"NOT AT HOME" BY HATl IE HORNER LC^UTH^N " / grant to tJie king his reign. Let us yield him homage due, But over the land there are twain, O King : I must reign with you. ■' I grant to the wise his r.ieed, But his yoke I ivill not brook. For God taught me to read,— He lent vie the World for a book,' NEW YORK JOHN B. ALDEN, PUBLISHER 1889 Copyright, 1889, BY HATTIE HORNEE. CONTENTS. I.— LETTEES FROM WISCONSIN. A First Venture from the State .... 9 National Educational Association in Session - - 12 Impressions of a Pretty Northern City— A Lake Excursion 14 Educational Exhibits — Woman's Meeting — Governor Rusk's Reception - - - - - 18 -Last Meeting of N. E. A.—" Three Words " from Each State 22 IL— LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. " From Land of Snow to Land of Sun " - - 31 A Bird Store— High Mass at Old St. Louis Cathedral - 38 Morning in Old French Market - - - - 44 Destruction of Pompeii— An Out-door Drama - - 49 Cemeteries of the City - - - - - 54 An Early Breakfast — Sunday in New Orleans - - 56 The World's Fair— Main Building and Horticultural Hall - 60 The State Displays— Woman's Department - - 65 Art Hall 70 United States Mint— Slaughter House ... 76 Scene at the Levee — Departure of the " Natchez " - - 81 Carrolton and the West End— More Cemeteries - - 89 Visit to Custom House and Sub-Treasury Department— A Bird's-Eye View of New Orleans - - - 94 A "Formal Call" 98 A Scrap Letter 102 Moody and Sankey Meetings— Good-bye to New Orleans 107 CONTENTS. III.— LETTEKS FKOM COLORADO. "Ho! for the West" 113 First Glimpse of the Rocky Mountains— Colorado Springs 118 " Abroad for the Summer " — A Fashionable Resort - 132 Excursion to South Park ... - 128 Cheyenne Canon — Helen Hunt's Grave - - - 136 To Pike's Peak via Seven Lakes - ■ - 142 The Climb to the Summit - - ■ - - 148 View from the Summit of Pike's Peak— The Descent - 156 Rainbow Falls— Grand Caverns— Garden of the Gods - 163 " Beautiful Denver " ..... 168 " A Province Covered with Houses " - - -173 Twelve Baskets of Fragments - - - - 179 Making a Grace of Necessity - - - -183 A " Family "—Fort Union - - - - 190 About Watrous 196 A New-Mexican Sunset— Las Vegas— A Country Town "Dance" 200 A New-Mexican " Round Up " - . - . 205 "Adios!" 313 IV.— LETTERS FROM CALIFORNIA. " Away to the West, as the Sun Went Down" - - 219 A. T. and S. F. Ball and Banquet at the Phrenix - 324 City of Holy Faith— En Route Again ----- 239 An Improvised Concert— Sunday Service in a Palace Car 337 The " Golden Gate "—Opening of N. E. A. - - - 346 Chinatown Proper ------ 250 Chinatown Improper ------ 255 Santa Barbara— Montecito .... 264 San Diego and Surroundings ----- 373 Homeward ------- 283 v.— FRAGMEJ^TS - - - - 291 Loose thy detaining hand, sweet Home, I cannot stay, lyEy spirit strives and longs to roam, It would away. What are thy narrow, narrow walls, And 'customed g'-oves, To all the wondrous scene that falls To him who roves ? My fancy has out-grown the hill That iiem'd my youtli. My soul must search and find its fill Of God's sweet Truth. NOT AT HOME L— LETTERS FROM WISCONSIN. A First Venture from the State. Chicago, III. The boarding of the early cannon ball at Peabody on the morning of the 1 3th, with a ticket for Madi- son, Wisconsin, via Chicago, marked a red-letter day for me. So it would for almost any one whose " going East" had terminated at Emporia, and West at Newton ; so the first thing I did was to mark it — like the Saint-days of old — Avith red letters. This done, I sank back to the gloomy reflection that when the top of the State Normal School building should disappear, I should have to surrender myself and valise to the tender mercies of steam for the remainder of my untried journey. What a relief, then, when the train halted at Emporia, to see my coach door opened to Miss Spen- cer, Miss Plumb, Miss Bartlett and others, the first two bound for Madison also ! This gave me most agreeable company as far as Kansas City, where our paths diverged. The summer afternoon had lost itself in its endeavor to keep pace with us, and it was after 5 o'clock when the Union depot was reached. Here once more I reflected. Kansas City, 10 NOT AT HOME. Night, and I, a very pleasing trio, viewed separately and by daylight ; but it was from a near inspection that my conclusions were drawn. Therefore, bidding adieu to my friends (now joined by Miss Price, of Wellington), I took the 6:40 p.m. Kock Island train, thus breaking the trio by leaving Kansas City, and taking the night, my share of it, with me. The Chicago, Kock Island and Pacific line to Chi- cago — what a pleasant route it is ! accommodating officers, reclining chair cars, comfortable and elegant; fine scenery and fast time ; in fact, all things condu- cive to comfort, cleanliness, and convenience — words applicable for their perfect fitness as well as allitera- tion. "Never less alone than when alone." What a throng of fancies came to aid in whiling the hours which the noVelty of my position would not permit to be slept away! What "name and local habita- tion" did imagination give to the ever-changing cloud-shafies ! how the tiny sparks of fire streaming past the window became as living things — " Rising thro' the mellow shade, Glittering like a swarm of fire-flies Tangled in a silver braid." And later, suggested by the cloud-hindered moon, there came to mind a quaint little poetic simile, once read and nearly forgotten : " That night the sky was heaped with clouds ; Thro' one blue gulf profound, Begirt with many a windy crag, The moon came rushing, like a stag, And one star — like a hound." LETTERS FROM WISCONSIN. 11 By 7 o'clock a. m. ^ve had gained Muscatine, one of the prettiest phices through which we passed. Here the Mississippi bursts on your sight. You see for the first time, to remember (if you are putting yourself in my place), a steamboat, the Ida Ma;/. The logs lying side by side on the water are ;i curiosity, and you see more lumber here than you have ever seen. Skiffs are numerous, and the tiny sail-boat recalls, in spite of the diversity, the idler's noonday excursion on the Campanian Sea, in the last of Lytton's works you have read. "We follow the river closely now, and glimpses of it may be seen at intervals through the trees. Fairport, the next station, I heard styled 'Jug- toAvn,'' because of its many potteries, I presume. We were soon crossing the river by the long bridge and viewing with admiration the beauties of the tri- cities: Davenport, Rock Island, and Moline. Tlie chief attraction of these cities (and the moral may be applied to other things beside cities) lies in the fact that they do not present themselves at once to the traveler's eye ; but, situated as they are in tlie graceful curves of the river, they continue to give p'easant httle surprises at every turn. The island, too, is an object of interest, with its United States Arsenal buildings, the towers and flags of which may be seen even from East Moline. At La Salle we encountered the canal, with its queer boats and locks. For the attractions of the remainder of the journey, must I look, returning. Concerning them just then I was too sleepy to know, and too tired to care. Arrived here at 2:30 and \)\\i up at the Atlantic 13 JS'OT AT HOME. Hotel, which is headquarters for the Kansas delega- tion. President Taylor took the boat this morning for Milwaukee, while the first detachment of our teachers has gone on to Madison. I shall most probably join the last delegation, which left Kansas City this forenoon, and is due here at seven to-mor- row morning. 1 am looking eagerly forward to our arrival at the educational Mecca, from whence I wall write again. I hear a great deal about the political outlook, and also many amusing stories regarding Kansas. But my notes are too lengthy already. ISational Educational- Association in Sp:ssion. Madison, Wis. "We are all here, after a long siege with omnibus- agents, hack-drivers and baggage-masters ; all here — that is undeniable. But owing to a general misun- derstanding and a particular want of arrangements we were all promiscuously dispersed from Chicago. Prof, and Mrs. Taylor, accompanied by Misses Kulilman and Holmes, came yesterday via Milwau- kee, per boat and rail. I was the next stranger in a strange land, via the St. Paul, Minnesota and Northwestern line. Miss Spencer followed, arriving with the New England delegation of four hundred teachers in a special train. And last came the remainder of Professor Canfield's party (who stopped to note points of interest in the Lake City), including Misses Hoxie, Price, Plumb, and Crichton. Now we are established in private houses in par- ties of six, and are next-door neighbors on a pleasant street. How well we are satisfied with our locations LETTERS FROM WISCONSIN. 13 and the programmes thus far, might be gleaned from various remarks of our company — /. ^\, "Our lines are cast in pleasant places; " " 1 am realizing my dreams of Fairyland ; " " We are glad we live in the nineteenth century and belong to the profes- sion ; " and the universal echoing of Fawcett's words : "How pleasant is the first familiar face one sees in a strange land ! " We enjoy the distinction our State has won, and, thanks to Professor Canlield, we wear our Kansas badges with pride. It is safe to say there are four thousand teachers in the city to-night, and every incoming train is over-crowded. This morning the National Council of Education held a short session ; also the Wiscon- sin State Teachers' Association. In the afternoon the Froebel Institute of North America went into session, likewise the National Musical Convention. This evening an enormous crowd gathered in tlie flag-draped assembly chamber of the beautiful Cap- itol building to hear the address, "Citizenship and Education," by Hon. J. L. Curry, LL. D., of Vir- ginia, After an appropriate complimentary refer- ence to the choice of a place of meeting, he spoke of the recent rival conventions at Chicago, and con- trasted with them the coming together of a body like that wliich meets i"' Madison this j^ear. He spoke of the wonderful progress of our country despite storms, droughts, plagues, mis-legislation, riots, etc., and said that Wisconsin alone had advanced more, educationally, since 1848, her admission year, than Spain and Italy combined had for centuries. He spoke next of American citizenship : no difference in rank, no subject, no slave ; then of immigration, 14 NOT AT HOME. which is not a detriment, because of the influence of schools and churches (not the Church). The danger of unlimited immigration was noted. He referred to the Chinese plank in both platforms, and said that external force for the preservation of peace is not consistent with our theory and form of government. Lender's orcliestra followed witli the stirring quar- tette, ''In glad Song," beginning, " Raise loud on high your mingled voices," etc., and we adjourned to meet to-morrow at 9 a. m., at which time we hold the opening session, listen to addresses of welcome, and responses, and President Thomas Bicknell's annual address. To-morrow I'll visit the exhibition rooms and tell you in my next what I see. When our party makes the planned excursion over and about the city I shall have something else to Avrite. At present our views of the city have been such as could be obtained through tired eyes from train and omnibus on our way in. Thursday evening the Governor gives a grand public reception. The weather is extremely cool and delightful, and every one is in fine spirits. Impressions of a Pketty Northern City. — A Lake Excursion. I WONDER if the Caliph's Garden of Delight was more delightful than was the Capitol park this morning, when the 5,000 assembled at 9 o'clock to hear the address of welcome. The statel}^ building, the gleaming tents, the myriads of streaming flags and festoons, the gayly-dressed and ever-cliauging throng, the shade trees nnd restless fountain — all LETTERS FBOM iV/SCONSlK 15 combined to form a scene ga}' antl imposing. Long before the exeicises began the band discoursed most delightful music from the grand stand on the east side of the Capitol ; and with melody in my ears and sunshine over head, separated for the moment from our party, I leaned over the basin of the fountain and named it— to please the passing whim — Hippocrene, though I hasten to add that I did not drink there- from. Forgetting at once the throng and the occa- sion, I thought — " What a clay To sun me and do nothing! Nay, I think Merely to bask and ripen is sometimes The student's wiser business." But no such unheard-of privilege during a week like this ; and soon the president's hammer called us to the stand to witness the formal opening of the N. T. A. Eev. C. H. Eichards,LL. D., lead in prayer, after which his excellency. Governor J. M. Rusk, Mayor Stevens, General Fairchild, Assistant State Superintendent Chandler, and Dr. John Bascomb, of Wisconsin University, made short addresses of wel- come, happy combinations of cordiality, wit and good humor ; and most heartily were we welcomed to State, county, and city. No less interesting were the responses made by President Bicknell, Dr. D. B. Ilagar, Dr. Richards, first President of the Associa- tion, Hon. J. L. Picard, of Iowa, one of the Associ- ation's "godfathers," Dr. E. E. White, of Ohio, and General John Eaton, Commissioner of Education of the United States. President Bicknell then delivered his annual address, which we did not remain to hear, as we 16 NOT AT HOME. wished to look over one wingof the exhibition build- ing. We succeeded in catching glimpses of AVavd's Exhibit of Natural History, the Mechanical Depart- ment of Purdue University (Lafayette, Ind.), the Palieontological Collection (Rochester, N. ^^.), and the display of the St. Louis Training School. While making the tour of these places we were joined by Superintendent Wilcox, of Beloit, Kansas, Professor Greenwood, of Kansas Cit}^, and Professor H. B. Norton, of San Jose, California. There are twenty-two delegates from Kansas, eleven of which are furnished by the State Normal. Arkansas has fifty representatives, while Kentucky boasts of two hundred. But Iowa carries off the palm with her five hundred. This afternoon our party selected from the six or seven meetings of departments in session that of the Froebel Institute, and right royally were we repaid by the hearing of Colonel F. W. Parker's masterly address, "The Conflict of Two Ideals." It is by far the best address to which we have listened ; but, though I have a faithful outline, I must omit it for a brief account of our excursion on the lake. President Taylor came up in the evening to say that the steamer would leave in about fifteen min- utes, so we hastened as only Normalitej can, fear- ing we would be late. But we were in time — as Normalites ever are. Boarding the beautiful steamer Mcndota, we were soon " Flinging the western waters aside. Breasting the billows in conscious pride, Rolling the fleecy foam below Like wintry wreaths of drifting snow." LETTERS FROM WISCONsIX. 17 Madison is fairly begirt by lakes. Mendota Lake, the one on which we rode, is the largest of four, being nine miles long by five wide. It lies north- west of the city and is connected with its sister naiads — Monona, Waubesa, and Kegonsa — by the Yahara. Its name, Mendota, signifies " Evil Spirits." The steamer made a complete circuit of the lake, starting up and skirting the University grounds and returning via the State Insane Asylum and the blutf, from which latter gleamed the torches of an encamp- ing party. Shall I ever forget those hours — the receding shores, the long track of foam, the fresh, keen breeze, the flapping banners, the distant view of the city, with the tower of its Capitol flashing already witli electric light, the tiny row-boats, the songs and merry conversation! Ah, who could forget ! Some one wished to know who could account for the great quantity of dead fish afloat on the lake. Fortunately we had with us Dr. Gapen, who came, he avowed , for the express purpose of being ques- tioned. To this he answered that he had but one theory to present — i. e., that the fish, well aware of the great quantity of brain food requisite for such an assemblage as the National Teachers' Associa- tion, had offered themselves a willing sacrifice, giv- ing up the ghost without solicitation. How the handkerchiefs fluttered as we rounded the bluffs ! How clearl}^ and strongly rang — " Col- umbia, the Gem of the Ocean," across the waters ! And as we neared the pier, with what reluctance we sang — 18 NOT AT HOME. " Heed not the stormy winds, Though loudly they roar ; Watch the bright and morning star, And pull for the shore." From the " shore" we went home, going by the park to witness the grand illumination, which, by the way, takes place every night. Two thousand Chinese lanterns were depended from wire strings in every direction. Ten Van Derpoele electric lamps encircled the tholus ; the rotunda, senate and assem- bly chambers were alike illuminated with electric- ity. The immense throng of strangers and citizens promenaded for several hours in the park, made ga}^ by countless flags and red, white and blue lights, to the inspiring strains of Leuder's brass band. Educational Exhibits. — Woman's Meeting. — Gov- EKNOK Rusk's Reception. Notwithstanding the countless entertainments in the various churches and halls, I entered the Capitol building for a final glance at the hitherto un visited exhibits. The rotunda is beautifully decorated with such mottoes as — " Education is the Strength of the Nation," " The Nation : Her Safety lies in her Schools," etc., etc. Passing in rapid succession the geographical dis- play of the Lewis Schools, Boston, C. H. King; the Massachusetts School for Feeble Minded, Miss L. L. Moulton ; the Illinois department, and the display of one of the State Normals of Wisconsin, whose chief attraction was its large clay relief map of the LETTERS FROM WISCONSIN. 19 United States, I entered the door which said, "Iowa Exhibition." This exhibit proved to be the finest of all single State displays, occupying two large rooms and the portion of a third. Here I spent the remainder of the forenoon, too engrossed to note the time. A description of those rooms would fill pages, so I give but names: Deaf and Dumb Asylum, Council Bluffs— products of its shoe shop and a collection of rare engravings; Davenport City Schools — crayon sketches ; Oskaloosa High School — herbarium ; State Agricultural College — pencil sketch of building and herbarium of sophomores; Industrial work of Grinnell Public School; Clinton Public School — map-drawing and kindergarten woi-k ; Belle Plaine — drawing ; Des Moines — extensive kindergarten dis- play; Brooklyn Public School — fancy work and sewing department ; Creston Schools — examination, questions and papers ; Germania Schools, Burlington — courses of study and manuscripts ; Ottumwa Schools — botanical papers and herbarium; and, finally, the State Normal at Cedar Falls — apparatus, crayon sketching, stenciled maps, relief maps, and a large entomological collection. The State statistics, beautifully framed, hung on the wall, and above one entrance swung the words, " The Mississippi — her shores are empires.'' Words to this effect were conspicuous: "Iowa: 300,000,000 bushels of corn, 188-1." I regret very much that time will not permit me to see any more in this inter- esting department. In the afternoon I went to the meeting of the Normal section, where an excited discussion took 20 NOT Al HOME. j)lace over a piiper on ''The Kelation of Psychology to Pedagogy,''' presented by W. IJ. Payne, Professor of Pedagogics, Ann Arbor. He advanced some entirely new theories, and maintained his position despite the warm and rapid cross-fire of questions to which he was subjected. The points gleaned in that two and a half hours will not soon be forgotten. I neglected to say that yesterday in the element- ary department Miss Susan Crichton, of our Xormal, gave an interesting talk on the link between the kindergarten and the primary. Also, that our Miss Hoxie was a prominent disputant in the art discussion in the senate chamber, being fairly in her element when she succeeded in completely silencing an unfortunate man or two ! We have had the pleasure of welcoming to our Kansas party Superintendent Smith, of Wyandotte; President Fairchild, of the State Agi'icultural College, and Professor Wilkinson, new instructor in the State Normal. Texas has a delegation of forty, headed by Dr. J. Baldwin, President of the Houston State Normal. Eeunions of the alumni of many- colleges are being held each evening. The telegrams from the Kansas convention are eagerly sought and read by our party. In the evening, from the many other attractions. President Taylor selected for us the Woman's meet- ing. Miss Frances E. Willard was introduced. She spoke for a few moments only, as she had other appointments. She spoke on " Relation of Public Schools to Temperance." Her appeal was strong and touching, and her earnest, womanly, practical words won everv h^art in her audience. Miss Eva LETTERS FROM WISCONSIN. 