San Francisco, which invents much American slang, must have provided
that phrase - "this man's town." For that is what San Francisco is - a
mans town.
I dare not appeal to Easterners; but Californiacs, I ask you how could I
forbear to say something about "the city"?
San Francisco, or "the city"', as Californians so proudly and lovingly
term her, is peculiarly fortunate in her situation and her weather.
Riding a series of hills as lightly as a ship the waves, she makes real
exercise of any walking within her limits. Moreover the streets are tied
so intimately and inextricably to seashore and country that San
Francisco's life is, in one sense, less like city life than that of any
other city in the United States. Yet by the curious paradox of her
climate, which compels much indoor night entertainment, reinforced by
that cosmopolitanism of atmosphere, life there is city life raised to
the highest limit. Last of all, its size - and personally I think there
should be a federal law forbidding cities to grow any bigger than San
Francisco - makes it an engaging combination of provincialism and
cosmopolitanism.
Not scenery this time, Reader, nor climate, but weather. Like scenery
and climate, it must be done.
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