to pay their passage to the
States. Good-night!"

HOW REUBEN ALLEN "SAW LIFE" IN SAN FRANCISCO

The junior partner of the firm of Sparlow & Kane, "Druggists and
Apothecaries," of San Francisco, was gazing meditatively out of the
corner of the window of their little shop in Dupont Street. He could see
the dimly lit perspective of the narrow thoroughfare fade off into the
level sand wastes of Market Street on the one side, and plunge into the
half-excavated bulk of Telegraph Hill on the other. He could see the
glow and hear the rumble of Montgomery Street--the great central avenue
farther down the hill. Above the housetops was spread the warm blanket
of sea-fog under which the city was regularly laid to sleep every
summer night to the cool lullaby of the Northwest Trades. It was already
half-past eleven; footsteps on the wooden pavement were getting rarer
and more remote; the last cart had rumbled by; the shutters were up
along the street; the glare of his own red and blue jars was the only
beacon left to guide the wayfarers. Ordinarily he would have been going
home at this hour, when his partner, who occupied the surgery and a
small bedroom at the rear of the shop, always returned to relieve him.
That night, however, a professional visit would detain the "Doctor"
until half-past twelve. There was still an hour to wait. He felt drowsy;
the mysterious incense of the shop, that combined essence of drugs,
spice, scented soap, and orris root--which always reminded him of the
Arabian Nights--was affecting him. He yawned, and then, turning away,
passed behind the counter, took down a jar labeled "Glycyrr. Glabra,"
selected a piece of Spanish licorice, and meditatively sucked it.
Not receiving from it that diversion and sustenance he apparently was
seeking, he also visited, in an equally familiar manner, a jar marked
"Jujubes," and returned ruminatingly to his previous position.

If I have not in this incident sufficiently established the youthfulness
of the junior partner, I may add briefly that he was just nineteen, that
he had early joined the emigration to California, and after one or two
previous light-hearted essays at other occupations, for which he was
singularly unfitted, he had saved enough to embark on his present
venture, still less suited to his temperament. In those adventurous days
trades and vocations were not always filled by trained workmen; it was
extremely probable that the experienced chemist was