The Smiling Hill-Top, and other California sketches

In Short

This collection of sketches captures the light-hearted migration of a New England family to the burgeoning landscapes of Southern California. Moving in search of health and rest, the author finds herself setting down roots in a world of wild gardens, idiosyncratic neighbors, and the constant, often humorous, struggle to domesticate the untamed West. Part travelogue and part domestic memoir, the book endures because it eschews formal history for a candid, witty look at the daily "adventures" of building a home, raising children, and embracing a life of unencumbered freedom.

The Story

The narrative begins with a family of six—two adults, two boys, and two dogs—transitioning from a rigorous, structured life in New England to the sun-drenched, unpredictable atmosphere of Southern California. The author approaches this move not as a grand pilgrimage, but as a series of domestic experiments. She recounts the practical trials of establishing a home: the folly of planting a lawn that rabbits devour, the comic failure of trying to keep a private cow, and the ongoing, often exasperating, dance with local tradesmen and temperamental household help.

As the family settles onto their "Smiling Hill-Top," the focus shifts from mere survival to the nuances of local character. The author introduces a colorful cast of figures, including Signor Garibaldi, a retired wine merchant turned philosopher-gardener, and the kind-hearted Englishwoman who runs a goat ranch, providing the family with their own "Sabine Farm." These figures represent the easy camaraderie of a land still in its adolescent, enthusiastic stage of development.

The narrative weaves through these experiences with a persistent, inquisitive spirit. The author reflects on the "Why not?" philosophy that defines her new environment, a mindset that encourages her to attempt everything from selling Red Cross buttons on a street corner to venturing out on a solo "adventure in solitude" to reclaim her own time. She candidly explores the challenges of life on the edge of the Arroyo Seco, including the intrusive noises of modern suburbia and the persistent, shaky reality of earthquakes.

As the sketches reach their conclusion, the author meditates on the nature of "growing up"—both for her children and for the region itself. She finds a profound satisfaction in discarding the "needless accumulations of life," whether they be old letters, heavy winter clothes, or rigid expectations of how a home should function. By the final chapter, the family has fully embraced the California ethos. She concludes that the region is a "land of the second chance," where the climate and the spirit of the people invite a mellower, more amiable way of existing. She accepts the imperfections of the place—the "culls" of the fruit crop and the occasional frustration of a broken-down motor—as part of the charm of a life defined by openness, imagination, and the recurring, optimistic opportunity to begin again.

How It Unfolds

The transplantation begins The family leaves their conventional New England life for the warmth of California, expecting only a year of rest. They quickly find themselves "taking root," trading rigid routines for the surprises of a landscape where the climate dictates the rhythm of the day.

The battle for the garden The author attempts to cultivate a perfect lawn and a productive household, only to be thwarted by rabbits, uncooperative governesses, and the relentless California sun. Each failure is met with humor, leading to a realization that life in this new setting is better managed with flexibility than with strict planning.

The social landscape The family encounters an array of characters, from philosophical gardeners to generous goat-keeping landladies, who embody the West’s informal spirit. These relationships transform their house from a mere rental into a true, if constantly evolving, home.

The call of the open road Yearning for a respite from the constant demands of war-era committees and household noise, the author embarks on a solo "adventure in solitude." This brief escape teaches her the value of "traveling light" and reinforces her resolve to live without being burdened by unnecessary material or social obligations.

The final outlook The author reconciles her love for the East’s history with her current enchantment with the West’s potential. She concludes that the "Why not?" spirit of California is a vital, imaginative force that makes every morning feel like an adventure.

The People

The author serves as the spirited, observant center of the family. She is a woman who constantly questions the necessity of traditional domestic rigor, moving from a role of rigid management to one of playful, observant "vagabonding."

Her husband, referred to as "J----," provides a grounding, albeit occasionally eccentric, presence. Whether he is experimenting with laboratory work to improve the family's health or "shooting" at noisy neighborhood dogs to keep the peace, he shares the author’s willingness to experiment with their new life.

The two boys, alongside their twin Yorkshire terriers, "Rags" and "Tags," act as the catalysts for many of the family's adventures. Their presence anchors the narrative in the realities of child-rearing, whether they are playing naval war games in the garden or participating in local charity drives.

Signor Garibaldi, the retired wine merchant, acts as the intellectual heart of the hill-top. His letters, filled with pessimistic yet deeply philosophical insights, offer a perspective on the "actual generation" that contrasts with the author’s own optimism.

Finally, the unnamed Englishwoman who operates the "Sabine Farm" represents the ideal neighbor. Her generosity and total lack of business-like selfishness define the kind of community the family hopes to find, providing a stark, welcome contrast to the cold-hearted landlords the author has encountered elsewhere.

In Its Own Voice

"The reactions of more or less temperamental people, suddenly transplanted from a rigorous climate to sunshine and the beauty and abundance of life in Southern California, perhaps give a too highly colored picture, so please make allowance for the bounce of the ball."

The author introduces the sketches by warning that her view is colored by the joy of her new environment.

"A certain 'Why not?' that leads me into all sorts of delightful experiences."

She identifies this question as the core philosophy that drives her to move away from Eastern conventionality.

"I have rid myself of a lot of useless ideas; we don't have to live in any special way."

Reflecting on her "adventure in solitude," she summarizes the personal transformation she has undergone.

What It's Really About

The central theme is the rejection of rigid, inherited conventions in favor of a life dictated by local context and personal imagination. The author argues that "Why not?" is not merely a flippant question, but a vital, imaginative tool for action. She explores the tension between the "set ways" of the East and the youthful, "soft-shelled" temperament of the West. Ultimately, the book is a meditation on the comfort of living unencumbered; it asks how much of our lives—our possessions, our social obligations, and our anxieties—are truly necessary. It suggests that shedding these "accumulations" is the key to finding happiness in a world that is always in the process of "growing up."

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy intimate, essayistic reflections on the domestic life will find a kindred spirit in this author. Her voice is consistently warm, self-deprecating, and sharp, capturing the specific, sun-drenched texture of early twentieth-century California. It feels like reading a series of long, thoughtful letters from a friend who has decided to stop worrying about the "proper" way to live and has instead chosen to laugh at the chaos of moving, gardening, and raising a family.

However, readers should be aware that the book is firmly rooted in its time. The author occasionally employs the casual, often dismissive attitudes toward domestic servants and the "Public" that were common in her social class. Additionally, the dialect and specific historical references—such as the urgent wartime atmosphere of the Red Cross or the local mining camp anecdotes—require a reader willing to step back into 1919. The length is manageable, and the structure of short, thematic sketches makes it perfect for dipping in and out. What remains with you is the author’s infectious, light-hearted resolve to "travel light" through life, a sentiment that feels as relevant today as it did a century ago.