We must also tell of the happy Chinese laundryman whom we interviewed under the light of the moon, the very picture of placid, contented comfort, as he smoked a huge pipe with stem two feet long. Poor soul, all in his loneliness, coming out from his little hole for a breath of fresh air and a touch of that great nature which is ever so good to us all if we will but let it. Our Chinaman told us that his pipestem was especially valuable, that it had the excellent quality of making the smoke cool, and that such stems, being made of the tea shrub, were very rare. One of our number next morning wished to purchase the said pipestem from "John," but he refused all offers, saying he would not give it for fifty dollars. XIII San Francisco.--Bustling Traffic.--Railroad Employees.--The Flagman.--The Palace Hotel.--The Seal Rocks.--Sutro Residence and Baths.--The Presidio.--Sentinels.--Golden Gate Park.--The Memorial Cross.--San Francisco and Edinburgh Compared.--The Cable Cars.-- Chinatown.--The Opium Den.--The Goldsmiths' Shops.--Across the Bay to Tiburon.--The Bohemian Club. In San Francisco we had a couple of full days and fragments of two others, all too short to fully take in the wonders of that romantic city, so bizarre, so strange, and in its way so attractive. After coming across the Bay from Oakland, we found ourselves in the midst of the noise and bustle of the railroad yards, fronting on a street crowded with teams and wagons from morning until night; and in the night, the ever-resounding snorts of the iron horse were not found as soothing as the nightingales of San Remo; but one cannot have everything. If you travel thousands of miles in the same car, and are proud to reach home in the same palatial manner, the nuisances of the depot are of minor importance, after all. The huge wagons hung low near the ground, groaning under merchandise in transit, and the splendid horses which drew them were worth looking at. The ever-wakeful life of railroad men and their unceasing labors must increase one's respect for that class of people, so strong, so active, so intelligent, and so self-reliant, which garrison the fortresses and outposts of trade all over the American continent. Such a life is a training-ground for possible armies of another kind, which a touch on the American flag, or on our national honor, could transform in a flash into a formidable and reliable force in any emergency. In my musings while in this busy place, my attention was called to a flagman just opposite where our car was anchored. I explored his shanty and had a good chat with him. His little place was bright without and within. Outside were flowers and shrubs; within not a speck of dust was to be seen. It was as shipshape as the best kind of a New England home, having a place for everything, and everything in its place.