over the world are those who dominate it.

History shows that every three hundred years a great city arises at some
very necessary and strategic point on the international highway. Such an
inevitable world city is San Francisco. Whether it is the ragged slope
of Telegraph Hill, the heights of Twin Peaks, the rolling green-brown
softness of the Potrero bluffs, or the contours of any of the other high
places that confront the visitor approaching from the Bay, the hills of
San Francisco arrest the eye and intrigue the imagination.

To the visitor who would comprehend almost at a glance the cycloramic
setting of San Francisco the way is easy of access to half a dozen
peaks. There are good automobile roads to all of them.

Let him for a start go to Nob Hill, crossed by California street, where
the Fairmont Hotel, the Pacific Union Club, Grace Cathedral and many
distinctive residences and apartments will engage his attention when it
is not occupied with the shipping in the harbor, Goat and Alcatraz
islands, and the animated perspectives inside the Golden Gate.

Russian Hill, of which Nob Hill is a southward shoulder, is the habitat
of many of the writer and painter folk of San Francisco. It affords
superb panoramas of the city and bay. So does Telegraph Hill, whose
sides have been scarred to provide rock for the sea wall along which the
modern argosies of commerce discharge their cargoes. Views northwesterly
from these hilltops suggest the Bay of Naples.

The most comprehensive close-up of the city is probably obtained from
the crest of Buena Vista Park, which is not the highest of the fourteen
good-sized hills in San Francisco but the one from which the most