31 D. Kellogg next read a paper on " The Needs of American Education." She is a pleasing reader, and her article indicated great depth of thought. The final speaker was Miss Clara Conway, principal of the Girls' School at Memphis ; subject : " Woman in the South." She said that woman needs a full, round development, the best that can be given her. She should be placed beyond want or dishonoring marriage. In the South the great need of woman is a University; and she appealed to the North for help in this particular. She was frequently inter- rupted by the most hearty and prolonged cheeiing. Leaving the church, our party strolled 'round to to the Governor's reception, and some of the party availed themselves of the pleasure of shaking his hand and partaking of the refreshments. Hundreds and hundreds of people thronged the house and grounds until a late hour. The number present was estimated at 6,000 teachers and at least 2,000 citizens. Lender's band furnished most beautiful music, and the pyrotechnic display Avas truly grand. I heard some one sa}'^ that this week has been a " continued Fourth of July." Imagine the crowd, when it took one of our party two and one-half hours to move from a side gate to the front entrance of the house ! Imagine 1,000 gallons of ice-cream and one-half ton of cake being consumed in an evening ! To-morrow is the closing, the great, the ' ' gala day;" open-air meetings, and hall meetings, morn- ing and afternoon, with a grand reunion in the even- ing. Speeches will be heard from one representative from each of the several States. Professor Canfield upholds Kansas. Nominations and elections are in 22 NOT AT HOME. progress. F. Louis Soldan, of Missouri, will probably be the next President of the N. T. A., and White Sulphur Springs, Virginia, most likely the next place of meeting. Last Meeting of K. E. A. — " Three Words " From Each State. Chicago, III. Every pleasant thing must have an end ; and the more pleasant it is, the more regretfully do we look to that end. So with the National Teachers' Associa- tion. Yesterday morning, contrary to my expectation, I found time, after procuring my ticket, to look through the exhibits of the Indian, Chinese, and Negroes' Industrial Schools, the State displays of Khode Island, California, Indiana, Minnesota, Mary- land, and Pennsylvania Schools (none of which excelled that of Iowa), and the great departments of books and art. In the morning, also. Professor J. M. Greenwood, of Kansas City, read an excellent paper on " Kesults of an Elementary System of Education." In the afternoon the industrial and normal depart- ments held final meetings. At the former meeting, Professor Fairchild, of the Kansas State Agricultural College, distinguished himself in the discussion of " Handicraft in Public Schools." In the latter. Pro- fessor H. B. Norton, formerly of the State Normal, Kansas, now of California, read a thoughtful paper on " Professional Enthusiasm." In the evening the great Capitol building was ablaze with electric light, and the sweet strains of " Ye Merrv Birds " rano- out above the murmur of LETTERS FROM WISCONSIN. 23 the gathering throng — multitude is a better word ; for just after the ]')resident rapped for order, a ludi- crous message was handed him by a messenger from tlie throng below, signed '' H. Rolland and 5,000 others." So Colonel Parker and other prominent speakers were sent to the east steps of the building to entertain the luckless cro^vd m the park. After prayer, Dr. A. D. Mayo spoke his "Last Words from the South." He deplored the great burden of ignorance under which the South is groaning, and implored Northern aid, by every bond of steel and sympathy. After Miss Nast's charming solo, Monseigneur Capel, the distinguished Anglo-Roman divine, was introduced. He spoke of American education as compared with Eurojiean education, and strongly denied the alleged opposition of the Catholic religion to education. The Monseigneur is a fine speaker. W. E. Shelden at this juncture introduced a resolution expressive of joy at the rescue of Greelev and his party ; at the addition to geographical knowl- edge gained, and at the planting of the American fiag nearer than ever to the north pole. It was adopted amid prolonged applause. Dr. E. E. White, of Ohio, then read the resolutions prepared by the committee. In them were expressed thanks to the prominent directing men, officials of State and city, for entertainment ; to the officials of different railroad lines ; to the Madison papers, the band, and everybody and everything which had made a contribution to this grandest educational convention ever held on the round globe. General Eaton, Dr. Moss, of Indiana, and President Bicknell 21 NOT AT HOME. delivered eloquent speeches on these resolutions, and they were unanimously adopted. After their adop- tion, the president announced that "three words" each would be granted .the representatives of States and Territories. Of course I shall not attempt to quote from each speaker. A few notes will suffice to show^ what a hearty " love feast" we had. Professor Freman, of the State University, spoke for Wisconsin. He said that as there had been no speaking done for the past week he was loath to break, with sound of human voice, the long silence. But had he the tongues of men or angels, or even of women, he could not do justice to the occasion. Further on he said that hereafter Wisconsin would reckon events from the date of this association. President Searing, of St. Cloud N'ormal, appeared next, for Minnesota. He desired all of his delegates to wear their badges home, that the few remaining people in his State ma}^ give them further honor. Professor Edson represented Iowa, " the Massachu- setts of the West," as he called her; spoke of her schools, but most of her prohibition, and said that when the milleniura sun shall rise, its rays will touch the hill-tops of Iowa first. Editor W. E. Shelden was introduced for Massa- chusetts. He began : " Massachusetts sees Iowa's five hundred delegates and goes fifty better ;" where- upon a voice from the gallery cried : " What does that mean, Shelden? what does that mean?" He said that Massachusetts is like the old blind hen who scratched so vigorously ; Kansas is like the young pullet which follows after, and snatches everything the old hen brings to light. LETTERS FliOM WISCONSIN. 25 Montana was represented by Miss Alice S. Nichols, who spoke well. Hon. J. B. Shaddock brought greet- ing from Colorado, " the youngest, the most modest". — " Our Country, Right or Wrong : If Eight, to be kept Right ; If Wrong, to be set Right." Miss Sue Center voiced Arkansas, the State where " man's humanity to man makes countless thousands glad." One of the best speakers was President Drehr, of old Virginia. He is an ex-officer of the Confederate army, and told an interesting story of the darkey who deserted when Sheridan was chasing Early down the Shenandoah, and who gav^e this report on reach- ing home : " The Conf eds is advancing backwards, and de Yanks is a retreatin' on to us." Clara Conway, whose name is on every tongue, arose at the president's call for her own Tennessee ! She terminated her terse remarks with a compliment to President Bicknell's native State, Rhode Island, the place where they have but one way to grow — i. e., upwards. V. C. Dibble, for South Carolina, said that hereafter " I wish I were in Dixie," would be changed to " I wish I were in Madison." Mr. Cowden for Florida, said that he and the Oregon represent- ative had joined hands across the clasped hands of those from Maine and California, and that the act was significant. He invited us to meet next at St. Augustine. When Professor Canfield was announced for Kan- sas, he was greeted with hearty cheers ere he had spoken a single word. He humorously styled Kan- sas " the land flowing with milk and honey, with an occasional locust thrown in." He delicately alluded to Iowa and her prohibition law, and then held up the 26 NOT AT ROME. inspiring picture of our State with her law a part of herself. He said we all still drink — but it is of the intoxicating spiritual wine of progress. He invoked blessings upon the Nation, State and Cause, and ended with an earnest — " God bless you all !" And Kansas is no less proud of her representative than he is of her. Madison was represented by Governor Rusk, whose precious three minutes were all but spent in the enthusiastic cheering which his very appearance elicited. Representatives of the press and of various com- mittees having been heard, President Bicknell for- mally presented his official gavel to Vice-president B. L. Butcher, of West Virginia, for President F. Louis Soldan, of Missouri, now absent. The gavel has quite a history. The head is made of cherry- wood cut from a tree planted by Thomas Jefferson, at Monticello ; the handle is of red-wood taken from the mountain height of Santa Cruz. Hon. Bicknell is elected vice-president ; Calkins, of N"ew York, treasurer for the ensuing year. Among the names of the incoming vice-presi- dents, I noted that of Hon. H. C. Speer, of Kansas, and among the counselors that of our mucli-re- spected president, A. R. Taylor. The meeting closed with three ringing cheers for the hospitable ]ieople of Madison, and the singing of " Praise God, from whom all Blessings flow." The convention has been a perfect success. Every debt is paid, and the treasury holds over $(),0(K). The number present during the week at one time reached 6,000. Madison completely surrendered herself to the pleasure and comfort of her guests. LETTERS FROM WISCONSIN. 37 and never has it been my lot to be entertained in a more agreeable place than I was at the elegant hcfme of Hon. E. S. McBride, on West Carroll Street. A vote of thanks, sincere and heartfelt, was given our host by our party on the last evening, for the week's unmarred enjoyment ; and I for one can never forget their thoughtful kindness. Miss Hoxie and I came to this city at 4 o'clock, vuh Milwaukee. "We had the pleasure of making the personal acquaintance of General Eaton and Vice- president B. L. Butcher en route. Two things I forgot to mention while in Madison — /. diich had prompted me to undertake and had been mine throughout the long journey. When Theseus entered the Labyrinth, he had not only Love as his guide, but held in his hand the magic thread of Ariadne to draw him back into safety. But alas for me, unfavored by the gods! I was reduced to the necessity of purchasing a map of the city (which I confess was, at' first glance, no more to me than a Chinese puzzle), and of sitting- down to locate mvself and the different places of interest. I found that I am but a short walk from Clay's Statue on Canal Street (the principal thor- oughfare of the city), wliich is considered the center of New Orleans, and from which street car lines radiate to all parts. After I succeeded in grasping the fact that the upper side of the street is the south side and the lower side the north, and that the city is in truth a crescent, the map began to untangle itself. Saturday morning, concluding that I didn't need Love, nor the magic thread either, and with a last look at some street names and numbers, I started out for a short walk. I first stopped in a bird store, where I spent some time looking at and listening to orioles, canaries, mocking-birds, parrots, etc., etc. It is inter- esting to watch the men feed the many birds in their charge, and one can but wonder at the adroitness 40 NOT AT HOME. which long practice has given them. I asked a boy who was hanging the cage of a ten-dollar mocker outside, " How many birds have you V " Oh" — as he climbed down to make a courtesy — " we have but one hundred and fifty or so here. We have several other stores in this city, where we have many hun- dreds. I cannot tell exactly, for we are buying and selling all the time." I next entered Baker's flower and seed house, passing between long rows of beautiful plants, many in full bloom. In a talk with the genial proprietor I heard, in regard to the flora of the South, what I had heard often before from Professor Sadler, instructor in Botany at the JN'ormal ; but it did not impress me then as now. He showed me his gold-fish, the pack- ing room, his sidewalk display (a small grove of itself), and his favorite, a great white Jessamine. By way of the post-office, which is on Canal Street, under the Custom House, I lastly visited a small picture gallery. From this place I carry the recol- lection of several pictures and statuettes, one an engraving of the maiden weighing Cupid. There is an anxious look in her face, for a butterfly has alighted on the other side of the balance, and sent Cupid so high that he is looking into her very eyes, while he roguislily draws an arrow from under his wing. Another is the " Midnight Challenge," a noble stag, faultless in form, with head thrown proudly back, standing on a commanding cliff. Behind liim the old moon sinks as if in awe. One of the prettiest statues is of a youth reclming against a half fallen log. A nymph has stolen up behind him, and with a part of her mist}^ drapery LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 41 has blindfolded him. She is peering over his shoulder with an air which plainly says: "Who is it?" In the afternoon I concluded I could do no better than attend the matinee ; and hence betook myself to St. Charles theatre, which, next to the Old P^'ench Opera House, is the largest in the city. The interior, elegantly decorated in modern style, was brilliantly lighted, and the curtain rose, as is the custom here, promptly at noon. I was negligent enough to lose the first scene, studying the audience and wondering how it compared with those who used to greet Macready, Charlotte Cushman, Kean, and others who, I was told, have appeared on the stage. Then I interested myself in the play. It was " The World," by the Star Dramatic Company, with Joseph Wheelock as " Clement Hunting-ford." The stage is the largest I ever saw, and the scenic effect was good, particularly moonlight on the vessel's deck, the ship on fire, and lowering of life-boats, and the raft in mid ocean. Coming out of the theatre I found a soft rain falling, and couldn't help smihng at the way the people went shivering off to their homes. This (Sunday) morning by the time I had breakfast and some letters ready to take with me, it was after ten. " So early ?" queries my hostess, whom I meet in the parlor ; " why, I have just gotten up." And I find it true that the city as a whole rises late and retires late. The electric light and gas are lighted as early as four and five o'clock this cloudy weather, and one can find the stores lighted at all times of day. The Cathedral of St. Louis stands facing Jackson 43 NOT AT HOME. Square, a short ride from Canal Street. This I entered a little after 11, and followed the — we would call him usher, but here they call him Suisse in French. (Somebody told me that, and spelled it for me, but don't say so !) The Cathedral is built after the massive Sjxinish fashion, and presents an miposmg front with its three heavy round towers supported by columns and arches. The interior is a study. Six heavy marble columns on either side uphold the galleries, and continue till they are lost in the arches of the frescoed ceiling. Among the most noticeal)le of the frescoes are the Transfiguration, the Holy Family, and bits illustrat- ing passages from the life of Christ. The altars on the sides of the inain altar seem to be dedicated to some patron saints, and are only a trifle less beauti- ful. The high altar is built of different colored mar- bles and woods. Above it, supported by columns, is a cornice, beneath which is the inscription in Latin, " Behold the Bread of the Angels !" Above all are the statues of Faith, Hope, and Charity. High mass was celebrated, and the music, solemn and subdued, accorded well with the place and the soft light that fell through the stained glass. I stood, unseen, by one of the great columns and watched the congregation cross itself and pour out into the street; certainly a fine opportunity to observe the different types. "When I came out the sun was shining. I crossed the street and entered Jackson Square. It is cer- tamly a credit to the city, with its broad winding- walks, well-kept flower beds, and trees and hedges trimmed into varied and artistic shapes. In the cen- LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 43 ter is the bronze statue of Andrew Jackson, upon a block of marble which says to all : '' The Union : V must and shall be pr served." Of the small statues placed throughout the square, I paused before one of a youth holding a bunch of grapes over a broken shaft twined with a vine. This was the most delightful place I had found. Here were orange-trees, palms, tigs, lemons, roses all in systematic pi'ofusion, and fresh green grass, bor- dered with timid blossoms of white and purple. The charm was partly in what it revealed, partly in what it concealed. Oh, the suggestion, the coquettish con- cealment, the fragrant threat of Spring in ambush — lying m wait to startle the world with delicious sur- prise, and storm even the North with a shower of blossoms I Tearing myself away with the inward resolve to see it again, I came "home" by way of the Levee, where I saw the steamer Elward making ready for departure. I tarried no longer than for just a fflance at the river lined with vessels of all sorts and sizes — and came on well satisfied with my forenoon. Having dined (if you ever had a French-Creole cook you'll know what that means) I spent the afternoon w^riting, scanning the daily Tiiiie><- Democrat, and conversing with my little French hostess. This evening is chilly, and for the first time the fire in my grate is really enjoyable. Once this afternoon I was attracted to the balcony to w^atch a long procession pass. Three gentlemen on prancing white horses, a band, a large French inscribed banner, douljlc columns of men with Hiittering badges of gold nnd crimson, three more 44 NOT AT HOME. equestrians, another band, more silken flags, other columns of men, followed by a long line of carriages. I look inquiringl}^ at my hostess, who is leaning over the iron rail keepmg time to the lively music with her foot. " Some French Benevolent Society," she says French ! French ! I think to myself, every- thing is French ! I wish I could talk French, and read French, and write French, and sing French ! I am about to turn away, when lo ! I see, in the very wake of the gay procession, another of a dif- ferent sort, headed by a slow-driven hearse, with its silver mountings and nodding black plumes. Ah me ! New Orleans is, after all, only a part of our great world ; and life here, in one particular at least, is like the universal life. " One touch of Nature makes the whole world kin." Morning in Old French Market. To GO away without having seen the French Mar- ket is equivalent to not having seen New Orleans. Yesterday morning, with this in mind, I started out for a look at the mart. It was early. The street- sweepers were at work, ice-wagons delivering their o-reat blocks of crystal, a curtain of faint mist swung from side to side of the street, and everything, as Mark Twain puts it, "looked early and smelt early." '' Where were the news-boys ? " you ask. I'll tell you. They are not boys here at all — at least I have seen none. They are men, and they seem to have a monopoly of the newspaper and boot-blacking busi- iiess, Each one stands beside his chair, which is LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 45 screwed to a little platform and furnished with foot- rest, brushes, whisk broom, etc., etc. Around the back of the chair, on a fine wire hang the morning papers, and he offers the " gem'men " a paper and a '' shine " at the same time, with an air so quietl}^ pleasant that it would put to shame our loud-voiced Western criers. Crossing Canal Street at Clay's statue, I entered Koyal. This used to be the main street of the old town, and the change from American to Creole quarters is at once noticeable. The signs and names of streets are all in French, and the massive stone structures, which no modern adornment can make youthful again, appear in dark frowning rows. One of these seemed to command attention, so I paused. It must have been a Court House or some City or State building. It is a melancholy ruin now. The columns are stained and shattered, the iron railing hangs over the side of the broad steps, twisted and rusted, and among the mutilated plaster- forms and once beautiful cornices, birds go in and out with busy familiarity. The birds get the best part of man's estate, after all, don't they ? Passmg through the long arch of the police pre- cinct which adjoins the Cathedral, I fell in with a throng of people going frcmi early mass to market — young women with dainty baskets on tiieir arms, little girls swinging large baskets between them, fat negresses with baskets on their heads, and old women gossiping along together. No need to ask the where- abouts of the market. It seemed that the whole town was going one way. A few more minutes and I stood at the main entrance of the celebrated French 46 NOT AT HOME. Market. For the first instant, stunned by the flare of g-as and the din of voices which reached my ears, I stopped perfectly bewildered. I was in the midst of a crowd of people yelling at the top of their voices in English, Spanish, French, and Irish, and every possible cross among each and all of them. Is this the resurrection of Babel? I thought; or was that entrance marked "Avernus," and am I indeed in the place where all hope must be aban- doned of ever getting out? This is "confusion worse confounded.'^ By and by I worked my way to the first opening on the left, and going in found that I was in the first of the five great divisions — the meat-market. Around every pillar that helps to support the roof, wide stands are built. Meats of all description, fresh and nicely cut, are displaved, and here the noble butcher, to the number of hun- dreds, howls in his own particular language the uni- versal virtues of his own particular meats. Each stand or stall has a jet or two of gas and a fine (?) painting of sheep, cattle, etc., etc., in green prairies, in most absurd positions. Crossing the open space between this market and the next, I entered the Bazaar. Here dry goods, boots and shoes, china, glassware, toys, are displayed, and the venders were fairly making night hideous with their hoarse cries over small articles with long names. I know more about this market, because in an unfortunate moment I was rash enough to pur- chase some trifle and had to spend a couple of hours practicing different stratagems to elude the vigilant vender, who would each time confront me with ; LETTLli'6 FllOM AEW ORLEANS. 