It was in the late eighties that Julia Ward Howe visited her sister near the city, and I very gladly was of service in helping her fill some of her engagements. She gave much pleasure by lectures and talks and enjoyed visiting some of our attractions. She was charmed with the Broadway Grammar School, where Jean Parker had achieved such wonderful results with the foreign girls of the North Beach locality. I remember meeting a distinguished educator at a dinner, and I asked him if he had seen the school. He said he had. "What do you think of it?" I asked him. "I think it is the finest school in the world," he said. I took Mrs. Howe to a class. She was asked to say a few words, and in her beautiful voice she gained instant and warm attention. She asked all the little girls who spoke French in their homes to stand. Many rose. Then she called for Spanish. Many more stood. She followed with Scandinavian and Italian. But when she came to those who used English she found few. She spoke to several in their own tongue and was most enthusiastically greeted. I also escorted her across the bay to Mills College, with which she was greatly pleased. She proved herself a good sport. With true Bohemianism, she joined in luncheon on the ferryboat, eating ripe strawberries from the original package, using her fingers and enjoying the informality. She fitted every occasion with dignity or humor. In the pulpit at our church she preached a remarkably fine sermon.

Mozoomdar, the saintly representative of the Brahmo Somaj, was a highly attractive man. His voice was most musical, and his bearing and manner were beautiful. He seemed pure spirit and a type of the deeply religious nature. Nor was he without humor. In speaking of his visit to England he said that his hosts generally seemed to think that for food he required only "an unlimited quantity of milk."

Politics has had a wide range in San Francisco,—rotten at times, petty at others, with the saving grace of occasional idealism. The consolidation act and the People's Party touched high-water mark in reform. With the lopping off of the San Mateo end of the peninsula in 1856, one board of supervisors was substituted for the three that had spent $2,646,000 the year before. With E.W. Burr at its head, under the new board expenditures were reduced to $353,000. The People's Party had a long lease of power, but in 1876 McCoppin was elected mayor. Later came the reigns of little bosses, the specter of the big corporation boss behind them all, and then the triumph of decency under McNab, when good men served as supervisors. Then came the sinister triumph of Ruef and the days of graft, cut short by the amazing exposure, detection, and overthrow of entrenched wickedness, and the administration of Dr. Taylor, a high idealist, too good to last.

Early in 1904 twenty-five gentlemen (five of whom were members of the Chit-Chat Club) formed an association for the improvement and adornment of San Francisco. D.H. Burnham was invited to prepare a plan, and a bungalow was erected on a spur of Twin Peaks from which to study the problem. A year or more was given to the task, and in September, 1905, a comprehensive report was made and officially sanctioned, by vote and publication. To what extent it might have been followed but for the event of April, 1906, cannot be conjectured, but it is matter of deep regret that so little resulted from this very valuable study of a problem upon which the future of the city so vitally depends. It is not too late to follow its principal features, subject to such modifications as are necessary in the light of a good deal that we have accomplished since the report. San Francisco's possibilities for beauty are very great.

The earthquake and fire of April, 1906, many San Franciscans would gladly forget; but as they faced the fact, so they need not shrink from the memory. It was a never to be effaced experience of man's littleness and helplessness, leaving a changed consciousness and a new attitude. Being aroused from deep sleep to find the solid earth wrenched and shaken beneath you, structures displaced, chimneys shorn from their bases, water shut off, railway tracks distorted, and new shocks recurring, induces terror that no imagination can compass. After breakfasting on an egg cooked by the heat from an alcohol lamp, I went to rescue the little I could from my office, and saw the resistless approaching fire shortly consume it. Lack of provisions and scarcity of water drove me the next morning across the bay. Two days afterward, leaving my motherless children, I returned to bear a hand in relief and restoration. Every person going up Market Street stopped to throw a few bricks from the street to make possible a way for vehicles. For miles desolation reigned. In the unburned districts bread-lines marked the absolute leveling. Bankers and beggars were one. Very soon the mighty tide of relief set in, beginning with the near-by counties and extending to the ends of the earth.

