he was walking on Market street, near the Emporium,
about 9 a. m., when a severe shock was felt. At once the street filled
again with excited persons, and thousands were soon gathered in the
vicinity, paralyzed with fear. Before the spectators could realize
what had happened, the walls of the building swayed a distance of
three feet. The thousands of bystanders stood as if paralyzed,
expecting every moment that they would be crushed, but another tremor
seemed to restore the big building to its natural position.

Mr. Anthony said that he momentarily expected that, with thousands of
others who were in the neighborhood, he would be crushed to death in a
few moments. He made his way down Market street as far as the Call
building, from which flames were issuing at every window, with the
blaze shooting through the roof. A similar condition prevailed in the
Examiner building, across the street.

He then started for the depot, at Third and Townsend streets,
determined to leave the city. He found a procession of several
thousand other persons headed in the same direction.

All south of Market street about that time was a crackling mass of
flames. Mr. Anthony made his way to Eighth and Market, thence down
Eighth to Townsend and to Third street, and the entire section which
he traversed was afire, making it impossible for him to reach his
destination. He attempted to back track, but found that his retreat
had been cut off by the flames. He then went to Twelfth street and
reached Market again by the city hall. San Francisco's magnificent
municipal building had concaved like an egg shell. The steel dome was
still standing, but the rest of the $3,000,000 structure was a mass of
charred ruins.

It was not yet noon, but the city's hospitals were already filled with
dead and injured, and all available storerooms were being pressed into
service. Dead bodies were being carried from the streets in garbage
wagons. In every direction hysterical women were seen. Men walked
through the streets, weeping, and others wore blanched faces. Transfer
men were being offered fabulous sums to remove household goods, even
for a block distant. Horses had been turned loose and were running at
large to prevent their being incinerated in the burning buildings.
Women had loaded their personal belongings on carts and were pulling
them through the city, the property being huddled in the public
squares.

"The Grand Hotel tossed like a ship at sea. There w