47 '■ Pray look at clis, Madam, veiy clieapy — great cuii- osit}'-, Madam ; only five cents," and so on ad injini- tuiti. When I returned through the Bazaar, I gave this stall a wide berth ! The fruit, flower, and vegetable markets are in two large structures and are the most quiet and pleas- ant of them all. Poultry is sold with the fruit, flow- ers with both fruit and vegetables. All the fresh vegetables known to us in the West appear, all sorts of poultr}^, along with green peas, beans, laurel and bay leaves, apples, oranges, lemons, bananas, figs, and pineapples. I saw apples as low as fifteen for five cents, and oranges ten cents a dozen. The last division is the great fish market, and it would require pages to name the varieties of fish, both salt and fresh water, that may be seen. I stopped to look longest at the green turtles, crabs, lobsters, and the cray-fish making their aimless, pain- ful way around tlie large baskets from which they are sold. Here the tables are all marble, and the settlers mostly Spanish. At the end of this market just at this season is much game — wild ducks, geese, rabbits, woodcocks, etc. Not content with this running glance, I made the circuit of all the markets again and again. It was all picturesque and novel. Here sat or stood a group of Indians near their stands of herbs, they only silent in all the din. There a 3'oung housewife was trying to determine the qualities of a dressed duck. Further on a trio of gaudily dressed negro women were cooking their breakfast over a tiny stove. Here a number of visitors were being served ^vith coffee and wafers, and there a woman was 48 NOT AT BOMB. kneeling beside a cradle in the shadow of a stall, t]'ving to soothe her babe to sleep. I learn that the market opens at 5 a. m. and closes at 6 p. M.; that Sunday is tlieu^ greatest day, at which time they open at 3:30 a.m. and close some- times as late as midnight. You can get anything in marketj from a paper of pins to a bed-spread. You can have your picture taken, your teeth drawn, or your pocket picked — all ''very cheaplv-'' I came back by way of the Levee, where I stood for some time watching the scene of busy life, admiring the throng of ships and steamers, and trying to single out the flags of the nations. Across the river is Point Algiers, from which ferry-boats come and go every few minutes. In the afternoon I went up-town (that's south) to enjoy the bright sunshine. I walked through Frank- lin Square, pausing to admire the life-sized statue of the patriot, philosopher, and statesman, and then went on up St. Charles Street to Lee's Circle. This is a sloping mound about twelve feet high, whose base is skirted by a broad shell-walk, and whose summit is crowned with a shaft of white marble surmounted by a bronze of the Confederate General, Eobert E. Lee. The monument, I was told, is 106 feet high. "While I was seated on one of the iron seats, to me came a woman with an open letter in her hand, desiring me to read it for her. "Wondering, I com- plied. She cried a little, for it was from her hus- band, who was far away. Soon she thanked me and went her way. and I slowly retraced my steps, pon- dering the question of compulsory education, and the few blisses which io-norance has for its votaries. LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 49 Destruction of Pompeii — An out-door Drama. It is quite impossible to be lonely or even alone here, isolated as I fancied myself. My host and his family are very kind. "You must see the 'Destruction of Pompeii,' which is given at the exposition grounds after night ; you must see the West End and Spanish Fort, and we will take you with us." This, since they know I belong to the Republican family. So I find myself one of a small circle of acquaintances, ^^ro temjpo, to which one and another add themselves as the days speed by. A drive to the exposition grounds, for nearly four miles up the broad and well-lighted St. Charles Street, is a pleasant one, and if by failing to come last 3"ear I missed the better part of the exhibit, what I wit- nessed last night goes far toward making up the loss ; for neither the Pompeian attraction nor the "Battle of Paris" was here last year. Do you wish to wit- ness the destruction as it appeared to me ? Yery well. Seat yourself before this sheet of water, under the "canopy of heavens," be deaf to those everlasting ticket-sellers, and lend me your ears, and eyes too. P>y the white light of hundreds of electric lamps, we behold a scene, calm as it is beautiful— the city of ancient Pompeii, with its quaint houses, marble columns, and narrow, paved streets. An ample green sward is between us and the city. In the center is a massive temple, the careful reproduction of the descriptions we have so often read. To the right is the great triumphal arch, and to the left a wreathed altar in front of a smaller temple, where 50 KDT AT HOME. later on a sacrifice is to be offered. About the green, several pieces of Grecian statuary delicately pose themselves. The water at our feet bends gracefully to the left of the city, giving lengthened reflections of the vari-colored hghts which cluster along the shore opposite us. It is a gala day, and soon along the streets come trooping the merry-makers, laughing, shouting, and singing. They gather in great num- bers on the green, and the sports begin. Here we witness a nineteenth-century representation of the Olympic games ; but we forget for the time that we are else\vhere than before the Campanian city, over- looked by grim Vesuvius. The games go on. We see the young men contend with each other in running, leaping, wrestling, and sparring; and dancing girls come forward to conclude the sports, fiino-ing flowers as they skip about. The first part of the games having been concluded, the temple doors are thrown open, and a long pro- cession comes forth, headed by white-robed priests bearing torches. From one of the streets marches a line of soldiers with shining bucklers and short swords. These join the procession, and the youths and maidens fall in behind. Even the pleasure party which has witnessed the sports from the sea, lands its slow-moving gondola, and adds itself to the line. This is the second and last part of the festival, the procession, the sacrifice, and the })ublic banquet in honor of the conquerors in the various contests. The procession winds up and down the streets along the shore, where it pauses for a ])rief action in arms by the soldiers, and finally it comes back through the triumphal arch and approaches the altar. The LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 51 < music, which up to this tiuie has been quick and joyous, now becomes preceptibly softer and slower, and you scarcely heed that the procession has coiled itself around the altar, where a pale green light is burning. You are sitting near the edge of your seat, casting furtive glances toward the summit of the mountain, where a faint pink light Hushes the sky for an instant, then dies. The priests have descended to the foot of the altar, holding aloft their flaming torches. The sacrificial fire burns into a steady green light, giving an unearthly appearance to the unconscious worshipers. The music sinks to a wierd and solemn strain. Instinctively you look to the mountain, and lo ! on the crest glows a dull red flame, from which volumes of thick black smoke roll into the dense air and hang like a cloud over the doomed city. The sides of the mountain are all veined with fire, and the play of volcanic lightning rivets your attention. An instant only, for suddenly from the heart of Vesuvius a great column of fire rises up — up, bends into a glowing arch, and falls in a fiery hail on the roofs and streets and commons below. Simultaneously a low, rumbling sound is heard, which seems to come from beneath your feet. l>ut look ! the scene before us is all confusion. The revelers stand transfixed a moment, and then go ■ darting to and fro seeking for shelter from the fast- falling fire. The grinding noise grows into a hoarse roar, drowning the cries of the people and the crash of the music. Great buildings shudder from head to foot in the earthquake's embrace, and rock and sway on their treacherous foundations. The noise grows 52 NOT AT HOME. louder. The fire falls faster and faster. The pillars of the temple crumble, supporting- arches give way, and the proud structure bows totlie earth. Houses are seen in all directions tottering and falling, and people seemingl}^ lie beneath the ruins. And now begins a displays of fireworks, which for variety and grandeur hnds no comparison in all your experience. The people about you exhaust their stock of adjec- tives, use them again in the superlativ^e, and then go back and raise these superlatives "to the third power." But you hold your breath till the last ball of fire trails into upper air and falls a shower of many- colored stars ; till the last spark from the old moun- tain has left it cold and dark and silent ; till the last tone of the music has trembled itself in silence. Then yoli relieve yourself with a long-drawn '' Oh !" and, gazing into the sky above and to tlie earth below, wonder vaguely if you have been dreaming. Before leaving the grounds we took a hurried survey of the plan, for future use. From the ruins of Pompeii we turned to the left, and passed along the front of the Main jBuilding, which measures 1,378 feet. The front is very imposing, with its three immense towers. Have you seen the Crystal Palace ? Did you see the Main Huilding at tfie Centennial ? Know, then, that tliis one is nearly as large as both of those. It covers thirty-three acres of ground, and hence claims to be the largest building ever con- structed. We succeeded in passmg it at last, and turning to the right, abruptly, we paused before the art gallery. This is a fire-proof structure, being built entirely of iron. Forward again, through the gardens to Horti- LETTEUH FROM NEW ORLEANS. 5^5 cultural Hall. We retrace our way to the carriage, drive past the Government Building, and are soon out upon St. Charles Avenue, with the liorses' heads turned toward the city. Can you fancy the impres- sion I carried away from this outline view of the noble l)uildings, trees, and gardens by electricity ? To me it was as if I had passed through the groves of Eumenides, or about the enchanted palace of Psyche. During the evening I was drawn into a discussion with a gentleman, one of the true Southern type, who smokes cigarettes, speaks French, and drinks wine. The subject was prohibition, and of course we could not agree. I presume that he thought that, being from Kansas, I could take only a 200 bv 400 view of tlie subject. So, unlike most arguments, ours ended where it began, leaving each "of his own opinion still." It was early when we reached Canal Street, giving us still time to see the " Battle of Paris," which does not close until 10:30 p. m. In a few moments Ave were ascending the spiral stair-case leading up to the great panoramic view of the "Last Sortie," or the " Battle of Paris," where nature leagues with art in its struggle for perfection. " This is a gigantic delusion." said my companion, "the perfected representation of an imaginary reality." I found it true, but was too wrapped in admiration for the art and artist to wish the spell broken. De- scribe it to you? My perplexed pen falters. lio, no, I cannot ! You must see to appreciate. Besides, as Victor Hugo says, "there are a few things which cannot be described. The sun is one of them." 54 NOT AT HOME. Cemp:teiues of the City. The cemeteries of the city are places of melanchol}'' interest to the tourist. The soil here being so low and wet, the people are forced to bury their dead above ground. I am told there is a place outside the city where the poor are buried under ground. But the graves are dug very shallovr, because water is reached at the depth of three or four feet. Early one sunny morning I entered the old St. Louis Cemetery, on Basin Street. It is enclosed by a high moss-grown brick wall, and the multitude of Avhite marble tombs — houses of the dead, as it were — cr«jwded close together forming only narrow alleys between ; the dampness, at once apparent, and the ])rofound stillness of the ])lace, could not fail to throw a chilling influence over the most buoyant of spirits. The tombs are either of brick or marble, and most of them bear Spanish and French inscriptions. The venerable sexton informed me that the cemetery is over one hundred and sixty years old, that most of the tombs belong to the ancient Creole colonial families, and that tombs cost all the way from $100 to $1,000. The most attractive monument is that erected by the Italian Society. The niches contain several beautiful marbles, one of " Italia " herself, and the Avhole is surmounted by the statue of Keligion leaning on a cross. Nearby, in the corner, is the private burying ground of the Laytons. It is enclosed by an iron fence, and surrounded by the most beautiful fi:n'ubs and flowers. High on the face of the marble fi'ont mav be traced the name of the first buried, and LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 55 SO on down — the letters growing more and more dis- tinct — to tlie gilded inscription of the last, dated 1828. Fronting the main entrance towers the monument of the Portuguese Society, containing forty vaults. It bears the names of its members, and is crowned by an image of Silence holding an inverted torch. Near it is the lofty tomb of the Societe Francaise, and that of the Artillerie d'Orleans surrounded by v. chain of cannon. From these monuments I turned my attention to the private tombs, or, as they are marked, the "Tombeau de la famille.'' On these I read such old names as Rosseau, D'Yille, Lamarque, Babcock, Bernard, D'Larne, et al. These tombs invariably praise the virtues of the wife, mother, and sister, and the valor of the husband, father, and brothei'. One said : " To my beloved wife." '' Her voice avjis ever soft, gentle, and low." I was struck by the vast number of the men who had died on the battle-field, some in the War of 1812, and some in the civil war. On the family tomb of the Genas I read that one fell in battle in i812; further down another had died fighting nobly atMur- f reesborough in 1 862 ; and the last inscription was " To the memory of Dr. Augustus H. Genas, one of tlie founders of the Medical College of Louisiana. Died 1878." On the tomb of an infant was traced, " She was taken away lest wickedness should alter her understanding' or deceit beg-uile her soul." Many were so dim and weather-stained that it was impossible to decipher them. Here is one of the oldest which is yet legible : 50 NOT AT HOME. "Ici rcposcul Antoino Bouuabel, uatif d'Cliateauroiix, Fie. DecedelaGFev. 1800." I spent the entire forenoon picking m^' way among the silent houses of this silent city ; and when the bell in tlie Cathedral struck twelve, 1 detached a spray of green cedar, to remember the place, and turned toward the entrance. I followed the walls, which are lined with vaults called '' ovens '' — for the reason, I presume, that if a vault is needed for another body, the coffin of the one within is broken and burned, and the bones deposited in the lower vault. Here are interred many who were natives of Spain, Itah', Saxony, Ireland, etc., and the ever-present cross here, as in fact all over the cemeterj^, bespeaks the prevail- ing faith. The whole cemetery vras strewn with decorations, china vases, withered bouquets, half burnt candles, and knots of faded crape and ribbon — placed on the tombs All Saints' Day, November 1. Several slabs bear the words " Victime de 1' 11 oneur,'- marking the resting-places of those killed in duels — a practice which Progress and Enlightenment have nearly stamped out, and we are thankful for it. An Early Breakfast.— Sunday in Xew Orleans. I arose at 5 o'clock Friday morning, and accom- panied' my hostess to ma ket. It was sti 11 dark when we entered the street, but the city was astir, and the market, which we reached after a short wallv, was the scene of busy life, I don't know wlion tlio ]ieopl > LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 57 hero must sleep. The last thing I hear at night — • and that is late enough — is the noise of the street, the music, the clatter of hoofs and wheels over the stones, and the various untranslatable cries of venders. A nd it is only a continuation of these same signs of life which greets my waking senses. The market to which we went is called Poydras Market, for a benevolent gentleman who, dying, left large sums of money for the erection and maintenance of several charitable institutions. It is built after the ])lan of the French Market, on a much smaller scale, and is carried on in about the same manner. Here I learned a fcAV lessons in marketing, as my companion passed down one aisle and up another, choosing some crisp, fresh vegetables here, and some newly-dressed fowl or tempting fruit there. Behind us at a respectful distance came the woman, with a large basket to carry the morning's purchases. Before leaving we refreshed ourselves at the side table with a cup of delicious coffee, made with a dripper, Creole fashion. After breakfast we concluded to go out to the Exposition grounds ; so we took the steam car and were soon there. But I shall attempt no description. ^'oR know just how it is when you are with a party tliat goes "for fun"; that hurries through the Main Building, to the lake ; flies through the State displays in the great Government Building; drags you through the alluring Avalks of Horticultural Hall, and stops before some magnificent painting or statue in the Art Gallery only long enough to pant — " Oh, ain't it pretty !" and then hastens on — in fact, one that " has a good time," and sees the ridiculous side of 58 NOT AT HOME. everything. To-morrow I shall "slip ofif" and go alone. Then I'll tell you what I see. Yesterday we went to matinee. It was the Star Company, in "The Pavements of Paris." It is a most exacting presentation, allowing the audience little else, I'or three hours, than a close study ot stage and synopsis. Like " Les Miserables," it gives glimpses into high and low life of the French capital. Two things impressed me: First, " De Flachon's " laughably pathetic apostrophe to the five-franc piece; and, second, Minnie Monk's utterance of the words, ''Dead! dead! dead!" when as " Comtesse De Lannay" she hears of her daughter's death. Tl e artistic inflections of surprise, anguish, and (les})ai- which she gives each time she pronounces the ^\()Y^\ together with the impressive gestures, make one loolc a second time at the actress when she reapi)e;;ii-. The Southern audience is quite demonstrative, ultcii interrupting favorites in the midst of their speech. To-day I went to church, to the First Presbyteri;;n Church, to hear the well-known Dr. B. M. Palmer. The church is on Lafayette Square, and has a ])lain but beautiful exterior, with a delicate steeple at the side, some 200 feet high. Once inside 3"0U are impressed with the dimensions, as well as the taste- ful decorations. It is 75 x 90 feet, with the ceiling of 42 feet. T listened to some excellent music by a well- trained choir, and thei^ to an eloquent sermon from the text, " Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart." And I did not wonder, when he was well begun, why Dr. Palmer is renowned — why they had said to me, " You must not go away without LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 59 having heard the Eev. Dr. Pahner." His logic is clear and forcible, his illustrations graceful a? they are striking, and his exhortation, though brief, the model of finished oratory. His idea in regard to the insignificance of all the other inventions, however niiglity, as compared with thought, is never to he forgotten. This has been a warm day, bordering on to sultriness. The doors leading from the parlor to the balcony have stood wide open all day, and the sun has been absolutely uncomfortable on the balcony this afternoon. There is a merry party out there just now, enjoying the music. Sunday in New Orleans, for all that I can see, is like any other day — onl}'- more so. Indeed, it is only by frequent reference to my calendar that I can tell when Sundays come. Few business houses close, vessels come and go, loading and unloading, the resorts are all crowded, there are the usual matinees and theaters at all the houses, and what looks worst of all to me, the saloons are wider open than ever. Why, even the ladies drink here; and board is bargained for " with or without wine." I never see those of my own sex draw up around the tables in the dining-room, and hear them order from the wine hst, but I am led to think of the many noble women in our own State who are earnestly working against this very evil. And on both sides they are mothers, wives, sisters, daughters — women. How can this thing be ? I do not say that Kansas has found the only way out of the difficulty. I admit that our law is faultv and its officers too often weak. But I do believe that she has climbed to an eminence above 60 NOT AT HOME. the typical Southern State — an eminence higher than those of education and industry — and that it is a lono: stride toward the riainting of Eve lying prone in the garden. The attitude of despair and self-abandonment is little less than perfect. The artist is French, Leon Ilodebert. There in the corner are the two giant trees before the temple erected by Jupiter — an oak and a lime, Phileman and Baucis, the living monuments of hos- pitality. Here is the " Cradle of the Hudson," a charming New York scene by a New York painter. Near it is " Dante, Observing Beatrice at Church." This painting attracts much attention ; for no one, I ven- ture, can look upon the striking face of Dante with- out he — " Gazes his fill, and comes and comes again. That he may call it up when far away." " Bound Out" is a graceful vessel with every inch of canvas stretched for the outward voyage. ThQ LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 75 moon is rising over the dancing waters, and its shin- ing path in the ship's wake is the most exquisite blending of colors in all the paintings to be seen : James Tyler, ISTew York, artist. " All hail — Mac- beth!" is the largest picture in the building, and must be seen at a distance to be appreciated. It is the celebrated scene from Shakespeare, of Macbe a and the witches. Here Cyparissos, having acciden- tally taken the life of his favorite stag, now moiiiiis prostrate beside its body. The sepulchral gloom of the forest is finely portrayed, but finer still is the mingled grief and self-reproach on the face of the youth. " Fetch," another painting of the famous dog " Jilt," is true as life itself — the quivering bird in his firm jaws, the half -lifted forepaw, the intelligent gleam of his bright dark eye, and every tense muscle of his well-poised body. It would send a true hun- ter to the seventh circle of rapture. In the paintings of the "'Disputed Prisoner" two stalwart soldiers contend fiercely, one mounted, the other over the body of his dying horse, while the captive, a fair girl in loose robe and sandals, crouches terrified in the foreground, watching the combat. The artist has given her face such a com- mingling of emotions that it is impossible to deter- mine which IS uppermost. And here is a glimpse of the ragged Ethio])iaii coast, and the hapless Andromeda leans like a droop- ing flower against the cold, dark rock to which her arms are fastened with heavy chains. The sea is lashing angrily around her uncovered form. And lo! at her very feet rise out of the waters the hor-. 