Among our interesting experiences at Red Cross headquarters was the initiation of Dr. Devine into the habits of the earthquake. He had come from New York to our assistance. We were in session and J.S. Merrill was speaking. There came a decidedly sharp shake. An incipient "Oh!" from one of the ladies was smothered. Mr. Merrill kept steadily on. When he had concluded and the shock was over he turned to Dr. Devine and remarked: "Doctor, you look a little pale. I thought a moment ago you were thinking of going out." Dr. Devine wanly smiled as he replied: "You must excuse me. Remember that this is my first experience."

I think I never saw a little thing give so much pleasure as when a man who had been given an old coat that was sent from Mendocino County found in a pocket a quarter of a dollar that some sympathetic philanthropist had slipped in as a surprise. It seemed a fortune to one who had nothing. Perhaps a penniless mother who came in with her little girl was equally pleased when she found that some kind woman had sent in a doll that her girl could have. One of our best citizens, Frederick Dohrmann, was in Germany, his native land, at the time. He had taken his wife in pursuit of rest and health. They had received kindly entertainment from many friends, and decided to make some return by a California reception, at the town hostelry. They ordered a generous dinner. They thought of the usual wealth of flowers at a California party, and visiting a florist's display they bought his entire stock. The invited guests came in large numbers, and the host and hostess made every effort to emphasize their hospitality. But after they had gone Mr. Dohrmann remarked to his wife: "I somehow feel that the party has not been a success. The people did not seem to enjoy themselves as I thought they would." The next morning as they sought the breakfast-room they were asked if they had seen the morning papers. Ordering them they found staring head-lines: "San Francisco destroyed by an earthquake!" Their guests had seen the billboards on their way to the party, but could not utterly spoil the evening by mentioning it, yet were incapable of merriment. Mr. Dohrmann and his wife returned at once, and though far from well, he threw himself into the work of restoration, in which no one was more helpful. The dreadful event, however, revealed much good in human nature. Helpfulness in the presence of such devastation and suffering might be expected, but honor and integrity after the sharp call of sympathy was over have a deeper meaning. One of my best customers, the Bancroft-Whitney Company, law publishers, having accounts with lawyers and law-booksellers all over the country, lost not only all their stock and plates but all their books of accounts, and were left without any evidence of what was owing them. They knew that exclusive of accounts considered doubtful there was due them by customers other than those in San Francisco $175,000. Their only means of ascertaining the particulars was through those who owed it. They decided to make it wholly a matter of honor, and sent to the thirty-five thousand lawyers in the United States the following printed circular, which I printed at a hastily assembled temporary printing office across the bay:

To Our Friends and Patrons:
aWe have lost all our records of accounts.
bOur net loss will exceed $400,000.
SIMPLY A QUESTION OF HONOR.
FirstWill each lawyer in the country send us a statement of
what he owes us, whether due or not due, and names of books covered
by said statement on enclosed blank (blue blank).
SecondInformation for our records (yellow blank).
ThirdSend us a postal money order for all the money you can now
spare.
PLEASE FILL OUT AND SEND US AS SOON AS POSSIBLE THE FORMS ENCLOSED.
May 15, 1906.

Returns of money and of acknowledgment were prompt and encouraging. Some of those considered doubtful were the first to acknowledge their indebtedness. Before long they were able to reproduce their books and the acknowledged balances nearly equaled their estimated total of good accounts. Remittances were made until over $170,000 was paid. Of this amount about $25,000 covered accounts not included in their estimate of collectible indebtedness. This brought their estimated total to $200,000, and established the fact that over eighty-five per cent of all that was owed them was acknowledged promptly under this call on honor.

Four years later they were surprised by the receipt of a check for $250 from a lawyer in Florida for a bill incurred long before, of which they had no memory. Let those who scoff at ideals and bemoan the dishonesty of this materialistic age take note that money is not all, and let those who grudgingly admit that there are a few honest men but no honest lawyers take notice that even lawyers have some sense of honor.