars, you
and your family, by choosing time and place,
can live the life of civilized nomads all the year
round, escaping from civilization it may be, but
yet pursued by it in the shape of electricity,
gasoline, certified water, telephones and loud-
speakers laid on in the remotest parts of the wilder-
ness. True, there may be difficulties if young