76 JSOT AT HOME. rid sea-monsters, the instrument of the gods' wrath, ready to devour her for a crime of which she is inno- cent; but the gallant Perseus comes flying to the rescue, bearing the Gorgon^s terrible head. Androm- eda's eyes are lifted to her rescuer with such a beautiful expression of trust that you wonder more and more at the marvelous power of just a brush and bits of coloring. What must have been the artist's ideal, if this is his power's nearest approach? For remember the poet's query— "I wonder if ever a song was sung, But the singer's heart sang sweeter ; I wonder if ever a rhyme was rung, But the thought surpassed the meter ; I wonder if ever a sculptor wrought Till the cold stone echoed his silent thought ; Or if ever a painter, with light and shade, The dream of his inmost heart portrayed ? " Before leaving the place wliere you have spent so manv pleasant hours, you go back for a last look at that "^ pallid, blood-stained face, shadowed by the crown of thorns. You gaze long, for here is more than even the artist's soul— and then turn away, while that divinely sweet expression sinks deeper and deeper into your heart. United States Mint.— Slaughter House. '^ I'm tired of New Orleans, am sick of the Expo- sition and the noise, and the streets, and everything ! I never did like the South anyhow. They said 1 wouldn't have a good tnne. I wish I hadn t come." LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 77 These are the words I heard the other day through the transom over my door, which opens hito the par- lor. I have heard the like two or three times before, from parties who have tried to see the Exposition, French Market, West End, and the Battle of Paris in twelve hours, with a boat ride and a matinh thrown in, and who, strange to say, return to the hotel weary-eyed and foot-sore, to give vent to some- thing like the above. As if IS'ew Orleans or Louisi- ana or the Southern States in general had any right to contain anything that Yankee eyes couldn't '' take in " in twelve hours ! The idea ! Then there is another class, who grieve over the spilled milk of time and money spent, with no return. " The Exposition is a humbug, French Market's a fraud, and Kew Orleans don't amount to anything ! I'd be better off if I hadn't come." I always like to look into such a man's face, because it tells the truth where his words do not. It invariably says there is something wrong within. He is tired, not of New Orleans, but of his own thoughts. He may go North, or West, or East — it will be the same. How many wearisome journeys are taken to get rid of — self! But it ever travels with us, " and what wo have been makes us what we are." Can we elude our shadow I Useless, useless. Ah ! " I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry, ' 'Tis all !)arren !'" One morning last week we went out to the United iStates Mint, which is open to visitors from 9 a. m. to 1 2 M. I learned that it occupies the old site of Fort St. Charles, and that the great, gloomy building cost the (Tovernment over $180,000. Here General Jackson 78 NOT AT HOME. stood in 1S14 and reviewed his army as they went to meet the British; and here in 1802, my companion told me, Munford was hung in the front yard for tearing down the Stars and Stripes from the roof of the Mint. Within we were shown to the first floor by the janitor. Here, having registered, we were guided by a young man through this and the upper floors. He sliowed to us and explained the eight different pro- cesses through A\'hich the silver passes — from the great dull-looking "brick," till it was handed to us bleached, rolled, polished, and cut the size of a dollar, though still unstamped. We spent much time in the stamping-room listening to the young man's explana- tions — though we had to crowd around him to hear his words above the rumble and clatter of the heavy machinery, and watching the continuous hail of bright warm dollars into the "pans." Some of the young men of the party " bought" new dollars with old ones, and many were the laughing remarks and witticisms which the occasion prompted. Taking the street cars we were soon out to the United States Barracks, which are at the lower limits of the city. They consist of a series of long buildings, sur- rounded by a beautiful grove of oak and magnolia, and well-kept grounds. The whole is guarded by a thick wall of brick pierced for musketry, and at the four corners are high brick towers. Several compa- nies occupy the barracks, and we left the guai'ds walking their slow, monotonous beats outside the walls. The Slaughter House is situated on the river front outside the city limits, and some seven or eight miles LETTERS FROM NEYC ORLEANS. 79 from Canal Street. This, althouoli not a very inter- esting place, vras nevertheless our next stopping- place. You can form an idea of tlie size of the i)lace — ^the pens for cattle, hogs and sheep, the long, long- sheds where the killing and dressing are done, the open rooms where the hides are cared for, the yards where the innumerable carts are loaded for market, etc.^ — when I tell you that all the butchering for a city of 250,000 people is done here. In our walk through the sheds we noticed the dexterity with which the meat is handled, the size of the vats where the scalding is done ; that at regular intervals streams ( )f cold water run through the gutters from one side of the building to the "other, and that the whole floor can be deluged at once. The cattle, they told us, are not corn-fed, being most of them from Texas; and what I saw could not compare with our average beef. Behind the little mule with the tinkling bell once more, we returned to the hotel by a different route. Once we stopped at the " charcoal depot" to exam- ine the large basin, the end of the canal from Lake Pontchartrain, which enables schooners laden with lumber, charcoal, building material, etc., to reach a central part of the city. The little crafts and sail- ing vessels lay so close in the basin that you might almost have crossed on a bridge of boats. A half hour or so here among the shouting marines and ever-present fruit sellers, among ]iiles of lumber and heaps of oysters and charcoal — then the street car again, " And then to dinner, With what appetite you have." 80 NOT AT ilOMl^. The next dtxy I went to the Grand Opera House to see " Victor Durand/' It U the old plot of so many French romances— an escaped galley slave weds a beautiful girl, is detected, recaptured, tried, cleared, and " all are haj^py." But no matter about a worn-out plot. The acting is line. Marie Wain- wright, as the wife of "Victor Durand," is superb, ller facial expressions, her very gestures alone arc eloquent, while she listens to the story of her hus- band's wrongs. The drama throughout is one of intense emotion, calling for much aci!/?^^/ and the act- ors are fully alive to all that is required of them. Miss: Wainwright and Mr. Wheelock were again called before the curtain to bow their acknowledgments over a choice floral tribute. In the evening we went to the Avenue Theatre to hear James Eeiley, the come- dian. We found him harsh, almost offensive, in con- trast with Wheelock's smooth expression and finished acting. But we had to laugh — laugh until we were tired, and resolved to settle down and confine our- selves to smiling for the rest of the evening. Then the curtain ^vould go up again, and Eeiley would say or do something too inexpressibly funny to be resisted. There would be a rij^ple of laughter from parquet to gallery. Some old fellow in front would break out into a genuine country ha ! ha ! ha ! and away would go our good resolutions. If, indeed, " Grief to our coffin adds a nail, no doubt, And every grin so merry draws one out," I am sure of a few hundred coffins, which, thanks to James Reiley, are left in a very shattered condition.. LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 81 Scene at the Levee. — Depakture of the "■ Natchez," One morning last week I took a long walk to the rear of the city, resolved to see not only the parks, and flower gardens, and beautiful residences, but also the dark side of IN'ew Orleans. There was a doubt in my mind, when I started, as to whether there was any dark side to find. Fair city of the river ! Could there be else than happy homes, and merry hearts, and flowers and music and sunshine within her limits ? I walked past the depot, past the last structure of brick or stone, and then on and still on. And I found the dark side — the black side — the narrow, crooked streets, the old tottering houses, the mire and filth in gutter and door yard, the ilhclad, wretched people, the quarreling, the swearing, the misery and want. All this I found, and more ; but I need not describe it. You can find it too. Leave that precious business or the comforts of your fire- side some morning, and take a walk to the outskirts of your own city. What you see and hear will have one effect at least : it will send you to your home Aviser, more contented, and ashamed that you ever murmured at your lot. Surely, one half a city knows not how the other half lives ! In the afternoon I didn't go to a matinee, nor the art gallery, nor the city library, nor to Lafayette Square. I went down to the levee, to look over the top of a bale of cotton upon a scene which is all of the above combined ; and I didn't pay fifty cents for my seat, either. I think you'd smile to see me pick- 82 NOT AT HOME. ing my way among the boxes and barrels along the colossal front of the packing-house, or over the banana and orange peelings and refuse cotton that strew the levee, and all with that hurried, mysterious air which says, " Don't stop me. Can't you see that I have important business on hand?" And so I have. I want you to see the levee at its busiest time — Saturday afternoon — and to witness the departure of six steamers. The Natchez leaves this afternoon, so you'll get to see one of the lai'gest and swiftest steamers on southern waters. You needn't be afraid. I have a guardian angel down here in the form of a great big policeman, whose club is a terror to small boj^s, dogs, and idle darkies. Here we are at last, and before us a scene which almost defies description, because it is constantly changing. But quick, now ! We'll take an " instan- taneous process" negative of it, and develop the picture at leisure. " You don't see anything but cotton and sugar, and mules, and negroes, and boats, all mixed up together?" Yes, I know. That's all I could see at first, and so bewildered and frightened that I couldn't have told a darkey from a barrel of sugar, if any one had asked me. But by and by you find out that no one is paying any attention to you, and you begin to see that it's a systematic con- fusion after all. The levee, you see, is built of very heavy thnber, is several squares wide, and is divided into three great divisions : that in the centre, at the head of Canal Street, is the cotton levee ; to the left, at the head of Conti Street, is the sugar levee ; and this, at the head of Poydras Street, is the grain levee. At LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 83 the sugar levee, notice those long, open sheds where hogsheads of molasses and sugar are piled the sheds' length and up, up. No wonder Louisiana has been called the " sugar bowl" of the Union ! There at the cotton levee the brown bales are piled everywhere. Some of the piles are covered with tarpaulins. Those are to remain on the levee, perhaps to load some steamer not yet arrived, or perhaps to be hauled on the morrow to some of the storehouses. Some of it is piled only two bales high, and, you see, has little flags of different colors stuck here and there all over it. That means that it has just been unloaded, and is already assorted by the imrchaser. There is a great steamer, which proves after unloading to be the John W. Cannon, but just now so laden with cotton that little of her is to be seen except two blackened smoke-stacks rising above her burdened decks. Notice, now ; they have reached two groaning "planks" from the levee to the uppermost bales. Up one of these moves an endless line of panting negroes in shirt sleeves, each carrying one of those curious cotton-hooks. Down the other '' plank " come rolling and bumping the bales of cotton, each guided l)y the dusky arms of one of the aforementioned line. At the foot of the "plank" awaits another line of men, the foremost of which catches the descending bale and trundles it off to where the drays are backed in to receive it. These drays are twice the length of the ordinary wagon, low, very stout, and are drawn by three mules, the third hitched by a single-tree to the end of the tongue. Watch theui for awhile. Note with what regularity those descending bales rise on end, 84 ^Of AT HOME. and fall, to ris^ again, all of them at the same time. That man calling so hoarsely and directing the workers is the first mate. How soon he detects a lagging one ! The men are employed by the hour, and he says the "only way to get work onto' niggers anyhow is just to keep a cussin' 'em." See how the little mules tug and strain to start that heavy dra}'- ; how the very wheels creak under that mountain of cotton, and how incessantly the driver cracks his long whip, or lays it about the shaggy sides of his ill-kept, unfortunate trio. Well, let us leave them to unload the Cannon without us. We can't do anything except to frown at the heartless drivers and pity the little mules, and the one seems about as much impressed as the ■other. Here they are putting coffee on board the Natchez. Two men stand at the end of each tier •of sacks, and as the negroes come down from the steamer, they swing a bag of coffee to the shoulder of each, and the line turns steadily back to the steamer. They are loading her with lumber and oranges and baled hay and furniture ; and over one plank they are urging a drove of terrified horses. Drays and wagons are constantly backing into the places assigned them, bringing ploughs, car- riage wheels, barrels of the " best Louisiana," wao^on tires, bricks, buckets, shovels, and boxes of all sizes ; and they come and go so fast, and bring so much, that you begin to look over your shoulder toward the city, and to wonder what will be left when the Natchez is loaded. Besides the hundreds of men at work loading and unloading the vessels which line the levee as far up and down as 3^ou can see, there LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 85 are as iiianv, if not more, idle. These are lauffliinw, shouiing-, smoking, eating, and talking. Frnit sellers, both men and women, thread and crowd with their large baskets on their arms. Crowds of small boj^s, black, white, and all the intermediate shades, are among the bales and other merchandise, eating pea- nuts and dodging the policemen who walk up and down the levee at regular intervals. Men with smaJl books and pencils are hurrying about the cargo with a preoccupied air, which says they are unconscious of everything save the goods they are classifying. Little groups of lookers-on stand back, as we do, to enjoy the novelty of the scene, or press nearer to view the water. Supposing we accept the policeman's polite offer to conduct us on board the Ncitchez f We hesitate for a moment. If we go we can see the whole river scene, which a wall of closely-packed steamers has heretofore shut from our view. We can tell the folks at home that we have been on board one of the largest of the Mississippi steamboats. And then, you know, we haven't been on the water since we took that pleasant excursion on Lake Mendota, 'way up in Wisconsin, two summers ago. It's too much for human nature, so we go, and we are not sorry. The kind porter shows us all over kitchen, office, the beautiful cabin, with its massive furniture, glit- tering chandeliers, great piano, and soft carpet ; the negroes' quarters, the wash-room, machinery, state rooms, etc., and then leaves us on the '"guards" to enjoy the river ; and oh, reader, would you have had me leave New Orleans without this? Only think of your hesitating about coming aboard! But I won't take this precious time to scold. 8f) NOT AT HOME. She leaves at five o'clock, you know. Let us look. Here below us lies the Cannon, and a beauty she is, now that we can see her. Her cargo is all but discharged. Do you know that those large steamboats can carry from 5,000 to 8,000 bales of cotton at one load, and each bale weighs about 450 pounds ? I heard the clerk of one of the steamers tell some gentleman so. Above us lie the 11. Ilatma Blanks, the Tennas, St. John, and the Guiding Star, of Cincinnati, all with their flags flying, which means that they leave this afternoon. This side the river is completely lined with vessels of every description, and across the water, about Point Algiers (now a part of New Orleans), lie many, many vessels, either for repairs or off duty. The ferry-l)oats, ten in number, are ever crossing and recrossing, leaving a track of dis- turbed waters in their wake. Little steam-tugs, attending strictly to business, are towing coal to the steamers. There goes one, a very dirty, unpiratical affair, named the Corsair. Pleasure boats and skiffs olide hj, or pause to rock and rest upon the sunlit waters. Anon a stately steamship, a "stranger" bound for an unknown port, sweeps slowly past, her sails looking dirty and her huge anchor rusty from this close view. Tiny " job-boats,"" the busy-bodies of the river, dart to and fro, prying around for something to do, and they are not long in finding it. See, the Wasp has fastened on to one of those stupid flat-boats, which has loaded herself with coffee and then waited, in utter helplessness, for the Wasj). Now, isn't that just like some people you know ? They load themselves down with responsibilities, and then fold their hands and wait for some one to draw LETTERS FROM NEW ORLEANS. 87 tliem out into the current. But before we are lialf through with the simile the energetic httle Wai^j), with arms of steel and heart of lire, has dragged its burden out of our sight. So the boats pass and repass, as in a dream ; and it is all so strange and delightful that you let them come and go unnoticed except as in some vision. And then there is the dim horizon and the warm sun- shine, the .blue sky and the bright water ; and the south breeze is so fresh, and it is so cool here in the shade! You lean over the guards, yielding to the gentle rocking of the boat, look down into the water, and are thinking how very delicious it is just to be living, when our friend the policeman comes to say respectfully, that " We'll be going ashore, ma'am, before the rush." We are just in time. The bells begin ringing, passengers arrive, trunks, valises, and all sorts of baggage are being put on board. The planks are all in but the one over which the passengers go. The workmen are paid off, and are collected a dense crowd on the landing. Carriages drive, one after another, to the end of the plank, good-byes are spoken, and the ladies and gentlemen go aboard. The negroes follow, huddling about their own quarters. "Good-bye, Idy," I hear an old colored woman say to a half-grown girl, who stands wiping her e3^es with a red handkerchief. " Sa}^ how-dy to yoah mammy for me, an' tell lier nex' time T comes down de ribber Fse gwine to tote you back wiv me." The clock in the Cathedral steeple strikes five, and still the six steamers with the floating flags cling to the dykes. You remember what a ladv told you the 88 iV'07' AT HOME. other day — i X 40(J sheet called Kansas these few western columns are the prose — the " plates," perhaps. " Va- riety is the spice of life." You wouldn't expect it all to be original poetry, like Butler county, would you ? That would show poor taste on the part of its great Editor. We reached Garden City at 4 o'clock by the new time, and bidding good-bye to the lessened party in the rear coach, we were driven to the beauti- ful residence of Mr. E. jlST. Gause, on St. John's and Fifth. After tea we donned our wraps, for the evening was quite chilly, and were driven over this wonderful city — wonderful because it has grown up mostly within the past three years. It has water works, street railway, a forty-thousand-dollar opera house, broad, level, well-shaded streets, and many handsome blocks — one in particular, in which is the Buffalo Hotel, built by one of the founders of the town, a man of the omnipresent name — Jones. In our wanderings near the depot I was surprised to meet one familiar to us all^Mr. F. M. Anderson, late conductor of the passenger train on the McPher- son branch. He too is westwartl bound, and looked decidedly unofiicial in citizen's clothes and without his 118 NOT AT HOME nickel punch. AVe spent this afternoon— our hist — with our unweariedly attentive host, in the cool east parlor, among the poets, attending service in the evening at the M. E. Church. And, too, we discussed things of interest in and about the resorts to which we will go ; for Mr. and Mrs. Gause have but just returned from Manitou, and could give us much valuable information. We take the 1 :20 train to-night ; and as the time draws nearer I cease to retrospect. I think of the untried journey before me, of the sights to be seen, the pleasures awaiting us with Nature and our fellow vacationists, " As at night aloug tlie dreary highway, near and nearer drawn. Lo! I see the Hghts of future, flaring like a distant dawn ; And my spirit leaps within nie, to be gone before me then, Underneath the lights I look at, in among the throng of men." And with such thoughts I sink to a brief sleep, with visions of cations, mineral springs, steej) ascents, crowds of })leasure-seekers, summer verdure, and froAvning mountains, flittiug through my brain m vague and dreamlike confusion. First Glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. — Colorado Springs. COLOKADO SpUINGS, COL. One o'clock Monday morning, the time set for the continuation of our journey, proves to be such an hour as well-paid hackmen and young ladies abroad in search of adventure alone can brave. The rain falls heavily, and the lightning Hashes threatening LETTEllS FROM COLOJiAUO. HO lines athwart tlie sky. But when Garden City lias been left two or three hours to eastward, the faint smiles of another dawn greet my sleepless eyes through the coach window, and the spent rain-cloud is rolled up like a wind-torn banner. At