imagine himself transported to a sunny hillside in Italy, for here he
hears no other language than that which came from the shores of the
Mediterranean. Here are Italians of all ages, sexes and conditions of
servitude, from the padrone to the bootblack who works for a pittance
until he obtains enough to start himself in business. If one investigate
closely it will be found that many of the people of this part of San
Francisco have been here for years and still understand no other
language than that of their native home. Why should they learn anything
else, they say. Everybody around them, and with whom they come in
contact speaks Italian. Here are the Corsicans, with their peculiar
ideas of the vendetta and the cheapness of life in general, and the
Sicilians and Genoese and Milanese. Here are some from the slopes of
Vesuvius or Aetna, with inborn knowledge of the grape and of wine
making. All have brought with them recipes and traditions, some dating
back for hundreds of years, or even thousands, to the days before the
Christian Era was born. It is just the same to them as it was across the
ocean, for they hear the same dialect and have the same customs. Do they
desire any special delicacy from their home district, they need but go
to the nearest Italian grocery store and get it, for these stores are
supplied direct from Genoa or Naples. This is the reason that many of
the older men and women still speak the soft dialect of their native
communities, and if you are so unfortunate as not to be able to
understand them, then it is you who are the loser.

Do you wish to know something about conditions in Mexico? Would you like
to learn what the Mexicans themselves really think about affairs down in
that disturbed republic? Go along Broadway west of Grant avenue, and
then around the corner on Stockton, and you will see strange signs, and
perhaps you will not know that "Fonda" means restaurant, or that
"Tienda," means a store. But these are the signs you will see, and when