f northern Stockton Street and the
environs of Telegraph Hill. At the time I picture, no street-cars ran
below Montgomery, on Market Street; traffic did not warrant it. It was a
boundary rather than a thoroughfare. It was destined to be one of the
world's noted streets, but at this time the city's life pulsed through
Montgomery Street, to which we will now return.

Turning from the apparent jumping-off place we cross to the "dollar
side" and join the promenaders who pass in review or pause to gaze at
the shop windows. Montgomery Street has been pre-eminent since the early
days and is now at its height. For a long time Clay Street harbored the
leading dry-goods stores, like the City of Paris, but all are struggling
for place in Montgomery. Here every business is represented--Beach,
Roman, and Bancroft, the leading booksellers; Barrett & Sherwood,
Tucker, and Andrews, jewelers; Donohoe, Kelly & Co., John Sime, and
Hickox & Spear, bankers; and numerous dealers in carpets, furniture,
hats, French shoes, optical goods, etc. Of course Barry & Patten's was
not the only saloon. Passing along we are almost sure to see some of the
characters of the day--certainly Emperor Norton and Freddie Coombs (a
reincarnated Franklin), probably Colonel Stevenson, with his Punch-like
countenance, towering Isaac Friedlander, the poor rich Michael Reese,
handsome Hall McAllister, and aristocratic Ogden Hoffman. Should the
fire-bell ring we will see Knickerbocker No. Five in action, with Chief
Scannell and "Bummer" and "Lazarus," and perhaps Lillie Hitchcock. When
we reach Washington Street we cross to make a call at the Bank Exchange
in the Montgomery Block, the largest structure on the street. The
"Exchange" is merely a popular saloon, but it boasts ten billiard tables
and back of the bar hangs the famous picture of "Samson and Delilah."

Luncheon being in order we are embarrassed with riches. Perhaps the Mint
restaurant is as good as the best and probably gives a sight of more
prominent politicians than any other resort; but something quite
characteristic is the daily gathering at Jury's, a humble
hole-in-the-wall in Merchant Street back of the _Bulletin_ office.

Four lawyers who like one another, and like good living as well, have a
special table. Alexander Campbell, Milton Andros, George Sharp, and
Judge Dwinelle will stop first in the Clay Street Market, conveniently
opposite, and select the duck, fish, or English mutton-chops for the
da