The Lure of San Francisco | Page 2

it!" I exclaimed.

He smiled appreciatively. "Faneuil Hall and the old State House are
interesting."
"Oh, I wasn't thinking about the buildings! I don't even recall how they
look. But I do remember the weather. I was so cold I couldn't even
speak."
"Impossible!" he cried, "you not able to talk!"
"But it's true! My cheeks were frozen stiff. I wore a thick dress, a
sweater, a heavy coat and my furs, and, still I was cold while all the
time I was thinking that the fruit trees and wild flowers were in
blossom in California. If it hadn't been for the symphony concerts and
the opera, I never could have endured an Eastern winter."
"A fine compliment to me when I spent days taking you to points of
historic interest."
I sent him an appreciative glance. "It was good of you," I
acknowledged, "and do you remember that I promised to take you on a
similar pilgrimage when you came to San Francisco?"
He laughed. "And I was foolish enough to believe you, since I had
never been to the Pacific Coast."
The train came to a stop in the Ferry Building and we followed the
other passengers onto the boat. "San Francisco is modern to the core,"
he continued. "Boston dates back generations, but you have hardly
acquired your three score years and ten."
"If you don't like fine progressive cities, why did you come to
California?" His fault-finding with San Francisco hurt me as if it had
been a personal criticism.
"You know why I came," he said gently, with his eyes on my face.
I felt the blood creeping to my cheeks and turned quickly to look for an
out-of-doors seat. In the crowd we were jostled by a little slant-eyed
man of the Orient, resplendent in baggy blue silk trousers tied neatly at
the ankles and a loose coat lined with lavender, whose flowing sleeves
half concealed his slender brown hands.
"There's a man who has centuries at his back." My companion's eyes
traveled from the soft padded shoes to the little red button on the top of
the black skull cap. "Even his costume is the same as his forefathers'."
"If you are interested in the Chinese, I'll show you Oriental San
Francisco. It lies in the heart of the city and its very atmosphere is
saturated with Eastern customs. It is much more sanitary but not as

picturesque as it was before the fire." I flushed as I saw his amusement,
and quickly called his attention to the receding shores where the
encircling green hills had thrown out long banners of yellow mustard
and blue lupins. To the right was Mt. Tamalpais, a sturdy sentinel
looking out to the ocean, its summit pressed against the sky's blue
canopy and its base lost in a network of purple forests. In front of the
Golden Gate was Alcatraz Island, like a huge dismantled warship,
guarding the entrance to the bay, and before us, San Francisco rested
upon undulating hills, its tall buildings piercing the sky at irregular
intervals. We made our way to the forward deck in order to have the
full sweep of the waterfront.
"You should see it at night!" I said, "it is a marvelous tiara. The red and
green lights on these wharves close to the water's edge are the rubies
and emeralds, while above, sweeping the hills, the lights of the
residences sparkle like rows and rows of diamonds."
A crowd of passengers surged around us as the boat poked its nose into
the slip. "There was nothing left of this part of the city but a fringe of
wharves, after the fire." I bit the last word in two, for it was evident the
expression was getting on his nerves. I was thankful that the clanging
chains of the descending gang plank and the tramp of many feet made
further conversation impossible.
"Hurry," he urged, "there's the Exposition car." We were in front of the
Ferry Building and the crowd was jostling us in every direction.
"You surely are not going to the Exposition!" I exclaimed in mock
surprise.
"Of course I am. Where else should we go?"
"But, my dear Antiquary, those buildings are only a few months old!"
He laughed good naturedly. "It ought to suit you Westerners, anyway,"
he retaliated. Then taking my arm, "Let us hurry! Look, the car is
starting!"
"I am going to take the one behind," I announced. "There must be
something old in San Francisco and I am going to find it."
"You'll have a long hunt," rejoined the skeptic, and with his eyes still
on the tail of the disappearing Exposition car, he reluctantly followed
me.
"Lots of strangers in San Francisco for the Fair," he remarked, as from
the car window