conversed briefly as the
time would permit, in the old language of Homer and Plato, which all
patriotic Greeks love. He asked me if I was a Papa, and was pleased
when I said, "Yes." I introduced him to my companions in the coach,
and he greeted them warmly; and as the train began to move on we bade
each other farewell. We may never meet again, but the Cross of Saint
Andrew was a bond between us, and we felt that we were brethren in
one Lord, Saint Andrew's Divine Master and ours. So the sight of that
Cross there by the Pacific, with all its history of faith and love and
martyrdom, caused our hearts to beat in unison with our brethren by
the Golden Gate. I thought then it would be a special advantage to
strangers in strange cities, if in some way the Brotherhood could
serve as a Bureau of Information to travellers, who understand the
meaning of the Cross. It would not be a matter of large expense after
all if Chapters in large centres would extend greeting to men and
women who are journeying hither and thither and who often stand in
need of just such services as the Brotherhood could give. In a few
hours after our arrival we were ready for the opening service of the
General Convention, in Trinity Church, on Gough street at the corner
of Bush street.

At intervals when duty would permit we made a study of San Francisco
and its life, rich in scene and incident, and most instructive as well
as attractive. Some of the noticeable features of the city are its
parks and squares. In the northern part or section, Washington and
Lobos Squares greet you, while Pioneer Park adorns Telegraph Hill,
and Portsmouth Square or the Plaza is just east of the famous Chinese
restaurant and close by police headquarters. This last was famous in
the early days as the centre of Yerba Buena, and here the American
flag was raised for the first time when our marines under Commodore
Montgomery took possession of the town. Indeed some of the most
exciting scenes in the early history of San Francisco were witnessed
in this locality. Volumes might be written about its Spanish and
Mexican families, its adobe buildings, its gambling places, its haunts
of vice, its public assemblies, its crowds of men from all lands, its
social and civic histories.

But all this is of the past, and it seems like a dream of by-gone
days. When I visited it on two occasions, in company with friends, it
was a quiet place enough; and the casual observer could never have
tho