He did so, changing its politics at once, and furnishing funny articles which later appeared as "Phoenixiana," and ranked him with Artemus Ward as a genuine American humorist.

Here is his closing paragraph after those preposterous somersaults and daring pranks as editor _pro tem_: "Very little news will be found in the _Herald_ this week; the fact is, there never is much news in it, and it is very well that it is so; the climate here is so delightful that residents in the enjoyment of their _dolce far niente_ care very little about what is going on elsewhere, and residents of other places care very little about what is going on in San Diego, so all parties are likely to be gratified with the little paper, 'and long may it wave.'" The present city has eighteen thousand inhabitants, twenty-three church organizations, remarkably fine schools, a handsome opera-house, broad asphalt pavements, electric lights, electric and cable cars,--a compact, well-built city, from the fine homes on the Heights to the business portion near the water.
In regard to society, I find that the "best society" is much the same all over the civilized world.

Accomplished, cultured, well-bred men and women are found in every town and city in California.

And distance from metropolitan privileges makes people more independent, better able to entertain themselves and their guests, more eagerly appreciative of the best in every direction.
"O city reflecting thy might from the sea, There is grandeur and power in the future for thee, Whose flower-broidered garments the soft billows lave, Thy brow on the hillside, thy feet in the wave." Many of San Diego's guests have no idea of her at her best.

The majority of winter tourists leave California just as Mother Nature braces up to do her best with wild-flowers, blossoming orchards, and waving grain-fields.