style, which comes to us through Mexico from Spain. The Moors derived and developed their architecture from the early Byzantine, which grew out of the art of Rome and Greece and Persia. Suggestions of all of these styles of architecture one sees at San Diego.

The splendid church building, designed by Bertram G. Goodhue, of New York, dominates the entire exhibition. It is a perfect specimen of a Spanish Mission Cathedral, its dome and bell-tower inlaid with Spanish tile (made in San Diego). The Spectator, having learned the translation of the rather difficult Latin inscription that encircles the dome, is glad to pass it on. It is the eighth verse of the eighth chapter of Deuteronomy: "A land of wheat and barley, and vines and figtrees and pomegranates; a land of olive trees and honey." No text could be more appropriate.

It is almost a shock to find that this beautiful structure, perfect externally even to the bells in the open tower, is only the shell of a church, the interior containing sculptured monuments from Old Mexico and Central America. If one is interested in the ancient Maya City of Palenque, or the ancient Maya City of Quirigua, he may enjoy these rather grotesque columns and structures; but if, like the Spectator, he does not even know what a Maya city is, he will soon pass on to the out-of-door joys of the San Diego Exposition. You will spend very little time under a roof. You will sit before the Horticultural Building, by the pool which so delightfully suggests the pool at the Alhambra; or you will enjoy the out-of-doors organ concert, envying the people who can live in a climate where they dare to put a great church organ in the open. You will have your afternoon tea in a Japanese garden, overlooking a tiny pond, with its high, curved Japanese bridge, and its dwarf trees and stone monuments.

The ornamentation of the buildings is concentrated on the cornices, the doorways, and ⚫ the borders of the windows; an occasional richly ornamented Moorish balcony delighting the eye. The buildings themselves are of a uniform pale gray, enlivened by splendid masses of dark green shrubbery planted against their great plain surfaces, and by draperies-deep blue, pale green, golden orange-which hang from the windows, looped over balconies in Spanish fashion.

The guards, costumed in sky-blue uniforms trimmed with gold, add to the color effect. The roof tiles are in primitive colors, and everywhere there are flowers and flowering vines. The golden pipes of the great organ are framed in a temple of white, with vines and feathery trees on every side. And over all is the blue California sky.

Some exhibits you must not miss. See the Model Farm, a five-acre tract set out with all manner of fruits and nuts; in the center a charming home, with a great livingroom having a recessed fireplace with an ingle-nook; one ell containing two perfectly appointed bedrooms, bath-room, and an afternoon-tea porch; the other ell with diningroom, kitchen, a big china-closet, and a laundry. A small house for servants or for other uses is on one side of a vegetable garden at the back of the main house, with a garage or stable facing it; and in the rear is the most ideal chicken-run that the brain of man ever conceived-pergola effects and prettily planned fences. The buildings are all of cement. The house cost $3,900, its furnishings $2,500. All the buildings on the place were built for less than $8,000. The lawns and gardens and the transplanted orchards have been growing for two years, so that one gets an object-lesson of just what happens to growing things in that period of time in this balmy land.

Across the way from the Model Farm an experiment is being tried in tea-planting. Sir Thomas Lipton has sent over from Ceylon a number of tea-plants in charge of a native, and you will see the little bushes, protected from the sea winds by canvas screens, just beginning to shoot out their tiny green leaves.

The caretaker thinks that in a month he will be picking tea-leaves. If this experiment should mean the possibility of growing tea in Southern California, the San Diego Fair would be paid for.

grove or over the rich soil of what is to be a wheat-field. The story of National forest activities is told by the model of an idealized National forest. You can see just how the rain (real water) falling on the forested slope of a hill is absorbed by the protected soil and eventually comes out perfectly clear and with no opportunity for soil erosion. On a nearby bare slope the water rushes off the hardened surface, cuts away the soil, depositing its silt in the river channel and upon the farm in flood-time. In the exhibit is a fullsize model of one of the fire-lookout towers used in forestry protection.

The people love to loiter. No one hurries. Even the "electroquettes," big basket chairs holding three people, easily controlled by brake and steering handle, go at a pace which a year-old baby would consider slow. A great flock of pigeons has its home in the Plaza de Panama, and the birds perch on the visitors who feed them with seeds purchased from a gayly clad Mexican. When they are startled there is a vision of wings.

