at characterize the American
people, San Francisco lifted her head from the ashes, and, as Kipling
says, "turned her face home to the instant need of things."

Scorched and warped by days and nights of fire, the indomitable spirit
of the Golden Gate metropolis rose on pinions of hope, unsubdued and
unafraid.

Old San Francisco was an ash heap. From out the wreck and ruin there
should arise a new San Francisco that would at once be the pride of
the Pacific coast and the American nation and a proud monument to the
city that was.

Temporarily the commerce of the city was transferred to Oakland, with
its magnificent harbor across the bay, and at once a spirit of
friendly rivalry sprung up in the latter city. Oakland had been the
first haven of refuge for the fleeing thousands, but in the face of
the overwhelming disaster the sister city saw a grand opportunity to
enhance its own commercial importance.

But the spirit of San Francisco would brook no successful rivalry and
its leading men were united in a determination to rebuild a city
beautiful on the ashen site and to regain and re-establish its
commercial supremacy on the Pacific coast.

With the fire quenched, the hungry fed, some sort of shelter provided,
the next step was to prepare for the resumption of business and the
reconstruction of the city. Within ten days from the first outbreak
of flames the soldiers had begun to impress the passer-by into the
service of throwing bricks and other debris out of the street in order
to remove the stuff from the path of travel.

Some important personages were unceremoniously put to work by the
unbiased guards, among them being Secretary of State Charles Curry of
Sacramento.

The people of San Francisco turned their eyes to a new and greater
city. Visitors were overwhelmed with terror of the shaking of the
earth, they quailed at the thought of the fire. But the men who
crossed the arid plains, who went thirsty and hungry and braved the
Indian and faced hardships unflinchingly in their quest for gold over
two-thirds of a century ago had left behind them descendants who were
not cowards. Smoke was still rising from the debris of one building
while the owner was planning the erection of another and still better
one.

The disaster had made common cause, and the laboring man who before
was seeking to gouge from his employer and the employer who was
scheming to turn the tables on his employes felt the need of
co-operation an