Coolidge, where a shortstop is made, I lean dutifully from the window, and, looking back over the dingy, outlined features of "'my ain countree," re-])! edge my old vows to be her loyal subject in tliouglit and word in whatsoever land I sti-ay. Two miles further we cross the State line, and the face of the country is noticeably changed. The buffalo-grass has grouped itself together in tufts, which look like islands in the sea of sand. Jlerds become larger and more numerous. Abrupt hills break upon the sight. In the vicinity of La Junta, where Ave part company with south-bound passengei's and ourselves tend northwestward, a bank of purple clouds appears along the horizon before us — a dim, hazy, shapeless pile, that grows clearer and more shapely, and towers higher and more assuring, until we realize, with emotions new and undeiinable, that we are gazing upon — the llockies. " Pueblo ! Twenty minutes for breakfast !" But I look with scorn upon the sordid, worldly, prosaic brakeman who thus breaks my revery. Does he th'nk that smoke-hidden Pueblo, or a snatched break- fast, or an3^thing else can have a charm for one who has seen nothing higher than Walnut Hill or the bluffs around Arkansas City ? (Especially when we expect to see Pueblo again, and considering that we have a tempting luncheon with us !) To one who has seen only 130 NOT AT HOME. Verdant wheat fields, stretching southward, Fruitful orchards, east and west, as far as the eye could reach, the first glimpse of mountain scenery is absolutely fascinating. And so \ve gaze and gaze, all heedless of the fact that the A. T. and S. F. has handed us over, bodily and baggagely, to the Denver and Kio Grande, and that we are curving, and sweeping, and climbing almost north ward. For we are looking with silent reverence upon the white head of the venerable Pike's Peak. And at once there rushes into my mind stories of the days of '49, of the wagon trains, of the ever-present mover from " Pike county," of the ' ' oxens " — "• Buck " and "Bright" and "Tige" and "Golden"; of the privation, suffering, and death ; and tlie history of the noble though ill-rewarded life of that hero, Zebulon Montgomery Pike, for whom this giant peak was well named. You "don't remember about him?" " Tell you his life, and what he did, and how he lived and died, and where he is buried?" ISTo, I haven't the space; and besides you ought to know all about him, when our own Koble Prentis has told it so well in his "Pike of Pike's Peak," delivered before the State Historical Society and published ten years ago. For two hours we wind in and about, along the picturesque D. and K. G., with the Peak looking down upon us at every turn, and at 10:20 we step out upon the platform at our destination. Colorado Springs is a beautiful little city. The seemingly interminable streets and avenues are wide (l-iO feet or more), and invariably lined with dense ranks of the familiar cottonwood and box-elder. The continuous blocks of business buildings are sohd LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 121 and substantial. Some of the residences are marvel- ous displays of wealth and taste ; and many cottages less pretentious are none the less desirable as homes. Few lots indeed are without a well-kept lawn, arbor, flowers^ and vines. Colorado College and a Deaf Mute Institution are located here. The Opera House is neat and tasty. The Antlers Hotel, facing the depot, is said to be the finest in the State, and was erected recently, at a cost of $1 25,000. Tejon Street, the principal thoroughfare, runs north and south, while the avenues with like foreign-sounding names cut it east and west. We succeeded in securing pleasant rooms with a private family on Yermijo avenue, fronting the city park, which are, I think, much pleasanter than the hotels in their present over-crowded condition. After rest and refreshments we strayed idly about a portion of the city, ''reading signs and running against people." We found that — " 'Tis Monday morn, and all the world is On the line a-drying ; So that the seven days' smirk may get its Weekly purifying," and further, that the inhabitants of this delightful resort live, move, and have their being, buy and sell, drive bargains, seek pleasure, and fly trouble, much as they do elsewhere. In the afternoon a cloud comes up over the mountains, and it rains. But what matter? The water filters through the sand and gravel almost immediately, and the cloud disappears as suddenly as it comes. The drainage here is the most simple and 123 NOT AT HOME. effective I have ever seen. The city is built on an elevated plateau in the valley's midst, level except for a gentle south westward slope, whence the water is carried by open trenches. The darkness of my first day comes down. In the lighted park the circle of promenaders gravitate around the central fountain, and their laughter, mingled with the sweet music, floats upon the evening- air. So long as daylight lingers I am drawn by an irresistible attraction to the windows, to feast my unaccustomed eyes upon that huge pile of rocks and trees which darkens the west, and to let my fancy build towers and castles and turrets, to trace paths and descry shapes and figures, to fashion the whole into a flame-kissed embattlement peopled with impossible creatures, and to ' ' Give to airy nothings A local habitation and a name." "Abroad fok the Summer." — A Fashionable Kesort. The five-mile ride to Manitou, Colorado's most fash- ionable resort, is fraught with much of interest to the sight-seer. A graceful branch of the Denver and Rio Grande picks its way amid the most beau- tiful scenery. Here the red cliffs glow upon you; to the right, are inviting though aggravating glimpses of the wonders of the Garden of the Gods ; and the mountains, to which you are closer now than ever, seem to look with a kindly contempt upon the LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 123 ambitious little narrow-gauge train worming about along their feet. Tlie only stop to afford tlie engine breath is at Colorado City, the former capital of the Territory and the oldest town in the State. I use the word" town " with some hesitation, because lam in doubt as to the propriety of a group of saloons being dignified by that title. The reflection brought on by this thought is interrupted by the train's halt- ing beside the cool summer depot at Manitou, and the cries which greet you, of "Free 'bus for Barker's Hotel!" "The Mansions — right here!" "Carriage for the Cliff House, ma'am f etc. Manitou is called the " Saratoga of the West." It is a child of the Rockies ; it is picturesqueness per- sonified. It is composed chiefly of hotels — a full (in more senses than one) dozen besides those mentioned — bath-houses, summer-houses, curiosity-shops, liv- ery-stables, and restaurants. The streets wind in all directions, and seem to fairl}" enjoy the bewilderment of the new-comer, who often travels in a zig-zag cir- cle and suddenly brings up at the very place whence he started. You soon leai'n to appreciate the inhab- itants' sublime disregard for the points of the com- pass, and understand why it is that, in directing you, they always say " right" and " left" and " opposite," instead of '' north " and " south," etc. There is a little stream — " The Fontaine-qui- Bouille " — born somewhere up among the mountains, comes threadmg, and gliding, and murmuring to itself until it reaches the suburbs, and then, like any other country-reared maiden, goes hurrying noisiW through the very centre of town, blissfully conscious of the admn^ing attention bestowed from everv side. 124 NOT AT HOME. As a consequence of the winding, irregular streets, the residence lots are laid off in all shapes and at all angles. Steep stairways often ascend through the yards, which rise terrace above terrace, and some- times you must say, not " east front" or " west front," but " up front " and "down front." T thmk the state of affairs would puzzle even an El Dorado real estate agent. Imagine a perpendicular boom ! and of sell- ing town lots in a vertical position ! The little stream is crossed here and there by neat bridges in various styles of architecture ; and in this half town, half park, there are many pretty lawns, groves, tennis courts, rustic seats, shady arbors, winding- canopied walks, and out-of-the-way nooks. The bath-house, erected in 1883 at a cost of $20,000, is one of the finest buildings in Manitou. It contains twent3^-four enameled bath-tubs and one large swimming-bath room some thirty-five feet square; and has supply pipes from all the famous springs. Here, for fifty cents, one may, after a dusty day, be "made over" — born again, so to speak — clean. But by far the most interesting spot in the resort — the spot where all Avalks and lanes and streets converge — is the Springs, Navajo and the Soda. The wide, airy summer-house, in the centre of which they bubble, is filled from morning tdl night with an ever-going, ever-returning throng ; hence this is, of all places, the one in which to observe humanity in its many phases. Sit with me here upon this rustic seat in the shade, and let us look. "Abroad for the Summer?" Yes, indeed; hun- dreds and hundreds of our countrymen, and each LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 135 With his five liundred friends, scranibling for the best sleeper berths, the best opera chairs, and the best bargains, and getting the worst ; packed three and four deep in the upper rooms of summer hotels ; liv- ing all season in valises and trunks ; trying to see everything in the shortest time possible; wearing winter clothes all summer ; climbing mountains and buying views for the entertainment of friends who had the good sense to stay at home ; pajnng con- scienceless shopkeepers for "curiosities," about which tlie only thing curious is the price; going calling, drinking mineral water, gossipping, over-eating, over- sleeping, over-doing — and calling it all enjoyment ! But never mind ; they've been " abroad for the sum- mer," have met Mrs. Senator A , have dined with ex-Governor B , and it's all " too awfully delight- ful for anything" — except the pocket-book. But we are losing time, and are forgetting to observe. Lo ! here they come : " Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." First they gather around the spring, where the uniformed boy (who must be wound up and run by cogs, so tireless is he) waits upon each with the same mechanical grace. You can tell the old frequenter by the ease with which he empties glass after glass,' smacks his lips, and keeps up conversation with his companions. The first-seasoner, too, is known by certain unmis- takable signs. Sometimes the first swallow ins2:)ires a wry face, and the glass is handed back as full as it was taken. Again, one more heroic than the remainder, will bolt a whole glass, keeping steadily on and draining the last bitter drop with a "Con- 136 NOT AT HOME. quer-or-die" expression, and a self-sacrificing devo- tion worthy a better cause. Not infrequently the lirst taste brings about a series of expression as dif- ficult to analyze as the water itself. First there is a startled, bewildered expression, as if something has been experienced too perplexing for comprehen- sion. This is replaced by one of doubt and hesita- tion, as if his faith in the whole human family is receiving a terrible shaking. Then comes a milder one — a sort of " Judge-not-that'-ye-be-not-judged," " If-at-first-you-don't-succeed " expression. Then comes a second cautious taste from the glass — a full confirmation of the awful truth — and there settles down upon that countenance a look of injured wrath and high contempt that could culminate without an effort in the hurling of the glass at the head of the innocent l3oy in uniform, were it not that he has long since become insensible to expressions, and con- tinues to hand up glasses to other victims. To Avhich of the three great classes I belong, judge, O ye gods ! The throng moves by — politicians worn with the affairs of state ; over-worked statesmen, actors, and literary people ; great people, with modest dress and refined air ; and the vast army of the new rich, ever distinguishable by their display of dress and "I-own- the-world " bearing — the imitators, the snobbery. The *•' dead-head " is here five hundred strong, the " umbra " of some influential friend, a tow-boat in the wake of a ship, a parasite, a sapper, who never pays, and whose name — like Hugo's clubman in "Les Miserables" — is never heard unless preceded by the conjunction " and." LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 127 The dude is here, in all the splendor of his "Prince Albert," silk hat, cane, and eye-glass. Pie is from the East, has seasoned at Newport, Saratoga, and White Sulphur. He stares and talks languidly — but don't let's look at him. " Tlie earth hath bubbles, as the water has, And these are of them." The invalid is here, in a wheeled chair and wraps, with white hands, thin face, and dark, hollow eyes. The mother is here, with her habitually anxious face, an old campaigner from the battle-field of many a watering-place. The cause of her anxiety is here, a fit companion- piece for the dude — "wretched, unidea'd girls," "sweet and twenty," who would promenade a gravel walk around the world, if said walk were girted with eye-glasses; who appeal everything to "Papa" or "Mamma"; who are just "out"; who flutter and giggle, and go into the seventh heaven of ecstasy over everything, fi'om a stretch of mountain scenery down to a slice of angels' food. The growler is here, even here — though I fancied I had left them all behind — for whom the daj^s are too bright or too cloudj^, the baths too hot or too cold, the scenery tame, society dull, and everything in a state of up-side-downness — veritable ' ' Mark Taple3^s," who are only happy when they are miser- able. The belle of many seasons is here, sweet siren of the summer resort, mistress of herself, queen of others' hearts, a cloud of bevritching drapery, with dreamful eyes and fluttering fan. 128 NOT AT HOME. The children are here, happy under the lax con- trol of heedless nurses : '*rhe children ! they who are the only rich, Creating for the moment, and possessing Whate'er they choose to feign." Thank fortune for something wholly natural in so artful a place as a resort promenade ! The artist is here — who, like my companion there, sits with shaded eyes fastened on the overhanging mountain, unheedful just now of the great panorama of humanity revolving about the spring. " Keader mine " (as the story books say), if you wish to be classified with any of the above groups ; if you wish a life-size portrait, done in ink, and stamped with the trademark of your own peculiar- ity, come to Manitou, where satisfaction will be fully guaranteed. " I love to enter pleasure by a postern — Not the broad, popular gate that gulps the mob ; To find my theatre in roadside nooks Where men are actors and suspect it not. * * * * for wheresoe'er Ten men are gathered, the observant eye Will find the world in little, ;is the stars Glide up and set, and all the heavens revolve, In the small welkin of a drop of dew." ExcuEsioN TO South Park. Thursday, the day set apart for the Good Tem- plars' excursion to South Park, seemed from the summit of our impatience to fairly loiter along the highway of time. But she arrived at last, in time to LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 129 save her credit, just as Wednesday had slammed the back gate. However, if she did linger, the pleas- ures that she stopped to gather for us by the way more than compensated for the delay. At an early hour hacks were busy furnishing free transportation to the new Colorado Midland depot, whence the excursion was to start ; and soon the platform was crowded with eager pleasure-seekers, each equipped with lunch baskets, umbrella, field-glasses, and round- trip ticket. At 8 o'clock section two of the train, consist- ing of three coaches and an observation car, backed in, and was at once filled and side-tracked. My friend and I wisely (as it afterwards proved) waited until section one backed in. Both sections were well filled, and it was estimated that there w^ere over four hundred |2 tickets sold. Our section, which consisted of two coaches, a dining-car, and an observation car, started first; and being already filled to the brim, glided through Colorado City and Manitou, leaving number two to stop for the waiting- passengers. Leaving Manitou to the right and far below us, we begin the steep ascent. The lamps in the coaches are scarcely lighted and the windows lowered ere we enter a long tunnel, dark as Erebus, whence we emerge only to enter another. From this cave of darkness we glide into the brightness of early morn- ing among the mountains, to find ourselves upon the long iron bridge which spider-legs itself into Iron Springs. Across this we creep with breathless cau- tion, ignore the waiting excursionists at the station, round the dizzy curve of an abrupt mountain, and 4 130 NOT AT HOME. sweep into a succession of six tunnels. We have hardly time to recover from this, when the engine with a prolonged shriek starts forward, and up, up, as if possessed of a mad ambition to scale the very mountain tops ; and the train, shuddering and quiver- ing and swaying with an awful fear, winds along in its wake as though impelled by an irresistible fasci- nation. We are in the celebrated Cascade Caiion now, and are climbing to the very fountain head of the little stream which goes leaping and plunging over the rocky barriers, waving its foam-flecked hands to us at every turn. The ascent of this first four and a half miles of road is 949 feet. Across the stream the old overland stage- road follows the water's course with a brotherly tenac- ity, and so the three go parallel to the head of the caiion — the old trail, the older water-course, and the shin- ing rails of the new Midland. Once at the head, the track almost doubles itself into an abrupt curve, and with wondering surprise we look back upon the whole traversed way — forest, canon, crags, and water; and there above them all smiles the benign features of Pike's Peak, the only familiar object in this wild panorama. So we speed on, with new beauties unfolding at every turn. The rocks, Avliich in and about Colorado Springs are red, here take on the softer tints of gray and green ; pines, jutting cliffs, water-worn rocks, deep caverns, strange and beautiful flowers, singly and in ever-varied relations, diversify the mountain's sloping walls. Little cabins and tents too are seen, appearing from our height no larger than toys. LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 131 Anon we pause at a tank to appease our engine's thirst, and then climb on. So winding is our way, that Pike's Peak looks in first at one side and then at the other, as if playing at "peek-a-boo." Presently the way becomes more level. Far on we catch glimpses of new mountains, capped and veined with snow and hung with great clouds white as the fleece. "Wee lakes connected by threads of water appear by the roadside. For a long time the water hesitates, seeming in doubt which way to flow. But after " dew " consideration it concludes to go with us, and hurries along after the train as if to make up for lost time. The train itself has a less labored motion. The engine ceases to pant, and we can even hear the hiss of the brakes. The explanation of this lies back a few miles on the smoothed trunk of the giant pine tree, where appear the figures 9,200. That pine marks Hayden's Divide, and means we are breathing the pure, exhilarating atmosphere 9,200 feet above sea level. This is our highest point, and from here to where we meet the Platte Eiver the run is effortless and pleasant. Once we side-tracked half an hour to wait the regular passenger from Buena Vista. Where we stopped was a city of tents, each with its res]3ective sign : one grocery store, one lunch room, and four saloons ; the others, with the box cars, formed residences. Each saloon was marked by a large pyramid of bottles, broken and whole, at the side ; and there even seemed some rivalry as to which could boast of the largest pile of bottles. In front of one of these saloons sat a creature in 132 NOT AT BOME. men's clothing, his arms dropped limply at his side, his reddened face on his breast, too wofuUy drunk (there is no other word) to lift up his head to tlie sweet, pure tiir and bright sunlight of this perfect morning. And there he sat, a fit advertisement for the trap within and for man's weakness and sin. The friend and I looked and shook our heads, and quoted under our breath: ''They order this thing better in France" — only, of course, we meant in Kansas. The half hour was spent in gathering wild flowers and grasses, and in wandering as far as we dared from the train. At length a long whistle, which the echoes caught and prolonged strangely, announced the other train, and soon our engine ''took up its burden of life again." Before us awaits scenery to surpass all we have yet passed. We enter Eleven-mile Canon. The entrance is two narrow, perpendicular wails of gray granite, which give us but one way to look — straight up. To one of these dark, continuous walls the train clings with almost human instinct, sending forth its warning whistle to afi'right the echoes and startle animal life from its customary seclusion. Great boulders hanging to the walls glare menacingly in the windows, as much as to say, " If I should let go my slender hold what would become of jouv poor little train .<" From the windows of one side we look up the dark wall to its pine-crowned summit against the blue sky ; from the other, down into the tossing waters of the Platte, fretted by moveless rocks and fallen trees. And the rocks pile higher and wilder, grouping themselves into shapes artistic and fantastic. LETTERS FliOM COLORADO. 