The California people seem to enjoy wearing badges booming something or otherorange-colored badges usually with black lettering telling of the county which they are celebrating. For in this mighty State counties mean almost what States mean with us back in the East. When you think that the northern boundary of California is as far from the southern boundary as New York is from Savannah, you begin to realize what a mighty province is this California.

B

Every fair must have its amusement section. San Diego's is called the Isthmus. The Spectator would not say anything against the shows which compose it, but he could not find one which from its outside led him to penetrate its inside. A very jarring feature of the Isthmus are posters which fill up the walls between the "concessions." One would hardly believe it possible, but here are scores of enormous cartoons exactly like those in certain of the Sunday newspapers-horrible things about "Mutt" and "Jeff" and others of their ilk. These are bad enough in the papers, but the effect when enlarged to eight by four feet is appalling!

and they will remain when the Fair is over, to form, with the gardens, one of the most superb parks that any city in the world can boast of Balboa Park they are to call it. It is already a remarkable city, this muchboomed San Diego, a "jumping-off place one might think from its location; but ninety thousand people are living in it and loving it. They have a marvelous high school, its buildings covering several acres. The Spectator has been staying at the U. S. Grant Hotel, which cost two million dollars and is as comfortable and well managed as any hotel in the country. It has a bivouac grill, where you hang up your hat on a bayonet, and its bell-boys are decorated with more gold cord than the old General ever wore.

You can make a trip to Mexico from San Diego, where, having bought and mailed a few picture post-cards, you return hurriedly to your native land. The most interesting place to visit is the Theosophical Institution at Point Loma, where there is a school of nearly three hundred pupils, living in buildings and surroundings of great beauty, all of the children happy and contented, and seeking to make the Brotherhood of Man a living power. This theosophical organization has been much criticised in the past, but it seems to have laid aside its occultism and mysticism and to have developed into a real force. Pupils from twenty-four countries are here. They have no vacations, but remain at Point Loma until they have finished their education, which may be, if they choose, a full university Much attention is paid to manual training. The Spectator was impressed by the character and the earnestness and simplicity of the members of the teaching force whom he met.

course.

The Spectator saw a beautiful ceremony in the Greek theater at Point Loma-a real Greek theater it was, like the one at Taormina, where the audience sits in a great half-circle and looks through the columns of the stage at the green hillsides and the breaking waves of the sea. One only needed Mount Etna in the distance to make the likeness to Taormina complete.

Up through the deep green shrubbery of the canyon at the side of the stage there came running a group of a dozen little girls clad in white flannel dresses, with long flowing white capes, behind them two older maidens with violins. The children tossed

their nosegays on the steps of the stage, ran to the open space in front, and danced a picture song, imitating the awakening of morn and the song of birds. Then they were joined by a dozen white-clad little boys, and all the children seated themselves in prettily arranged groups upon the steps of the theater, and gave a symposium of what their belief and instruction in theosophy meant to them. A little girl arose, and, raising her hands as if in invocation, cried three times, "Call them out, call them out, call them out!" And then from one and another of the chorus came the calling out of some helpful thought toward a good life. One was unselfishness, another honesty, and still another belief in the brotherhood of man. Then came a comment, "Yes, the brotherhood of man as taught by Christ." There were many "helps suggested. A little herald arose and called for the "stumblingblocks." Responses came quickly. One little fellow announced that "ignorance

was

a great stumbling-block on the road leading toward the perfect life. Another declared that" false education is even worse." Finally, the chorus united in a sort of doxology, giving thanks for the blessings and teachings of theosophy. And then the band of little children fluttered down the canyon, and the Spectator went to another part of the grounds and saw folk-dancing by a group of older children in brilliant Swedish peasant costumes. There

was chorus-singing, too-one song composed by the boy who led it, a song which he had written for and sung at the last Peace Conference at The Hague.

The effect of the whole entertainment (and it is a part of the regular work of the children, given daily, with variations, except on Sunday), in its setting of bright sunshine, beautiful shrubbery, and distant ocean, was most delightful and uplifting. The Spectator has seen many a Sunday-school play that was less effective and less religious. And this was a week-day celebration of the theosophists! Once more, as in many other lands, those immortal words were borne in upon him: "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

The Spectator is thankful for many things, and among them that he is not the VicePresident of the United States or other person high in authority. He has been trailing Vice-President Marshall through two fairs; and when he looks upon the silk-hatted, frock-coated city fathers (to say nothing of a troop of cavalry) who come forth to meet the Vice-President, he is glad to be able to climb into a hotel omnibus, unheralded and unattended, and to line up at the hotel counter and wait for his room like any other simple American citizen. And doubtless the Vice-President envies him the privilege.

