In this cañon we find that pest of nature-lovers who are susceptible to it, the poison oak. For all its sinister effects, it is a charming shrub so far as appearance goes, with its bright, glossy serrated leaves; but do not invite a too familiar acquaintance, for it is a shrub to be admired at a distance.

SUNSHINE AND SHADOW

At a path that seems quite accessible we climb out of the cañon, and strike out across the hills. We stop for a moment's rest at a fence, and while we are filling our lungs with the crisp morning air we see where a spider has industriously spun his web during the night, from a stalk of ragweed to the fence corner. The dew has settled upon it and each silken thread stands out perfectly, shining in the morning sunshine like some old jewelry made of filagree silver. You little realize, you tiny spinner of silken fabrics, how easily your gauzy structure may be broken, and all your work come to naught; for on the fence a catbird, scolding incessantly, has one eye open for a stray titbit in the shape of a little weaver of webs, and you may help to make him an early breakfast.

The meadow larks are sending out their cheery "Spring o' the year" from fence rail and covert, a song most sweet and inspiring. A flock of blackbirds goes sailing past, and high overhead a killdee's plaintive cry echoes over the valley. From here we get a beautiful view of the bay and the Golden Gate, and in the far distance the dome of Mount Tamalpais rises above the clouds.

The ferryboats from Oakland, Berkeley, Alameda, and Sausalito are plying their ceaseless traffic from mole to mole. White-sailed ships from foreign countries, outward bound with the tide, conveyed by little bustling tugs, look like monster white-winged gulls; and