nd twisted iron
girders.

The San Francisco man found a tottering, blackened pile of wall that
he said was Mechanic's Pavilion, and a sort of thin peak of brick that
he said was the new Bell Theater. He would go over the town from the
top of the hill and torture himself trying to locate San Francisco's
splendid landmarks in these acres of ash heaps.

Down in the middle of the city I found two young men in a violent
argument over the location of Market street in the ashes.

At the pretty little park, Fell and Steiner streets, we came upon one
of the strange little cities of refugees. I should pronounce this one
of the most select residence districts of San Francisco now. It is the
only home of hundreds upon hundreds of once well-to-do San Francisco
people now ruined.

It was heart-rending to see the women tidying things up and trying to
invent new ideas for attractive homes--trying to make their homes
look better than their neighbors', just as they did before.

Some women made odd little bowers of two blankets and a sheet tent.

I passed one tent where a young mother was lying at ease with her
little girl, under a parasol. Just as I was going by, the little girl
demanded "another." The mother laughed happily and began, "Well, once
upon a time----"

As though one of the stories of all the ages was not going on down the
hill below her!

To one of the groups on the lawn came a young man grinning all over
and positively swaggering. He was received with shrieks of joy. He had
six cans of sardines. He brought them to people who would have been
insulted at the idea two days ago.

The San Francisco man invited me into his house, where we saw the
wreck of his cut glass and library. But he forgot it all over a rare
piece of good fortune that had befallen. The maid had managed to get a
whole tea kettle of water. It was vile and muddy; but it was water.

The young tailor told me that he had gone from daylight until 11:30,
parching for a drink. The saloons were closed by order of Gen.
Funston, but he managed to get beer from a saloon man.

In some parts of the city there is plenty of water. But I saw people
rushing eagerly with buckets to catch the water out of gutters where
it had leaked from a fire hose. In the first terrible water famine,
the firemen broke into sewers and threw sewer water on the fires.

The dramatic moments came as one neighborhood after another was told
to pack up and move out. It was the sounding