his pleasure might be, I could not tell.

We hesitated about taking him, considering his very stunted appearance;
but he said, "Me heap smart," and that settled it. "Heap" must be a word
the Chinese have picked up at the mines. It is in constant requisition
in any attempt to converse with them.

Last night we had a heavy shock of earthquake. How different it is from
merely reading that the crust of the earth is thin, and that there is
fire under it, to feel it tremble under your feet! I was glad to have
one thing more made real to me, that before meant nothing. It was a
strange, deep trembling, as if every thing were sliding away from us.

NOVEMBER 18, 1875.

It gives one a lonesome feeling to see how many people here lead
unsettled lives, looking upon some other place as their home. Even the
children, hearing so much talk about the East, seem to have an idea that
they really belong somewhere else. One of our little neighbors said to
me, "I have never been home;" although she, and all her grown-up
brothers and sisters, were born and brought up here. Many of the customs
of the place are adapted to a temporary way of living. In most parts of
the city, it would be hard to find a street without signs of "Furnished
rooms to let." Besides innumerable restaurants, a flying kitchen travels
about, with every thing cooking as it goes along, and clean-looking men,
with white aprons, to serve the food; one ringing a bell, and looking
out in every direction, to see what is wanted.

The numerous windmills, for raising water, give the city a lively look.
The wind keeps them always in motion. The constant whirring of the
wheels, and the general breezy look of things, distinguish this place
from all others that I have seen. Sir Francis Drake, entering the bay
nearly three hundred years ago, refers, with great delight, to "a franke
wind," that took him "into a safe and good baye." There was, for a long
time, some doubt as to which of several ports he made. I think that
mention of the wind settles it. The identical wind has been blowing with
undiminished vigor ever since. In summer (the time he was here), it will
carry a vessel in against the strongest tide.

The city is built mostly of wood. The absence of foliage, and the
neutral color of the houses, give the streets a dull gray look, here and
there redeemed by the scarlet geranium, which, if not a native, is most
thoroughly naturalized,--it grows so sturdily, even in the poor