The passing of the horse and the coming of the motor car will possibly be regretted by no one more than by the sculptor and the artist. When the war is over, how are they to immortalize the military hero without his "favorite horse"? Alexander, Napoleon, Wellington, Grant, Sherman, Lee, all were men of the horse and all are pictured or sculptured as centaurs. But Joffre, von Hindenburg, French, the Grand Duke Nicholas, and the Kaiser are automobile Can the sculptor or the artist make the automobile picturesque, like the "fiery steed "? The attempt will be waited with anxiety.

users.

In a contest for prizes offered by the "American Printer" for the best catalogue-cover page the same "copy was set in 463 different ways, "most of them good," by printers throughout the world. Four of the thirteen prizes were won by Massachusetts competitors, three by New York men, one each by printers in California, Illinois, Maryland, Pennsylvania, Georgia, and Iowa.

Adjoining the many facsimiles of these titlepages which the "American Printer" reprints may be found a title-page of B. Franklin's Catalogue of Books. The most striking difference between Franklin's typography and that of his successors is perhaps in the marked modesty with which the bookseller's name is presented in the older catalogue. Another difference is that Franklin's punctuation was minute to the last degree; while in the modern title-pages, probably without exception, the current fashion of omitting all punctuation marks at the end of the line is followed.

It is reported that British capitalists are planning to modernize Palestine if the Allies succeed in taking it from the Turks. Trolley lines and comfortable hotels are on the programme, and it is thought that the Zionist movement may receive a great impetus if an enlightened administration of the Holy Land is secured. The country under the new régime might afford a welcome refuge to thousands of Polish Jews whose homes have been destroyed during the conflict.

Seldom has a newspaper correspondent received a more complete "setting down" than in the case of a critic who abused the fair sex generally on the strength of a letter published in the New York "Evening Post" signed "Aunt Kate." At the end of the critic's wholesale attack on woman's "honor" because of Aunt Kate's alleged lack of it, the editor appended this brief reply: "The writer of the 'Aunt Kate' letter was a man."

While bread and all cereals have leaped in price, says a writer in the "Country Gentleman," potatoes are selling for just about half their price a year ago. The housekeeper who wishes

to take advantage of this fact and use potatoes more freely is recommended by the writer quoted to send to the Department of Agriculture at Washington for Farmers' Bulletins Nos. 256 and 295, which contain valuable suggestions for cooking potatoes in appetizing ways.

A Western court, according to " Law Notes," recently decided that when a woman wears a skirt so tight that it interferes with the free use of her limbs she cannot maintain an action for personal injury. The case was that of a woman who broke her ankle in alighting from a railway As fashion is seldom influenced by legal decisions, it is fortunate for the woman traveler that fuller skirts are "coming in."

car.

A writer of plays, an exchange relates, was reading a new work before a company of the French Society of Comedy, and presently was disturbed by the sight of one of the members fast asleep. The author stopped and reproved the sleeper. He was reading his play to the committee, he said, in order to obtain their opinion. How could a man who was asleep give an opinion? The somnolent critic rubbed his eyes and remarked, "Sleep is an opinion."

Some "interesting objects" that "Life" would like to see are these: "A railroad president being elected a member of the Don't Worry Club; a sign-painter who knows how to spell; a custom-house officer being presented on his birthday with a copy of Lord Chesterfield's letters; a spoiled child at a Mothers' Congress."

The Suez Canal traffic for 1914 did not suffer the diminution that might have been expected as a result of the war. In 1913 a total of 5,085 vessels passed through the Canal; in 1914 the number was 4,802. Of these vessels the vast majority were British; other nations in 1914 were represented in this order: German, Dutch, French, Austrian, Italian, Japanese, Russian, Danish, Greek, Swedish, Norwegian, Spanish, Turkish, Siamese, American, Persian.

Be careful where you leave your magnifyingglass! A house was nearly burned down in New York recently because some one had left a magnifying-glass leaning against a wicker sewing-basket. The glass caught the rays of the noon sun, focused them on the inflammable material in the basket, a blaze followed, and before the firemen put it out $800 damage had resulted.

"The moment you become conscious of goodness you cease to be good," is an aphorism ascribed by a contemporary to a Buddhist source. Another analogous bit of Eastern flotsam from the press is attributed to Laotze: "Shall I return good for evil? What then should I return for good? My son, deal justly with all, and so shalt thou prosper."