THE WONDERLAND OF CALIFORNIA 



85 



"Of its kind it is undoubtedly the most 

 stupendous catastrophe in all history, and 

 when that is said not the half is told. 

 Now that the smoke pall is lifting, one 

 looks over a ruin so vast and complete 

 that the mind, refusing to grasp it for 

 lack of contrast, registers an impression 

 of the commonplace. When, after hours 

 of wandering amid calcined brick piles 

 one returns to Oakland across the bay, its 

 flowers and gardens appear foreign and 

 strange San Francisco is a huge lime- 

 kiln ; its streets elevated causeways that 

 run through charred and blackened cel- 

 lars" 



Compare that complete ruin with what 

 one sees from the same viewpoint today : 

 a larger, fairer, nobler city that lays her 

 parks and squares, temples, skyscrapers, 

 residences, a flexible mantle of brick and 

 stone, across a dozen hills ; add the Ex- 

 position, a work that cost over 50 million 

 dollars, and you have a monument to the 

 pluck and perseverance of the manhood 

 of San Francisco such as will never be 

 surpassed. 



MANY SPIRITS BECOME ONE 



It has been said of San Francisco that 

 it is not a city, but a spirit. It might be 

 added that this is the spirit of Califor- 

 nia, the indomitable spirit of '49 plus 

 the best qualities of a dozen races added 

 since — Spanish warmth of love and its 

 ease, a Latin penchant for music and the 

 arts, the imperturbability of the Orient, 

 Scandinavian faithfulness, and so on — 

 all these she has, a wonderful combina- 

 tion fused in a flame that cannot be 

 quenched by adversity. 



So varied is she in her likings, pleas- 

 ures, and occupations that it is impossi- 

 ble to reduce even her essences to the 

 limits of these paragraphs. Situated on 

 a peninsula with towering hills, washed 

 on three sides by the sea, her wants sup- 

 plied by the most fruitful country on 

 earth, it would be a matter of wonder if 

 she were not something of a Hedonist. 



Good-humored, kind, hospitable to the 

 echo, your San Franciscan rather prefers 

 to get all he can out of life now and take 

 his chance with the hereafter. Some- 

 thing of a gourmand, he is quite univer- 

 sal in his tastes. The cooks of all lands 



cater to his needs and cater better than 

 they ever did at home. In San Francisco 

 you can eat a better French, Mexican, or 

 Italian dinner, served at lower prices, 

 with better service, than in Paris, Mex- 

 ico City, or Rome. 



The Latin blood, of which a generous 

 strain now runs in its veins, calls insist- 

 ently for music, and San Francisco was 

 for a long time the only city in America 

 where grand opera could run all the year 

 round. The climate makes against read- 

 ing. It takes a long winter to produce 

 students. But if the San Franciscan 

 leaves books largely to his wife and 

 daughter, he is nevertheless thoroughly 

 Grecian in his love of beauty and sub- 

 scribes liberally to the arts. 



the caeieornian's phieosophy 



One might sum his liberal philosophy: 

 to be a staunch friend, a good neighbor; 

 to live well and broadly; to love beauty 

 in all its forms. Nothing ascetic about it ; 

 nothing highfaluting, but broad and 

 kindly, thoroughly Californian. 



On his business side, the San Fran- 

 ciscan is equally broad. Though he no 

 longer goes to business in a frock coat 

 and stove-pipe hat, as in Bret Harte's 

 day, he is still very much of an adven- 

 turer, ready to take a chance, whether 

 it be salvage on a wreck, the financing of 

 a South American revolution, or a "grub- 

 stake" for a prospector on a still hunt 

 for a lost mine, and withal most sound 

 in his business principles. It is in his 

 blood ; for he was born within sound of 

 the Pacific, whose surf thunders of ro- 

 mance ; he breathes the breath of the 

 ''trades" that sweep in from the isles of 

 the southern seas. And examine his lin- 

 eage ! This old gentleman you meet on 

 the street may be a bit tottering about the 

 knees, but the frank, strong soul of him 

 looks out of eyes that are clear, free, and 

 fearless as those of "Tennessee" and his 

 "bearded pards." 



The latter genus, by the way, is not 

 quite extinct. Sometimes in out-of-the- 

 way places you will meet a specimen, 

 beard white over his rough shirt, but hale 

 and hearty ; eyes bits of blue agate — free, 

 fearless, innocent as of yore. If not re- 

 cently converted to "oil," his talk still 



