awkward progress on the cliffs. We saw them also in their element,
darting gracefully through the waves. We saw Sutro's Baths near by, a
huge structure with splendid accommodation for bathers. We saw also the
grounds and residence of Sutro, the rich man who built those baths at
his own expense, and for the benefit of the people. The grounds of the
residence were filled with statues and ornamental sculptures, too
lavish for good taste; but, let us admit, at least, that the intention
to thus decorate was certainly good. We also saw the Presidio, or army
station, and were severely, but most politely, warned off from certain
points by armed and mounted sentries. It was a little touch of the war
spirit and order, not displeasing. The sentry with whom we parleyed
was a type of the American soldier, self-reliant, unconventional,
intelligent, and polite. When one looks at such men, they see the new
ideas which have discarded forever the millinery of military life.
There are no more restraining straps and buckles; no more pipeclay; no
more propping up, like trussed fowls, of chest and shoulders; but all
is free, natural, and unrestrained.

We drove out over the bare sand hills, which myriads of lupins of
various shades of purple and yellow, were doing their best to clothe
and glorify. We came to Golden Gate Park in our drive, and thoroughly
enjoyed its extent, the glory of its trees and strange shrubs, and,
among other sculptures, the splendid monument to Francis Key, the
author of the "Star Spangled Banner." From the park, we could see the
surrounding mountains, and on their slopes the distant buildings of
various educational institutions, of splendid proportions.

The great stone cross, commemorative of the first religious services
held on the Pacific Coast in the time of Sir Francis Drake, loomed up
grandly at some distance from us, but we could not get our Jehu to
drive us to it; there was always some excuse at hand. The late George
William Childs, of Philadelphia, caused its erection, to commemorate
these first services of the Church of England; but a cunning myth is
circulated in San Francisco that it is an advertisement for a stone
quarry!

San Francisco, situated as it is, on a series of precipitous hills,
presents some magnificent and picturesque views. It is a sort of
gigantic and altogether exaggerated Edinburgh. When one thinks of
Edinburgh, however, with its castled crag and Holyrood, and the gardens
right throug