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—