133 The scenery becomes rougher, more weird, more striking. New forms and combinations await our every move, until, weary of inadequate speech, we sink into the golden silence of awe. Thus for eleven miles. Then there opens before us a wide expanse, tree-studded and begirt by mountains, and the train, with accelerated speed, skims along " a streamlet In the middle of the meadow; By a streamlet still and tranquil, Where, knee deep, the trees are standing; Where the water-lilies floated, Where the rushes waved and whispered." We pass the steam-shovel at work loading cars with gravel ; pass the dug-outs of the laborers, and pass the long sheds of Hartsel's Ranch. Two miles further and we halt at Hartsel's Station, our destina- tion, at exactly 1 o'clock v. m., after a seventy- mile ride. We spent the first hour at dinner, some going up among the pines to enjoy luncheon in true picnic style ; soine going to Hot Springs Hotel ; others, like ourselves, preferring the cool of the cars, where ice cream, lemonade, and California fruits were served in addition to lunch. We then strayed np to the hotel for a cup of coffee — and right here I want the devouring envy of all my readers ; for it is not every mortal who is privileged to drink a 25-cent cup of coffee 8,500 feet above sea level. Having cooled our faces in the crystal brook we proceeded to climb Hot Springs Butte for a view of surrounding country. Hot Springs Butte is the lower of the two points of Hartsel's Bluffs. Pano- 184 NOT AT HOME. rama, 9,200 feet above sea level, is the higher. The two are separated by " the romantic, shach^, but waterless twilight glen." The hotel and station lie to the left ; the bath house to the right, with the river below at our very feet ; eastward Pike's Peak still watches over us ; to the north and west, moun- tains Yale and Harvard, Mount Democrat (moss-cov- ered, of course). Horse Shoe Mountain, and Alpine Pass. The magnificence and scope of the view repay our breathless scramble, and we sit down beneath the shade of a huge rock to draw the distance to us at leisure with field-glasses. We wander on down the other side — the friend to the river, I to the shadow of a pine, which has strewn the slope far around with cones for many a year. And here I sit, tossing pebbles down the slope, and dreaming the happy hours away. ' ' Very hot and still the air is, Very smooth the gliding river. Motionless the sleeping shadows; Insects glisten in the sunshine. Fill the drowsy air with buzzing, With a far-resounding war cry." But time flies, and soon the two short signal whistles from our engine tell that it is 3:-15 o'clock, with fifteen minutes before starting back. Our return has already been delayed an hour by the late arrival of section two, a coach of which mysteri- ously jumped the track some miles back. No one had been hurt, and they had come m time for some of the precious coffee and as much of the mountains as had not been chipped away into specimens. LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 135 Now at the prearranged signals, the four hundred come scrambling down to the station from all sides, laden with flowers, rocks, etc.; and as we get under headway such talking and laughing, and exchanging of experiences and specimens and luncheons— and how, from the observation car, '' Hush, little baby, don't you cry," " There's one more river to cross," and " White wings" float up and come back to us again from the re-echoing walls ! At a small station we meet a heavy local freight too long for the siding. Here our already belated train is delayed a full hour to witness a complication of switching ; so that by the time we are off again, plunging into the gorges ahead, and swinging from height to dizzier height, " The sun goes down, and the shades of night Come up from the vale, and the pine trees tall, The old gray roeks, and the water fall Grow dusky and dim 'gainst the cloud-riram'd skies, And night, like a pall, on the mountain lies." Then it is that a ride at the rear end of the obser- vation car, Avith hat secure, hands firm holding the trusty iron railing, and heart open to receive Nature's teachings, proves the best experience of the day. As we go rushing through the canon, over tressels, round curves, up grade and down grade, through tunnels, past hamlet, river, and pine, with the sum- nier moon brightening and whitening all, I think in my inmost heart : Sureh^, one reared among such surroundings, in the loneliness and silence and sublim- ity of the mountains ; where the solitary cliff rises to meet the sky, and where the awful storm king 136 NOT AT HOME. spends his wrath ; where the unrelenting finger of time seams the rough mountains with caverns and gulfs; where fancy has unlimited scope, width, height, and depth ; where ' 'Lie deep, 'neath a silcuce pure and smooth. These burnt-out craters, healed with snow "; surely, 'mid such surroundings as these, where the Creator has symbolized His own eternal grandeur, man has — must have— a higher conception of his Maker than he who is conlined all his life to the narrow city streets and the carpeted aisles of a low- roofed church I Here, with grasses for pathways, mountains for walls, and the heaven for room, the great spirit may breathe, and expand, and grow large and clean, and lift itself up, still up, nearer for- ever to the Author of al'. Surely I have not known God and Nature before ! Cheyenne Canon. — Helen Hunt's Gkave. Yesteeday morning, as the friend sat near the window yawning over her sketch-book, and I at the table divided my time between letter- writing and pressing odd-shaped leaves, the clouds, which all forenoon had hung like a canopy over the city, sud- denly broke to pieces and fell apart, letting the sun pencil lines of light through the front windows. We had been confined to the four walls of our room all morning by the rain. The tall trees, dripping and mournful, had darkened the windows. Our friend the sun had been hidden : and even Pike's Peak had LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 137 pulled the damp sack-cloth over his head, and, unseen, mourned 'mid the universal gloom. We had been silent and unsociable for some hours, each at her own absorbing task. But now, as the clouds lifted, the friend rested thoughtfully on her pencil a moment, and then broke the silence : "Why not visit Cheyenne Caiion this afternoon?" So said, so done. 'Twere but quick work to sweep aside letters and leaves, pack sketch-book, note-book, pencils and luncheon, equip ourselves in loose dresses, mountain shoes, and gossamers, and walk around to the palatial livery-stable on Cucharras Street, to order horse and buggy. While we were listening to direc- tions as to the road, a gentleman entered the office to ask if he could join a party that afternoon to visit Cheyenne Canon — himself, wife, and sister. So we joined our fortunes for the remainder of the day, the five of us ; which number, with the driver, just filled a three-seated carriage. We started at 1 o'clock, a very ceremonious and proper set ; and we might have been " strangers yet" but for the golden emblem of our State (God save the mark !). We were passing a field where these yellow ghosts of Clytia stood dripping and shivering, but still lifting their loyal heads to the sun. Some one leaned forward and murmured: "Ah, that's the first natural thing I've seen !" And some one echoed, " Yes," Some one else said — "Then you're from Kansas?" And all echoed "Yes, are you?" "Yes," "Yes," followed by a general laugh. Our companions proved to be Mr. and Mrs. Campbell and Mrs. Sexton, of Minneapohs, Kansas, and very pleasant people too. 138 NOT AT HOME. The treacherous clouds had no sooner gotten us two or three miles into the tangled roads of the foot- hills, than they came upon us again, and laughed till they cried at the way we hustled out gossamers and buttoned down side curtains. But "Never stand aside for trifles," some writer says; "let them do that honor to you." So, calling on our Kansas grit, we "kept our hands to the plough" — and turn back we didn't. A five-mile ride from Colorado Springs led us to the entrance of the famous South Cheyenne Canon. Here leaving the carriage and our hats, we hooded ourselves in gossamers, and with umbrellas in our hands and determination in our eyes, we entered into the afternoon's pleasures and the canon at the same time. At the first of the hundred turns we made, we encountered the mountain stream, which flows through a zig-zag course, dashing from side to side like an imprisoned creature, being met each time by an unyielding wall of rock a thousand feet high. As a consequence of this erratic course we crossed the stream eleven times by means of smoothed logs. On these we invariably paused to look through the transparent waters at the pebbled bed below. But if we looked below too much we lost the beauties and wonders around and above us. The turns v/ere so abrupt that looking back we could see no trace of the seam by which we had entered ; looking forward we could see no exit ; and looking up the two gray walls to the grayer sky, it did indeed seem that we were Nature's prisoners. So gradually were the surprises developed before us, that the result as a whole could scarcely be appre- LETTERS FROM COLORADO. lau ciated. Language fails. "VVe took enough luncheon, but must have forgotten to pack our adjectives. And ^ve did not so painfully realize our loss until we stood midway upon the last bridge and lifted won- dering faces to the falls above us. The stream makes a fall of 500 feet at this point (three-quarters of a mile from entrance), in seven distinct leaps, known as the Seven Falls. The deep circular well in which the fourth leap terminates looked bottom- less through the misty veil of rain spray, and, we were told, receives only the rays of the noonday sun. When ^ve had looked many minutes from the centre of the bridge the guide asked if we cared to go up to the grave 'i Go away from Cheyenne Canon without visiting Helen Hunt's grave ? Not after we had braved the elements that far ! So, with the guide in the lead, we all filed up the wooden stairway of 260 steps, which ascend parallel with the descending sheets of water. It was no small matter, that climb; and the stoutest of us stopped often for reasons other than to admire the cascade. On Wei ground again for a moment, we crossed the even stream where it slides along above the highest fall ; and then commences the most serious part of the ascent, the scramble up the face of Cheyenne Mountain. The narrow foot-path weaves and doubles itself in and out, back and forth, but up ever. The loose gravel and wet sand furnish an insecure foothold, with only an occasional bush to reach down a helping hand. And with our one hand for satchel and the other for long-suffering (in more senses than one) skirts, it would seem to require more limbs than four to keep the "■after-thought of 1-iU NOT AT HOME. creation " in anything like a perpendicular position. But we set our teetli firmly, and tried to do likewise with our feet, and, with a grim, l^apoleonic, " There- are-no-Alps !" sort of feehng, struggled on. We reached the top, we did. What mattered the sandy, wet shoes, the clay-fringed skirts, the chopping hair, the weariness? "The end crowns the work." And there we stood, 'neath the dripping pines of old Cheyenne Mountain, looking down with pride upon the seven misty falls, tlie winding gorge, and the valley beyond — more than 8,000 feet above his majesty the Ocean ! Only a step or two further to the right and we stood beside the grave of Helen Hunt Jackson, the well-known author, whose choice of this spot for a last resting-place was inspired by her loving admira- tion of the region. Reverently Ave bent above it to read the many inscribed cards left among the stones and flowers which mark the grave, each busy with her own thoughts. Somehow, a thought of the author's own kept revolving itself in my mind. She has said somewhere that there are nine places of worship in and around Colorado Springs, and goes on to mention the eight churches of the city, naming Cheyenne Canon as the ninth place of worship. As I stood there in the wind and rain, while the "dark rack drove o'er head," the great mountains seemed changed to cathedral walls, the thunder of the falls to tlie roll of organ music, and the savage rocks and pines to a congregation, waiUng above the bier of their sister worshiper, LETTERS FROM COLORADO. U\ " Call it not vain ; they do uot err Wlio say that when tlie poet dies Mute nature mourns her worshiper And celebrates the obsequies." The descent of our traversed path we found much easier than the ascent. (Writer's sign-board : '"Look for nioraL") We just set our heels in the sand, held our breath (what little we had), shut our eyes, and when we opened them — lo! we were down, standing at the head of the Falls, ready for those 200 steps, which seemed child's play to us now. First we drank of the pure, cold water above the Falls, and I poured back half my cup as a libation to the presiding Naiad, that she might deal mercifully with us for trespassing upon her nymph-ship's sacred domain. As a direct consequence, we reached not only the foot of the stairs, but the mouth of the canon in safety, just as I knew we Avould after I did that. And, since it was still raining, and we still "Heard the footsteps of the thunder, Saw the red eyes of the lightning," we took a circuitous and leisurely ride back to the Springs, laden with specimens and rare flowers. To-morrow at 5:30 a. m. we, the same party, are to start for Seven Lakes, which is twenty-two miles on our road to Pike's Peak. We will be gone two days ; so until we return you must endeavor to bear both the suspense as to the fate of our venturesome party, and the absence of my pennings. 142 NOT A T HOME. To Pike's Peak via Seven Lakes. Yes, I am back from the Pike's Peak scramble, and, after a brief rest, " Richard's liimself again," save that he is wiser and browner than he Avas three days ago. Last Monday morning by 6:30 our party was ready to start on the twenty-two-mile ride to the Seven Lakes. The party consisted of Mr. and Mrs. J. Camp- bell, Mrs. Alice Sexton, and Mr. Scott Burn em, of Minneapolis, Kansas ; Miss Addie Jones, of Topeka ; the friend and myself, besides Davis, the driver. The excursion wagon selected for the trip was built especially for mountain roads ; with so much stress upon great strength, in connection with light- ness, it would seem that no one part would give way alone, but would " run a hundred years to a day," and then all go at once, like the wonderful " One-hoss- Shay." The team, a pair of sinewy roans, was built very much on the same plan. The wagon was equipped with springs, three cushioned seats, a stout brake, canopy top, water- proof side curtains, and storm blankets. Then each occupant had a lunch basket, small valise, gossamer, mountain shoes, heavy wraps, colored glasses, and books for pressing flowers. Escorting the wagon were two sure-footed bronchos, the one with a lady's, the other with a gentleman's saddle, each with a rubber coat, and pouch at side for specimens. These were a pleasant necessity, as but six could comfort- ably occup3^ the carriage seats at once, and because the frequent changingf rom the seats to the bronchos — or even to occasional walking — afforded rest. With such an outfit, and on an exceptionally pleasant morn- LETTERS FROM VOLORABO. 14:) ing, we skimmed the foot-hills, passed the toll-gate, and began the ciscent of Cheyenne Mountain. "Away, away ! our jovial baud Will seek, will seek the raountalu land, And sliare, 'mid haunts of elk and deer, Fresh air and hunter's cheer. Where towering cliffs and cedars green Are seen, our tireless feet Will oft those wind-swept summits gain, The rising sun to greet.' But in order to gain those wind-swept summits, considerable climbing and panting had to be done. Many times at the begimiing of a rocky and almost perpendicular climb all would alight, even to the driver. Then he would loosen the brake, throw the check-reins over the horses' necks, and, walking beside them, urge them with voice and whip to strain their already quivering muscles to reach the top. And the readiness with which they bent to the task, with wide nostrils and throbbing sides, won the sympathizing admiration of all. Meantime we would scout about through the pines, fallen logs, and undergrowth for what might be found; and at the top would compare our collections of bright leaves, handfuls of berries, sparkling stones, exquisite flowers, or perhaps a baby bird or vari-c )lored butterfly, afterwards released. And sometimes, " Up the oak tree close beside us Sprang tlie squirrel, Adjidaumo, In and out among the branches, Coughed and chattered from the oak tree; And the rabbit from our pathway Leaped aside, and at a distance Sat erect upon his haunches, Half in fear and half in frolic." 144 NOT A T lIOMhJ. Mountain streams were numerous, and anywhere w^e could fill our tin cups by the roadside. By 10 o'clock we reached a large ranch w4th its log cabin in the valley. Here we stopped briefly to water the horses and to shift places. And here for the first time in my life I mounted a broncho. We had scarcely quitted the ranch and gained a half-way point up the next height in advance of the wagon, when, with just one warning shout of thunder, a mountain storm burst upon us. !Not in the least disconcerted, but with rubbers buttoned closely from head to toe, we urged the dripping bronchos forw^ard to the shelter of a roadside pine, and there enjoyed this new experi- ence until the wagon, with close-fastened curtains, came up wdth us. It was something almost grand to see the purple clouds come rolling blackly just overhead ; to see all mountaindom, save crag and pine, bow before the driving rain ; to see a peak to the left of us w^rapped in gray mist, while another just beyond smiled in the sunshine ; and w^hen the rain changed to hail, to see the stems about us shed- ding leaf and blossom, to hear the footsteps of the storm clattering above, around, and below us among the rocks ; and later, to look through the w^hite and silver drops to the brightness of the clearing sky ! At 12:30 we stopped for dinner near a recently deserted mining camp, where we found a spring, thick shade, a table, stool — and plenty of empty bottles. Beaver Park was the next point of interest after ^ve broke camp. It is a wdde opening between heights, is well supplied with water, grass, and shade ; and here the Pales watch over their many flocks in LETTEllS FROM COLORADO. 145 safety. Across this valle}", and we came to what are termed the "Stairs," a steej?, narrow wagon road winding spirally to the left of the densely wooded mountain. The " air line " distance of twelve miles doubles and coils itself into twenty-two picturesque miles ere the Seven Lakes are reached. The scenery is excelled only by that skirting the Midland route to South Park. This drive had an advantage over the ride to Hartsel's, in that the scenery unfolded itself more slowly to the observer's eye. Again Nature appears in all her moods ; now smiling from a flower-strewn bank or murmuring from a hidden, grass-draped brook, now frowning from black and broken cliffs, or moaning hoarsely from her gloomy pines. Down the sides of many of the mountains we saw the deso- lated path of the snow-slides, the great pines bleached and branchless, the worn stones, all, all lying prone in the track, while the dense green forest on either side marked the way more plainly. Nor was this all. The Avhole region through which we passed had been at some time visited by forest fires, as the charred and lifeless tree-trunks testified ; and what the fires had left had fallen victim to the merciless tornado. But the 3"0ung pines and oaks and quaking- asps whispered and waved among these witnesses of Nature's wrath, and the new green everywhere spoke of hope and resurrection. Up the "' Stairs," over tw^o more heights, and we caught our first glimpse of Seven Lakes. They lie, these limpid Pleiades, in a semi-circle in the valley, reaching bare crystal arms, the one to the other. The valley itself is circular, shut in on all sides by 146 NOT AT HOME. huge mountain piles, the venerable Bald Mountain on the east. The rise from Colorado Springs (which is more than 5,000 feet above sea level) to Seven Lakes is 6,100 feet ; so you will not wonder when I tell you that the more shadowed of these lakes are partly covered with ice the year around. Our party, somewhat fatigued by the eleven hours' ride, hailed the first view of the destination with exclamations of relief and satisfaction. We dropped as if by magic down into a level road; and the horses, lifting their drooping heads, drew us rapidly along the fence which enclosed large droves of ponies and burros, along the largest of the lakes, where rocked a small boat, and u]) before the large, three-story log hotel, which has a monopoly on the patronage, it being the only house in all the valley. In the parlor, with its bare oaken floor and white- washed walls, we warmed our aching toes and lin- gers at the spacious fireplace, piled high with crack- ling pine logs, and then out into the porch and yard to enjo}^ the twilight. The lake that kissed the grassy edges of the yard rippled back to the mountain's foot, mirroring the sky, and " from a visionary shore Hung visioned trees, that more and more Grew dusk as those above were dimmed." The sun had long since hidden his face behind the crest of the western mountain, and those of us who had good eyes could discern Yenus, his faithful fol- lower, glistening in the bright sky, and Jupiter higher and fainter. LETTERS ?'ROM COLOItADO. . 147 "There, as the flaming Occident Burned slowly down to ashes gray, Night pitched o'erhead her silent tent, And glimmering gold from Hesper sprent Upon the darkened valley lay." As we stood absorbing the beauties of the twilight, one of the gent'emen stepped to the margin of the lake, and, lifting his face to Bald Mountain, and holding his hands about his lips like a trumpet sent forth a rich, musical "' Ah ! " The result was wonder- ful. The immediate mountains caught the cry, with an echo but little fainter. Tlien the distant and more distant ones repeated it, until it whispered itself into far silence — '' Ah, a — h, a-h ] " " Oh, hark! oh, hear! how thin and clear. And thinner, clearer, farther going, From near and far, from cliff and scar. The horns of elf-land faintly blowing! Blow, bugle! let us hear the purple glens replying; Answer, echoes! dying — dying — dying!" While we were listening to the repeated experi- ment, before we yielded to the cold and returned indoors, some one said, " Look at the east ! " Every face was uplifted to the eastern heights, and we saw the trees and rocks grow clear-edged against the white light that flooded the east. The light grew brighter. The mountain spires behind us were tipped with silver. " All the air was white with moonlight, All the waters black with shadows." Then on a sudden, over the ragged, broken summit of that eastern pile, 148 NOT AT HOME. •' the moon, * * * rising in cloudy majesty. Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw." The Climb to the Suivimit. " One after one the stars had risen and set, Sparkling upon the hoarfrost on the grass ; The Bear, that prowls all night about the fold Of the North-star, had slunk into the den, Scared by the blithesome footsteps of the Dawn," when there came a gentle (:') tapping at our room door, and a voice said : " It is 4:30, and breakfast and the burros are ready." I hadn't slept five minutes, I know I hadn't — just long enough to pass the toll-gate of an icy dream, and fancy myself sitting sideways on Pike's Peak, looking in awe up to the pinnacle of a Colorado burro — when I found myself seated bolt upriglit, drawing the blankets about my shivering form, and murmuring a dazed response to the voice outside, " It is easy," says an ancient wit, " to make up your mind to rise early, but not so your body." I tried, as I iaced my size-and-a-half-too-large mountain shoes, and chattered through the remain- ing (small in comjiarison) part of an extraordinary toilet, to console myself with the thought that seven other dreams, as ])oetical, perhaps, as mine, had been stopped in an intei*esting place, and that seven other mortals Avere dropping combs from stiff fingers, exhausting their interjections (if nothing worse), and wishing that night clerk were himself on the summit LETTERS FUOM COLORADO. 149 of Pike's Peak rather than stumbling around that time of night to get them there. In little more than half an hour we five ladies, cloaked and veiled and gloved and delighted, stepped from the cheery fireplace out into the porch, where, in the front vard, the locomotive power of the excur- sion stood ready saddled. The burro has been called the " elevator of the Kocky Mountains." He can carry as many and as much as can, by hook or crook, be made to stay on his shaggy back. Cabins, ranches, and hotels, among the Kockies, are largely supplied by burro trains. He is not above carrying baled hay, furniture, lum- ber, fuel, provisions, etc., etc.; not above, for he is usually below such things, though you can see little save two lini}), ^vabbly ears and four pipe-like legs. The huge pack-saddles and trappings are loads of themselves. He can scramble up the face of a rock, and cling to the meagerest footing with goat-like surety. His sure-footedness and patient endurance make up what he lacks of beauty and swiftness. His jaws are insensible to the severest bit, and his tough hide to the keenest whip. He has a will of his own ; and should it clash with yours, you ma}'- as well save time and let him do as he pleases. It's a hopeless case. He'll do it in the end. With a burro against " a lord of creation," I'll pin my faith to the burro every time, though my sympathies might be with the " lord." He is small — back of his ears. Our Kansas dogs might mistake him for a jack rabbit. But they would never do it but once. Of his voice Ingersoll says : ' It is the nightingale of Colorado. Its range of voice is limited, consisting, 150 NOT AT HOME. indeed, of only two notes ; but the amount of elo- (juence, the superb quality, the deep resonance and flexible sinuosity which can be thrown by this nat- ural musician into such a small compass are tremen- dous." There being a large demand for burros for the day, our party was furnished with two bronchos to complete the desired number of animals — real live bronchos ; the kind that have a pretty fashion of dropping their heads between their fore-feet and sending their hind-feet on harmless little flights through the air. One of them gave a free exhibition of his abilities in this line as he was led from the stables, whereupon our three lady acquaintances declared that they'd rather walk than to ride that creature. They, in fact, had never been in saddles before, and were assigned to burros ; I was given the aforementioned broncho, while the friend was assisted to the back of his mate, a young, restless- eyed, inexperienced creature, which afterwards proved itself weak and unfit for the rocky terrors of Pike. The saddles on all the burros were fur- nished with neck and breast-straps to prevent them from slipping back. The bronchos' saddles had simply the broad double girt. Perhaps the few early risers about the hotel were accustomed to seeing such parties start, for they only smiled and wdiispered among themselves as we filed out the gate. But I struggled hard to retain my grav- ity as I looked back over that line. If you could have seen those lop-eared, stupid little burros, some mounted— covered, I should say — by the timid ladies, who kept a desperate grip on bridle and saddle-horn, LETTERS EEOM COLORADO. 151 when nothing short of a Kansas cyclone could have urged the creatures out of their cautious, mincing- walk ; some bestrode by the gentlemen, who perforce held up their feet from the dewy grass ; if you could have seen the umbrellas at various angles, the awk- ward attitudes, the ludicrous, despairing anxiety on otherwise happy, expectant faces — the picture as a whole, front view, as I had it — you too would have surprised the guide with a laugh that would no longer be repressed. The guide was none other than our knight of the whip and brake, Davis, than whom a more conscientious and careful driver and more faithful and efficient guide never drove 'round breath-snatch- ing curves or piloted a party among rocks. lie escorts parties to the summit many times each season ; has climbed from Seven Lakes to the Peak (five miles) in a little more than two and a half hours ; and therefore, scorning both burro and broncho, strode along before us, whi})ping off leaves with his walking-stick, and answering all our questions v»atli rare masculine patience. The party filed briskl}^ through the first pass, into a narrow valley betangled with under-brush and threaded by swift streams, every one in full enjoy- ment of the chill morning air and beautiful scenery. Each leaf, stem, and flower had donned its brightest dress and clearest diamonds in honor of our own early rising. Pine and oak looked approvingly down from the walls of the pass. The clouds smiled congratulation. All Nature seemed vocal with her worshiper's words : 152 NOT AT HOME. " You'vo got to get up early If you wuut to lake in God." Out of the pass, and leaving Bear Creek trail to the right, we came to what the guide called a hill, from whose high top was unfolded to our view heretofore unseen mountains, peak on cloud-capped peak, with that giant, our objective point, over- topping all. '• Hun-all, good friends, behold the view, Those summits tinged with heaven's own blue! And 'mid the clouds they proudly stand As monarchs of the laud. Come on! our hearts with newer life Beat high; this world is passed — This lower world of wearing strife; "We're near the skies at last! A council of war was held on top the hill, and, following the advice of our guide, it was decided to leave the Seven Lakes trail and charge the rock}^ steep to the right, along whose top our eyes could thread the Manitou trail. We asked no questions as to the reason for leaving our trail, but followed the guide with a sublime and why-less faith. It was found almost impossible to turn the burros from the trail, while the bronchos went clattering up the stony steep with more ambition than judg- ment. For when, after a long scramble and frequent resting, the party reassembled on the Manitou trail, the bronchos' sides Avere throbbing i^ainfully, and their speaking eyes looked weary and wistful ; while the burros searched about among the stones for the stray spears of grass with supremest unconcern. We were now far above .imber-line. The grass had all LETTERS FROM COLORADO. ms but disappeared. The sun looked down upon us cold and bright, and clouds began to roll around and above us. '' The north wind is full of courage, and puts the stamina of endurance into a man," and a woman too ; for I found, as the altitude increased, as the wind blew keener, and as the way grew more toilsome and dangerous, that my spirits rose proportionally, and the mere desire to climb, to overcome, to mount, to surmount, became the ruling passion. My horse seemed to catch the spirit. In spite of his capers of the early morning one could not, at the time, fail to recognize the sagacity, the high, unbending spirit, and the stubborn persistence so necessary to such a journey. He was my choice from the first, and he made good the choice thrice over. So soon as he recognized that play-time and the easy climbing had passed, he settled to his work most gallantly, bend- ing all his energies to the selection of the most acces- sible foot-holds which the bristling rocks afforded. There was but little choice. One vast, unbroken pile of broken rocks rose before us ; and scarcely was one height surmounted when another, steeper and more frowning than the last, leaped up in our pathway. Great, bare, sharp-edged boulders Avere piled everywhere, and the faint line of a path twisted md zig-zagged beside and under them in all directions so angularly that a few lengths would carry those ahead of me out of sight. Thus, often could I easily fancy myself alone on that desolate mountain ; and climbing silently on and on, with nothing in my ears but the panting of my weary horse and the whistle of the increasing wind, and nothmg before my 154 NOT AT HOME. immediate eyes save acres upon acres of b^o^vn rocks, I could send my imagination forth into ^vider, deeper, higher bounds than it had ever known. ' ' Myself was lost — Gone from me like an ache; and what remaiu'd Became a part of the univei'sal space"; and I could feel my life expand to try these new limits, and grow purer as that keen wind went searching through for whatsoe'er there was amiss. Then suddenly the sound of human voices would dissipate ' ' The consciousness that seemed but now dissolved Into an essence rarer than its own, And I was narrowed to myself once more." "We had passed the last vestige of green. The snow lay heavih^ crusted on ever3'thing except where, slightly melted, it converted our path into a stream, freezing as it ran. and rendering progress almost impossible. Climbing now became not only a grave, a serious matter, but one of undeniable danger. The animals could flounder upward but a few ste])s at a time, and then, clinging in a slanting and pain- ful position, would wait, without the riders' bidding, to catch their breath again. Often we would dis- mount and walk, to start the benumbed and sluggish circulation. But wet feet and want of breath would soon drive us to our saddles again. The faces of the party were as blue and pinched as if it were a winter day. It were easy to fancy that the months were out on a mad frolic and that we poor mortals were their playthings ; that August, weary of such common LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 155 toys, had tossed us up the mountain out of her way, and that December had run down to pick us up, to breathe upon us and to try his powers at trans- hguration. " Down swept the chill wind from the mountain peak, From the snow five thousand summers old ; On open wold and boulder bleak, It had gathered all the cold i And whirled it like sleet on the wanderer's cheek." But there is always another than the gloomy side of a picture. Delicate flowers of purple and of white smiled sweetly and reassm'ingly from the very edges of the snow. Occasional birds, the like of which we never saw before, hopped about us, sending their strange, shrill call out over the wide waste. And best of all — the ever-changing, ever-broadening view, the long line of the diminishing valley, the pines and clouds beneath us, the white crest of the Snowy Range seemingly on our level, and, Avithal. that grati- fying feeling of surmounting every obstacle, of trampling them beneath our feet ! Presently there was a shout ahead, and tearing our eyes from the backward scenery Ave beheld the fore- most of our party upon the summit, waving what should have been "A banner with tliis strange device — Excelsior ! " No rest now, mv faithful broncho: no laffirinir for breath or scenery, no waiting for loiterers I Up we go — scrambling, clinging, slipping, but mounting. Just a little further, just another effort hke the last I And here we are — on the summit of our hearts' 156 NOT AT ROME. desire — at last. The exultation of that one moment were worth a climb tenfold more difficult, with all the toil and breathlessness and discouragement. Dismounting, we passed at once to the United States Signal Station to regale ourselves on hot coffee (25 cents per cup) beside a red-hot stove. Having thawed somewhat, we learned m brief that this sta- tion was built in 1882, though the place as an obser- vation point is much older ; that the telegraph line from the peak down was recently sold for $10, though it cost the Government more than $1,000 (it was impossible tokeejD it up in winter); that reports are sent to Washington monthly; that the stove, fuel, supplies, mail, etc., for the station are carried by burro trains ; that the wind often blows at the rate of 132 miles per hour; that the thermometer often falls 10 deg. below zero ; that sometimes observers can see 100 miles — so said a poster, for the benefit of the ''tenderfoot." I have sat in the shade of a magnolia tree, shel- tered from the ardent beams of a January sun, flowers at my feet, birds and insects all about me. And here was the opposite, the antipodes of such experience. Now I stood sheltered from the bleak north wind of August, snow at my feet, wrapped in huge cloak and shawl, dreariness and iciness all about me — 14,147 feet above the level of the sea. View Feom the SuMMrr of Pike's Peak. — The Descent. The view from the summit of Pike's Peak is a surprise and a deliglit to even those reared amid LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 157 mountain scenery. The top, much of a peak as it appears, is an almost level waste of seventy acres of wildly scattered rocks. I know of nothing with which to compare it. It is the dreariest, most lonely and desolate spot I ever stood upon. Hocks — brown, bare, cruel, sterile, rugged— rocks, rocks, everywhere. Wind, rain, frost, snow, time, have all wrought upon this pile in vain. All combined, they have only worn S(mie sharp edges smooth and settled them more firmly in their beds. But the view ! Come stand on this dizzy rock and feast your eyes. I^orthward Gray's Peak lifts its rival head, and nortliwestward the green hollow of South Park can be plainly seen. From south to west the Snowy Range seems one continuous line of white, with the purple clouds rising and falling below it, like a sea striving to reach high-tide mark. South- ward we looked upon Bald Mountain, over two thousand feet below. Eastward across the vast ])lains the eye seemed to find no limit. Just below us, twelve airy miles, lay Colorado Springs, its well- laid streets and avenues dividing the darker blocks, looking like a giant's checker-board. The courses of the Platte and the Arkansas seemed monster ser- pents winding across the prairie land. On clear, days Denver may be seen, eighty miles to the north, and Pueblo as many to the south. But on this morning a faint mist made all things appear indistinct and unreal, as if jealous that ISTature should be so careless of her most choice objects. By aid of the excellent glass at Uncle Sam's Signal Station, new objects revealed themselves ; and so absorbed were we with the novelty of position and indescribable 158 NOT AT HOME. beauties of scenery that not until the guide came to say that the others of the party had been gone some twenty minutes did we reahze how time was flying. With a last look at that boundless eastward view we left the sheltered door of the station, and, drawing our heavy wraps around us, picked our Avay over to the stables, where the horses stood shivering under their blankets. Our watches were holdmg up their warning hands to 10 when the guide, after a close examination of our horses' feet, girths, and trappings, announced everything ready for the descent. That descent ! I hope I have not exhausted your patience nor my vocabulary, for I shall need the strongest samples of each for the going down. In ascending, you have always a height just ahead from which something new is to be seen, and to surmount which will bring you nearer to the object of your climbing. But in descending you lack that mental stimulus. Your de- sire has been gratified. The eye has been fed upon Avhat the memory will be long in digesting. You look not up to inviting heights, but down awful, rugged, pathless steeps, *' With the misty earth below you, And tlie reeling skies above you." The wind was still blowing a gale, but the snow had melted more freely since our ascent, and the path was now a rushing stream, full of clay-colored water-falls that almost obliterated what little foot- hold there had been. I believe I am ordinarily courageous ; but I confess that as I paused upon the LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 159 verge of that downward path my heart sank within me at the prospect. My horse had proven himself a good chmber ; but now, as I sat back in the saddle and tried to aid him by holding him up, the severity of the bits made him toss his head and fret ; and so, unable to pick his steps, he would go clattering down among the rocks, as often out of the path as in it. Then he would stop with a snort, and pull on the bits, and get his four iron-shod feet back into the path with as much dispatch as I would permit. What was the matter? My friend and the guide were already three or four turns below me, and I was losing time. At last "an idea struck me." Why not give the horse full rein and let him go? Running to meet dangers half way and grappling them is the only true way to meet them anyhow. Then somethino- of the old spirit repossessed me, and I thought— " He who fears the chasm's edge, . Were never the one to see The torment and the triumph hid Where the deep surges be." Tying a knot in the long rein with benumbed fingers, and throwing it over the horn of the saddle, I "touched not and handled not," but let him go! And he went. With a long sigh, Avhich seemed to say, " You poor ignoramus from the prairie country, why couldn't you have done that long ago?" he stretched his neck down and went about hi's work with the air of one who has been doubted and is anxious to prove himself. Swiftly, but oh! how cai-efully did h« measure the way,"' setting his feet 160 NOT AT HOME. one before the other through narrows, cautiously tilting an insecure stone before bearing his weight upon it, in and out, and down, down, all in such a masterful way that from at first seeing nothing but a drooping head and a mass of brown rocks, I grew into the full enjoyment of the scenes unfolding and changing below and around me. At this rate I soon overtook the other two. The guide smiled as I came up — or rather down — and said : "I thought you'd get along all right, or I'd have waited. He's been up here before. But just watch this one ;" and he started the friend's horse, keeping close to its side the while. Such an exhibition of awkwardness I have seldom seen. The horse, a pen- sive, spiritless, weary creature, seemed wholly indif- ferent as to its own or its rider's safety, holding no higher notion of duty and responsibility than to just keep its feet going. Often its fore-feet would be in the watery path, its hind-feet on a ledge at the side, and it would seem literally to stand on its silly head. At one such performance the stirrup-strap broke. Three times on the steepest path it gave way, and the third time was replaced by one of my stirrups (for my horse had been saddled for a gentleman). My friend bore it all with the heroic patience engen- dered only in the school-room, until, coming to an unusually abrupt place, her horse made a sudden wheel, and landed himself on a flat rock at the side and several feet above. I laughed in spite of myself at the stupid way in which he stood sprawled out just as he had landed ; at the idiotic stare he fastened on my trusty steed as he skillfully took what he had refused; and at the look of supreme disgust depicted LET! ERS FROM COLORADO. 161 on my friencrs face, as she informed the guide that she preferred to walk to the valley, where she hoped the animal could keep his feet. We soon left the trail, the guide mounting the refused horse ; and the way he went dashing over the foot-hills was a caution — to stubborn bronchos. Remounting again on level ground, the friend and I had an uneventful ride in, while the guide took a short cut to the hotel, so as to have the team ready for the homeward journey. We soon overtook the remainder of the party, and chatting and laughing over the happenings of the day, we reached Seven Lakes by I o'clock. We had stood the trip well, the guide told us ; no one had grown faint, dizzy-headed, or sea-sick, as so many do. And especially were those ladies to be congratulated who had taken their first horseback ride to the sum- mit of Pike's Peak. Before leaving the hotel the fol- lowing itemized bill was thrust under our weary eyes : For breathing full breath within radius of 100 yards of house |1 75 For looking at stars before sunset, at 75 cents per look 2 25 For warming both feet at one time, at $3 per foot 4 00 For wearing off whitewash, at 50 cents per square inch 1 00 For using organ, at $1 per song 2 50 For asking questions, at 1-2 cent per question.. . 1 22^ For saying " Oh, I'm so tired !" at 25 cents per say 2 50 For privilege of returning at some future time. . 8 42^ Total .