And the starlight likes to look and laugh in Cupid-haunted bowers.
Oh the restful, peaceful evenings! In them my soul delights,
For God loved California when He gave to her her nights.

ALFRED JAMES WATERHOUSE,
in _Some Homely Little Songs._

FEBRUARY 2.

There it lay, a constellation of lights, a golden radiance dimmed by
the distance. San Francisco the Impossible. The City of Miracles! Of
it and its people many stories have been told, and many shall be; but
a thousand tales shall not exhaust its treasury of romance. Earthquake
and fire shall not change it, terror and suffering shall not break its
glad, mad spirit. Time alone can tame the town, restrain its wanton
manners, refine its terrible beauty, rob it of its nameless charm,
subdue it to the commonplace. May time be merciful--may it delay its
fatal duty till we have learned that to love, to forgive, to enjoy, is
but to understand!

GELETT BURGESS,
in _The Heart Line._

FEBRUARY 3.

INCONSTANCY.

The bold West Wind loved a crimson Rose.
West winds do.
This dainty secret he never had told.
He thought she knew.
But there were poppies to be caressed--
When he returned from his fickle quest,
He found _his_ Rose on another's breast.
Alas! Untrue!

IDA MANSFIELD-WILSON.

FEBRUARY 4.

THE FIRST FLAG RAISING IN CALIFORNIA.

In February, 1829 the ship Brookline of Boston arrived at San Diego.
The mate, James P. Arthur, was left at Point Loma, with a small party
to cure hides, while the vessel went up the coast. To attract passing
ships Arthur and one of his men, Greene, concluded to make and raise a
flag. This was done by using Greene's cotton shirt for the white and
Arthur's woolen shirts for the red and blue. With patient effort they
cut the stars and stripes with their knives, and sewed them together
with sail needles. A small tree lashed to their hut made a flag-pole.
A day or two later a schooner came in sight, and up went the flag.
This was on Point Loma, on the same spot, possibly, hallowed by the
graves of the seventy-five men who lost their lives in the Bennington
explosion, July 21, 1905.

MAJOR W.J. HANDY.

FEBRUARY 5.

Live for to-day--nor pause to fear
Of what To-morrow's sun may bring!
To-day has hours of hope and cheer.
To-day your songs of joy should ring.
The Yesterdays are dead and gone
Adown the long, uneven way;
But Hope is smiling with the dawn--