They try not only to count their mines and enumerate their palm trees, but they count the miles of their sea-coast, and the acres under cultivation and the height of the peaks, and revel in large statistics and the bigness generally, and forget how a few men rattle around in a great deal of scenery.

They shout their statistics across the Rockies and the deserts to New York.

The Mississippi Valley is non-existent to the Californian.

His fellow-feeling is for the opposite coast-line.

Through the geographical accident of separation by mountain and desert from the rest of the country, he becomes a mere shouter, hurrahing so assiduously that all variety in the voice is lost.