Los Angeles herald., 1906-04-25

You went in Hacquette's Palace of
Art.
Waiter, a stein of beer"
If you were new to San Francisco
you remembered the statement that
here one could live cheaper or more
eXpensively than in any place i'm Amer
lea. And You recalled the shabby, gem
teel citizen at the hotel who forced an
acquaintance and confided thickly that
"he would not take S15 week for his
free lunch route" You would think of
this a second time when the waiter
came with your stein and set on the
table with it all manner of relishing
dishes-really a feast-and asked if
you would like black coffee to top it
off with. You demanded your bill.
'"ren cents"
The feeling that maybe shabby gem
tility was contagious oppressed you
only for moment. Where did it come
trom-the splendor on the walls? A
champagne cork answered. At the
next table were the beautiful women
of San Francisco.
They were beautiful Most of them
large-such large forms you don't see
every day-unless you stay in Frisco.
All of them with exquisite skins-where
the paint was not obtrusive. None of
them with prophetically white faces
and tear-stained eyes Yes, there was
where the money came from. or from
the men with them, the business men
of the Golden West, not very impress
sive looking, rather subdued and incon-
sequential in the shadow of the women.
A card on a painting by Rosa Bon
heur told you it was valued at 100000
(They did such things in Frisco) A
genuine Murillo was on the opposite
wall Crowded thick were other famous
paintings. statues by artists stood in
inches. There were cabinets of massive
silver and ivory carvings.
Over the bar the painting of nearly
nude figure attracted you. The wom-
ans eyes were appealing. They looked
across the room of living, joyous men
and women. Your eyes followed them
instictively to the opposite picture An
eminently respectable man. The beard
almost golden fringing placid, pink
face. You asked what it meant. THE
banker Ralston and his first wife" was
the answer.
And then you heard a story of old
San Francisco that all the San Fran
cisco. of late yesterday remembered
and talked about He was the first
financier of the early days who worked
for the miracle that came when the
great roaring, bustling city of two con-
tinents arose from the mists of the
sea And the woman had sent him tho
painting when, an outcast in Paris,
she heard of the bankers disgrace and
ruin.
The fog from the bay made you
shiver as you left the warmth and
splendor of a 10-cent carouse. But it
could only dim the long clusters of light
upon the thoroughfares. 1t could not
muff1e the sounds of music and laugh
ter from the myriad of happy places.
1t held no dampness for the care-free
throng of gorgeous women in the
streets.
Kearney street in the heart of the
stricken district of San Francisco, was
said to be the most cosmopolitan thor
oughfare in the world. Its beginning
was at Market street and it's end in
the bay, over a ragged cliff the dump
ing place for old iron.
1t started with smooth pavements,
ran into board walks and terminated
on soil so rough that even the goats,
as numerous as in Hoboken, found diff
Guilty in their meanderings. It's mile
and a half of length harbored every
business and every degree of business,
and all races walked there and dWelt
in it's houses. Italians, Grecians, Chi
nese, Japanese, Filipinos, Malays,
Arabs, a few Americans, French, Ger
mans, all were to be met in Kearney
street.
There were offices that sheltered mill
lionaires; princes of commerce were
building fortunes there, and where it
tapped the hill beggars and peddlers
haggled with housewives over a slice
of fish or a handful of onions.
Carriages rolled along half it's length;
trolley cars hummed along until they
reached the hill-Telegraph hill-and
| there they stopped. People climbed the
remainder of the way on cleats in the
walk You saw every form of worship