re not found
as soothing as the nightingales of San Remo; but one cannot have
everything. If you travel thousands of miles in the same car, and are
proud to reach home in the same palatial manner, the nuisances of the
depot are of minor importance, after all.

The huge wagons hung low near the ground, groaning under merchandise in
transit, and the splendid horses which drew them were worth looking at.
The ever-wakeful life of railroad men and their unceasing labors must
increase one's respect for that class of people, so strong, so active,
so intelligent, and so self-reliant, which garrison the fortresses and
outposts of trade all over the American continent. Such a life is a
training-ground for possible armies of another kind, which a touch on
the American flag, or on our national honor, could transform in a flash
into a formidable and reliable force in any emergency.

In my musings while in this busy place, my attention was called to a
flagman just opposite where our car was anchored. I explored his shanty
and had a good chat with him. His little place was bright without and
within. Outside were flowers and shrubs; within not a speck of dust was
to be seen. It was as shipshape as the best kind of a New England home,
having a place for everything, and everything in its place.

In the intervals of his labor, he had time for a quiet rest on an
improvised seat outside his cabin door. That seat attracted me. It was
like stone, but its peculiar shape told me it was a joint from the
vertebrae of a whale. It was just a piece of gigantic bric-a-brac, well
seasoned, which one might covet. I asked him what he would take for it.
"Oh," said he, "I could not sell that; it was here before I came, and
will remain after me." One could not but respect the sentiment which
would regard a tradition rather than pocket a possible dollar. I had
too much admiration for such fine feelings to offer to tempt the man
again with a new proposal.

A little later on in our stay, we all adjourned to the Palace Hotel, an
enormous hostelry which was once the wonder of the continent, and yet
has, with its huge interior glass court, a certain air about it quite
magnificent.

From there we made excursions to some of the stock sights of the place.
We went out to the Seal Rocks and saw the Pacific breakers dash up on
the huge crags, where the seals, or sea-lions rather, for they are not
true seals, mowed and roared and tumbled over each other in their