He held himself
slightly aloof with the class consciousness of the West Pointer.
Nearby stood a lanky surgeon of the volunteers discussing antiseptics
with Dr. Jones. Leidesdorff was everywhere, pathetically eager to
please, an ecstatic, perspiring figure, making innumerable inquiries as
to the comfort of his guests.
"He's like a mother hen worried over a brood of new chicks," said
Brannan to Jasper O'Farrell.
"And a damned fine little man," the Irishman answered. "Oh--I beg your
pardon, Senorita."
Inez Windham smiled forgiveness, nodding when he asked her for a dance.
"Tell me," she asked eagerly, "of the grand new map you make for San
Francisco."
"Ah," O'Farrell said, "they laugh at it because I have to change
Vioget's acute and obtuse angles. They call it 'O'Farrell's Swing.' You
see, I've had to change the direction of some streets. There are many
more now. Eight hundred acres laid out like a city."
As the music stopped he led her to a bench and fumbled in his pocket for
a drawing which he straightened on his knees. "See, here is a new road
through the center, a broad way, straight as an arrow from the bay to
the foot of Twin Peaks. It parallels the Mission camino, and Bryant
wants to call it Market street.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93