WHAT THE CLUB IS TRYING TO PREVENT.

casting grotesque shadows on the landscape; and these are but a few of the beauties garnered here.
   The road which is known as "the crookedest in the world," turns innumerable sharp curves, finally twisting into a double bow-knot and, extricating itself, continues winding its way up, stopping a few moments at West Point, where passengers for Bolinas take the stage.
   Arriving at the railroad's destination, the Tavern, the passengers alight to luncheon in its well- appointed dining-room, or lounge on the spacious veranda, enjoying at ease the superb views revealed below.
   But if the traveller be something of a pedestrian he will take the zigzag, cleated steps which lead from the Tavern to the top.

THE MOUNTAIN TRAIN.

   But this is not the only walk on the Mountain. Many trails wind about its sides disclosing shady nooks, a delightful cool spring and countless other surprises, which are easily reached owing to the guidance of artistic little signs which appear at short distances apart, while location rods are placed at intervals on the path circling the Mountain, enabling the visitor to find the various points of interest without any difficulty.

THROUGH THE REDWOODS.

   A few hundred feet from the Tavern is located a Government Weather Bureau, and in its proximity is to be placed the seismo-graph now being made in Strasburg, Germany,

TURNING INNUMERABLE CURVES.

by order of the Weather Bureau Department in Washington. The instrument is said to be on a more elaborate plan than any in this country except the one in Washington, D. C., of which this will be a counterpart. Some time is required for its completion, so, presumably it will not be installed and ready to receive earthquakes until early next year.
   Descending the mountain on the train to West Point, we alighted and after lunching at the Inn, mounted the stage which was bound for Bolinas.
   The air on these mountain slopes is most exhilarating, and as we sped along down the gradually descending roadway, the breath of azaleas was wafted on the breeze from the canyons, while at each bend of the road the salt zephyrs from the Ocean became more perceptible.
   Leaving the Monarch of Marin we soon came in sight of the white sand-spit with Dipsea, the new resort on the beach.