To Florida or bust! That is the slogan of the tourists, streaming southward in a modern gold rush to Florida, which buries the famous rush of California in ’49 into oblivion. Southward the gas-pulled caravans make their way. South of winter’s icy domain to the balmy climate of Florida, is the destination of the tourists. Like birds of passage, these motoring robins head in the general direction of the Antarctic circle. Vehicles of every description compose the strange procession which is thronging on pneumatic tires to that wonderful land, so rich in wealth and ground. Everyone, from a tramp to a millionaire bank-president, composes the variegated traffic of tourists, which congests the main highways and floods the villages with legions of people bent on the purpose of enriching their coffers.