rst house in
commercial San Francisco stood here. It was only a sail stretched around
four pine posts, but two years later was replaced by a picturesque,
red-tiled adobe, so commodious that the Spaniards called it the Casa
Grande. I am afraid the building now occupying the spot where the second
house stood will be equally disappointing," I said ruefully, as we
recrossed the street to where a Chinese butcher and vegetable vender was
displaying his wares. We gazed curiously at the dangling pieces of dried
fish, strings of sausage-like meat, unfamiliar vegetables, lichee nuts
and sticks of green sugar cane.

"Somewhat different from the silks, satins and laces displayed on this
spot by Jacob Leese in Spanish days," I reflected. "He was a Bostonian,
who like Richardson had become an adopted son of California and settled
at Yerba Buena for the purpose of trading with the American vessels."

"This must have been a lively business center." The man raised his voice
above the rumble of the wagons and cars. "Two little houses in the midst
of a sea of sand-dunes and no settlement nearer than the Mission."

"Oh, it didn't take the American long to make things hum," I assured
him. "He arrived here on July second. Two days later he had built a
house and was entertaining all the Spaniards from miles around, at a
grand Fourth of July celebration."

"Quick work even for a Yankee," laughed my companion. "But rather hard
on his English neighbor, I should think. Did Richardson attend?"

"Of course he did! Delivered the invitations, too! Leese was busy
building his house, so the Englishman, in his little launch, called at
all the ranchos and settlements about the bay and invited the Spaniards
to come to Yerba Buena for a Fourth of July fandango."

We retraced our steps and a few doors beyond entered the gay, balconied
restaurant, in quest of a cup of tea served in Oriental style. Climbing
the steep stairs, we passed the first floor where laborers were being
served with steaming bowls of rice; then mounted to the more
aristocratic level where we were seated at elaborately carved teakwood
tables, inlaid with mother-of-pearl. While waiting for our tea, we
stepped onto the balcony which we had regarded with so much interest
from the street. Above us hung the gorgeous lanterns, swaying like
bright bubbles in the breeze, and below moved the silent blue-coated
throng.

"So there was a Fourth of July celebration here even in Spanish times?"