noon
Already she was miserably homesick for the ranch . She remembered the days she had spent in the little dairy-house , happy in her work , making butter and cheese ; skimming the great pans of milk , scouring the copper vessels and vats , plunging her arms , elbow deep , into the white curds ; coming and going in that atmosphere of freshness , cleanliness , and sunlight , gay , singing , supremely happy just because the sun shone . She remembered her long walks toward the Mission late in the afternoons , her excursions for cresses underneath the Long Trestle , the crowing of the cocks , the distant whistle of the passing trains , the faint sounding of the Angelus . She recalled with infinite longing the solitary expanse of the ranches , the level reaches between the horizons , full of light and silence ; the heat at noon , the cloudless iridescence of the sunrise and sunset . She had been so happy in that life ! Now , all those days were passed . This crude , raw city , with its crowding houses all of wood and tin , its blotting fogs , its uproarious trade winds , disturbed and saddened her .