The two drawbacks of this wonderful city are its variable climate and its possible earthquakes. A witty writer warns the intending tourist thus: “Be sure to bring your summer clothes. Let me repeat: be sure to bring your winter clothes.” To state the fact that in August one may see fur cloaks any day, and in January a June toilet is not uncommon, is but another way of stating that the galloping sea breeze, unimpeded by mountains, rushes in moist squadrons on the shore, and has all seasons for its own, in which to battle with the genial warmth of this most lovely climate. As to earthquakes, there have been but three since 1849, and these were insignificant calamities compared with one year of our domesticated western tornadoes. Less than fifty lives have been lost in California by earthquakes, thirty-seven of these occurring in the country outside of San Francisco, and less than a hundred thousand dollars worth of property has been destroyed, while two millions would not cover our loss by cyclone in a single year, to say nothing of the number of victims. Civilization seems to have a naturalizing effect on fleas, snakes and earthquakes, west of the Sierras, but acts as a tonic upon hurricanes east of the Rockies. Will our scientists please “rise to explain” this mystery so close in its relation to human weal and woe?
[To be continued.]
[TO MY BOOKS.]
By Lady STIRLING-MAXWELL.
Silent companions of the lonely hour,
Friends, who can never alter or forsake,
Who for inconstant roving have no power,