$23 65 We paid it. 163 NOT AT HOME, Rainbow Falls. — Grand Caverns. — Garden op THE GODF, The day after our return from Seven Lakes, a party of three of us started on our last tour of investigation and pleasure ere our morrow's depart- ure from Colorado Springs. Disregarding the train which runs hourly to Manitou, we secured carriage and driver and were soon rolling along the broad, tree-fringed road which leads to the resort, via Col- orado City, Pausing only for brief refreshment at the Iron Springs, which terminate one of Manitou's pleasant, bewildering streets, we entered the Ute Pass. This road derives its name from the Ute Indians, who traveled it to and from their reservation before it was as smooth and well kept as now. It was built fifteen years ago at an expense of $20,000, being cut in places through solid granite. Between the high and narrow mountain walls there is just room for the wagon road and the Fountain, the stream I have mentioned in a previous letter as pass- ing through Manitou. The first surprise Nature had in store for us this day was the Rainbow Falls. We had driven two miles, more or less (for I've quit trying to accurately estimate mountain distances), up the Ute Pass when the thunder of falling water broke pleasingly upon our ears. We could hear it a long time before we saw it, and this so whetted our appreciation for the oft-heard-of falls that I don't know just how we did tumble out of the carriage and down the long stair- way which leads to its frothy foot. Like Lady Mac- beth's guests, we stood not upon the order of our LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 163 going, but "went at once. Anyway, we found our- selves on the small platform below the falls, our newly developed love of climbing impelling us over the great smooth rocks, nearer and nearer to the descend- ing water, until our light dresses were all flecked and dampened by the reaching spray. The waters make their mighty leap from an over- hanging rock, and the descending sheets are broken, by the points below, into a cloud of snowy spray, that seems ever striving to rise whence it first sprang. Aci'oss the cascade's front, just above the never-dissolving mist, Iris each morning weaves her seven brilliant colors into a delicate span, fasten- ing the ends to the rocks on either side ; and hence the name. The drive from Rainbow Falls continues over what is said to be the finest carriage road in the State. A quarter of a mile forward and the road makes an abrupt turn, and by a sudden ascent doubles upon its track, so that the occupants of the carriage may look directly down upon the portion of the road they have just passed. From this point it is one incessant climb over a made road, until the carriage has reached the mouth of the Manitou Grand Cav- erns. We said among ourselves that we would have been better pleased had we been obliged to scramble to the top and to crawl guideless into the caverns. It seemed too much like receiving something for noth- ing, to alight at the very entrance, register, and, with bright lamp in hand, to follow a decorous guide from end to end of the caverns, to walk erect all the way, and to come out with dresses unsoiled. No cobwebs, no bats nor owls, no crawlini>: through lonn^, windino- 164 NOT AT IIOMB. passages, no heaps of human bones over which to use the thrilhng tales [ had prepared beforehand ! It was a disappointment. The principal objects of interest within the cavern's man}^ recesses are the light-house, the giant's footr print, the silver cord, the vineyard, the shepherd-boy, with flock and dogs ; the dairy and churn, suicide rock, lovers' lane, where at its narrow exit the guide remarked that ladies accompanied by gentlemen were required to pay toll ; the bridal chamber, with its damp, misty veil ; stalagmites in the form of pond lilies, on the bottom of what has been at one time an underground lake ; and passages, columns, motionless figures, and flowers, and studies on every side. Prob- ably the most marvelous of all these natural forma- tions is the theatre, begirt with three galleries and beneath a dome 100 feet high. Within one of the gal- leries sits a musician ; before him, what is called the grand pipe-organ. The organ consists of clusters of countless musical stalactites, each possessing a tone peculiar to itself. Some of the finer ones show trans- parency when a lighted match is held behind them. The opening chords, struck by metal bars in the musician's hand, yielded long-echoing tones that blended and reverberated in unexplored chambers. The "Sweet By-andBye" following these introduc- tory notes sent my thoughts some hundreds of miles east to where, on Memorial Day, I last heard it ren- dered by our own home band; while "White Wings," the second selection, took these same fitful thoughts and wafted them to a little city on the Lower Wal nut. The tones of the cathedral bell, struck from a large stalactite, made me think of the stories I LETTERS FROM COLOR ADO. 165 have read of little hamlets, buried by avalanches, whose church bells ring faintly through the snow each Sabbath ; or of the hollow knell of storm-tossed ships full of lost souls. And when he struck the chimes — soft, musical, and far-sounding — it was but little to imagine, there in those faintly lighted sub- terranean vaults, that Pan was somewhere concealed with his sjnnbolic pipes, breathing upon them " the music of the spheres." And all these wonders have been formed by the mere dropping of water; are being formed; for look — many of these stalactites are damp and drip- ping. Years, ages, these dro])s have been clinging and hardening in the deep gloom. They were drop- ping when the world bowed down to Caesar; they were dropping when "Troy divine " was taken ; they were dropping great N'ature's tears, perchance, when the solid earth trembled beneath the weight of the Cross on Calvary. And so on and on down the ages until we were born, we of the nineteenth century ; and so they will continue to drop and cling and harden long after you and I and all of us are under ground and cold as they — " So long as the river flows, So long as the heart hath passions, So long as life hath woes." A two-mile drive out on our homeward way brought us to that surprise of all surprises — the Gar- den of the Gods. The short ride through Mushroom Park does not in the least prepare one for what lies beyond the walls of red and yellow sandstone. Nature has piled together in promiscuous confusion 166 NOT AT HOME. the grotesque with the picturesque, the sublime with the ridiculous. Of the latter, the Irishman, an exact profile statue, is the most striking. The camels, the deer's head, the lion, and the seal and bear, were each readily named by our party before the guide had designated them. Among the more imposing are the Cathedral Spires, Melrose Abbey, the Lean- ing Tower — the battlement wall pierced high up by a single round window, the Tower of Babel, 330 feet high ; the giant Sentinels that guard the gateway, and Balance Kock. This latter is a cube, large as a dwelling house; is thought to weigh about 125 tons, and yet is perched on a base not three feet in diame- ter. Can this be Sisyphus's rock? Wo, for that has never ceased its rolling. Then it must be Rhea's gift to Kronos, set here as a monument to woman's tact. How weird and yet how awful are these huge, deformed beauties ! " The rocks have gone masquer- ading," says IngersoU, " in every sort of absurd cos- tume and character. The colors of the make-up are varied from black through all the browns and drabs to pure white, and then again through yellows and buffs and pinks up to staring red. The Garden of the Gods — Hesperides! Wo, for though the steeps and precipices are here, there are no fruits, no Elysian flowers. Nor can this be Olympia. What pleasures, what congenialities here for the soft-voiced Muses, the gentle Graces, for the perfect Apollo, the pensive Yesta, or for Venus, god- dess of love 1 This, then, is a nook in Jove's domain, a resort, if you please, for his majesty when in one of the thunderous moods in whicli Hera, wife of his bosom. LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 167 was wont to send him. Here, perhaps, were confined the Titans, Giants, and Cyclops, afterwards to make war on heaven itself. Here on these still glowing forges wrought the mighty Vulcan. Here were Jove's thunderbolts fashioned, and the lightnings held in chains. Here Chaos might still give vent to wrathful mood, and upheave the solid rock in resent- ful anger. This is the ideal nursery for the Aloides, or a private work for the vengeful Mars in time of peace. Here the philosophical old Silenus might meditate, joined by Minerva in her sterner mo- ments. Satyr, Faun, and Centaur might here find pastime ; Milo might exercise his muscle in setting to rights what Chaos had disturbed, or even Proteus might come in some of his many disguises. But a garden for the milder gods — never ! not as we have been always brought to think of fair Olympia. For all this, it is truly beautiful. Imagine bright, terra-cotta cliff's rising in isolated majesty out of a carpet of soft green, interspersed with slender cliffs of pale gray no less imposing ; the tufts of moss at your feet parting to show a vivid red soil ; tiny rivers, like Pactolus, running over beds of carmine and gold ; midway up tower and rock and glowing spire, the white slender stems and silver leaves of the young Cottonwood, a fine contrast against the burn- ing background; around and about you, between clefts, glimpses of the snowy line of the eternal mountains ; and above you, bending on every side to meet and com])lete all, the unf at homed blue of a summer sky — imagine all this, I say, and you have a faint outline of the Garden of the Gods. 168 NOT AT UOME. " Beatjtifut- Denver." Den\'er, Col We Jeft Colorado Springs at 5 o'clock on the eve- ning of the 4th, bidding adieu to the pretty httle city and its attractive ally, Manitou,\vith some regret. We were to have started at 8:-t( > ; but some trouble with the engine delayed the El Moi'o train, and so we were late in getting oflf. Alas ! we heard from that engine again; for, behind as we were, it crept along until Palmer Lake was reached, where its " Ten mmutes for lunch" were prolonged into half an hour to repair engine. While they were patching it up, in the presence of a group of curious but impatient passengers, we set about investigating. On one side the train was that novel little " model depot" which you see on all the time-cards of the D. and R. G. On the other side lay the broad and graceful sheet of water from which the place takes its name. Here the Eailroad Company has erected summer-houses and dancing pavilion, and provided a large boat-house with a fleet of handsome boats, skiffs, and yachts. The close proximity of Glen Park and Monument Park makes Palmer Lake a favorite resort. P>y the way, this lake is on the great Divide. Streams to the north- ward join the Platte, while those on the south side mingle witli the waters of our own Arkansas. From this point it is a steady fall of more than ninety feet to Denver, and down this grade our dis- abled engine dropped by sheer force of gravitation, until after Larkspur had been passed ; then, out of breath, it drew us upon a siding somewhere among LETTEBU FUOM COLORADO. 169 the dark foot-hills, and, " wrapping the draperies of its couch about it, sank to pleasant slumber." Here was an interesting situation: tired, sleepy, no pros- pects of a hotel within the next hour and a half, and with an over-crowded, narrow-gauge chair car as the nearest approach to a sleeper. JS'evertheless I will say right here, ^^«/' parenthese, that the Denver and Kio Grande employees are among the most polite and accommodating I have met. "Well, we sat there on that siding, looking at our watches, reading time-cards, counting the lamps, yawning, and listening to crying babies and fretting older foUvS, until every blessed train on that line going both ways passed us. Why, they just paraded up and down that main track on purpose to tan- talize us with their able-bodied engines, I know they did. Even a great lumbering freight blew its smoke contemptuously in our eyes, and drowned the faint wheeze of our engine with a hoarse laugh. When the north-bound Denver and Utah express came up and stopped alongside us, the traveling men jumped off, grips in hand, each one asking the very question you are asking: "Why not board this train ?" But a few magic words from the conductor put each back in his seat, and soon the two green e3^es of the out- going express glimmered hke stars up the track and were lost round the curve. There was great rejoic- ing when we at last moved, and greater when the brakeman opened our coach door at 10 o'clock to say, with startling emphasis : " Denver ! Union depot !" Tired? You'd have thought so could you have seen us stagger through the nearest car door, into the 170 NOT AT HOME. nearest hack, with orders for the nearest hotel ! But a good night's rest, a refreshing bath, breakfast, and the reading of a glowing local in the morning paper, announcing our arrival, revived in us something like an interest in the affairs of this life, and we set out to ascertain m what kind, of a wilderness that train had dropped us. " I cannot tell you how glad I am that you are to see beautiful Denver," writes a friend in a recent letter. And those are just the words—" Beautiful Denver !" Kow I hear some of my more practical readers say, ''Yes, there she goes off on an enthusiastic flight about the " Queen City of the West," the surround- ing scenery, and the enchanting views from this or that point, instead of giving us some substantial facts and figures as to the wealth, industries, and resources of the place." It's real unkind of you to tallv so, and behind my back too. But I'll follow the Golden Kule this time (I always do when I think of it), and give you, from a tiny pamphlet issued by the Windsor, statistics — the pure and simple essence. Denver, the Metropolis of the West, lies on the border of the plains, within twelve miles of the Eockies, at an altitude of 5,197 feet. Where in 1858 there were only log cabins and tents and wagons enough to shelter 100 people, there are now over 10,000 buildings and more than 70,000 people. Her industries are three-fold — viz., mining, stock- raising, and agriculture. The first is the most impor- tant. About 75,000 lodes have been discovered, and of these the average annual yield since the discovery, twenty years ago, has been over $7,000,000. Of the LETTERS FROM COLORADO. HI $22,500,000 in 1S85, $5,000,000 was gold,$13,(»(»(>,0(»o silver, $4,000,000 lead, and $500,000 copper, the sil- ver of course being first in importance. Stock-raising is the second source of revenue to Denver. The estimated yield of cattle alone, includ- ing shipments, home consumption, hides, tallow, etc., is $3,500,000 per annum; that of sheep $l,300,00ti. Denver is the great slaughtering and shi])ping point. Agriculture in Colorado necessarily depends upon irrigation. Hence farming is confined to thevalle^^s of the streams, the lands between being useful only for grazing. There are perhaps 900 miles of irrigat- ing canals, rendering tillable some 1 5,000,000 acres of land. The irrigation companies charge for water from $1.50 to $3.00 per acre per annum. Besides tlie grains, vegetables, and fruits similar to ours, alfalfa is receiving much attention. It is said to almost equal corn in fattening qualities ; and cattle taken from range in the fall can be made ready for spring market by feeding them on alfalfa during the winter. Then there is this advantage : that three or four crops can be cut each season from the same ground, the average yield being from four to six tons per acre. I was glad to notice western Kansas giv- ing attention to its growins^. Then, too, Denver is fast developing into a manu- facturing centre. Here are found rolling-mills, iron foundries, smelters, machine shops, woolen-mills, glass works, carriage, harness, and shoe factories, breweries, etc. In 1884 the yield of her factories was reckoned at $22,000,000. The city is built of her own material, so to speak — brick kilned in her suburbs, sandstone, limestone, and marble, with a 172 NOT AT HOME. pretty pinlc trachyte much used in trimmings. Coarse lumber is procured from tlie high pine forests, but tlie fine hard wood must all be brought from the East. Denver has a climate of her own, and may success- fully boast of more sunshiny days, of the privilege of seeing the sun more days in the year and for more hours each day, than any city in this portion of the country. Her schools are her pride. There are twenty-one buildings, with an aggregate value of $800,000. Besides these there are institutions of higher learning: Denver University, Wolfe Hall, Jarvis Hall, a girls' seminary, and others. There are about sixty church buildings in the city, approxi- mately valued at $1,000,000. Denver is the centre of thirteen distinct lines of railroad, tlie oldest of which, a IGU-mile road to Cheyenne, was built in 1S70. Many of the great eastern trunk lines have their representatives here. The Union Depot is constructed of lava stone, being 503 feet in length by 65 feet wide, and surmounted by a tower 108 feet high. The cost was about $500,000, and the plan is the most complete and con- venient I have ever seen. Among other fine build- ings might be mentioned the City Building, County Court House, Windsor Hotel, and Tabor Grand Opera House ; but of those hereafter. Foundations are laid for United States Custom House and Post- oifice building, and for the State Capitol. All streets are lighted by the Brush incandescent electric lamp ; the American District Telegraph and the telephone are in full force over the city, its sub- urbs, and to interior towns ; the central part of the LETTERS FUOM COLORADO. 173 city is heated b}' the Home Steam Heating Company; the lire alarm has 32 miles of wire and 59 signal sta- tions; the fire department apparatus comprises one steamer, one engine, 5 hose carriages, and one 4-horse hook and ladder truck ; the protective force consists of 50 police and 30 patrolmen, with 30 stations equipped with electric signals and telephone connec- tions; there are 136 artesian wells from 300 to 1,105 feet deep ; water supply is pumped from the Platte, and is distributed through 40 miles of mains, aver- aging 3,000,000 gallons per day exclusive of irri- gating ditches and wells; a branch of the United States Mint is here used for assays only ; the shops of the D. and E. G. Eailroad, and those of half a dozen other roads are here, employing about 800 men each; and lastly, Denver has six dail}^ news- papers, one being in German, and a score of weeklies and monthlies. There ! I trust I have been prosy enough for the most statistically inclined, and that I \\\Q.y venture to promise something of a different, if not a '' flighty," nature in my next. " A Peovince Covered with Houses." It was my mournful duty on Saturday afternoon to see the friend oft" on her homeward journey. Up the steps of the south-bound express I followed her with a woful countenance, performing the last sad service in my power by seeing her comfortably settled amidst valise, shawl-straps, bandbox, grip, lunch basket, hand-satchel, umbrella, specimen box, fan, wraps, sketch-book, and the few other necessaries. 17-1 iV'6>7' AT IIOMK I had exhausted my eloquence (hence the deficiency of subsequent letters) in trying to prevent this departure. She had already remained longer than she had intended ; and nothing but the fascinating company in which she had been constantly thrown could possibly have detained her. That's what she said. You ask her. Well, the conductor's " All aboard !" sounded kind o' funeral knell-ish ; and I wended my way back to our^my — room, with nobody's arm to take, and nobody's parasol to knock my hat over my eyes, and nobody to say " Oh, isn't that prett}^?" to. I sat down on the edge of a chair in the centre of the room, and they both seemed too large for me. Denver seemed like a very large city, and 1 felt small and insignificant, and very much alone. I stood at the window a long time, refusing to be com- forted. I mean I would have refused if any one had offered. Now everybody Imows that to be busy is the only cure for the blues. So I buttoned my gloves again, slammed the door, shot down the street and around the corner, like a man with a bank check at two minutes of four, rushed into a book-store, anc — bought a map of the city. Once back in my room with the map spread out on the bed, I fell beside it in penftential attitude, and after a brief study, located myself, and stuck a pin there. Then I made a discovery. We had been wondering ever since our arrival why the sun persisted in rising m the southeast. Here the mystery unraveled. The streets in the original site of the city run with the semi-points of the compass ; and what we toolc for east windows, really front to the — the — well, some LETTEliS FROM COLOR ADO l-JG other direction. I must write tlie friend of this fact , it will be a sor.ice of consolation to her, Sunday morning, when the bells from the three score church steeples were lifting up their voices as one, when all Denver was on wheels — four, three, or two wiieels — on its way to worship or otherwhere, I sat pondering where I should go to hear a sermon. The continual recurrence to my mind of these lines kept annoying me : "wisdom in running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything." street car after a few more moments. Having ridden to city liniits, I walked on wherever Colorado's rare wild flowers beckoned, and at length (at full length) rested under a spreading tree on the banks of Cherry Creek, a stream that winds in and out of the city. You needn't ask me anything about the sermon Kature preached to me. I didn't take my note book (I noticed it lying on the table as 1 left my room, and forgot it). It would be like unrhym- ing a great poem to attempt its interpretation ; and besides, it is not best to take such things second-hand when you have 'running brooks," "stones," flowers, and "everything" close about you, in which to find them all — wisdom, sermons, and good. I was surprised early this week by a call from Miss Hattie Bowman, Mr. John Morrison, his brother, and his daughters Mabel and Olca. And I think I neglected to mention that I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Shelden, Miss Lamb, and m NOT AT HOME. Miss Fullinwiaer at Coluiado Springs ; and Mr. and Mrs Murdock Mr. and Mrs. Cooper, Mr. Van Denberg, and Mr. Gardner, at Manitou All seemed to be enjoying themselves, and my only wonder is why more of Butler County's people cannot tear themselves away from business and heat, and breathe freely for two months out of the year. More could, I am convinced, if they only thought so, and would find their business and themselves the better for it. They certainly are ignorant of the pleasure and profit they miss by remaining at home from one year's end to the next. Yesterday morning I spent several hours in Taylor's Emporium of Home and Foreign Curiosities, among elk, deer, antelope, mountain sheep, buffalo, wolves, sea serpents, lions, Indian arrows, pottery and bead work, endless displays of minerals, native jewelry, coral, sea-shells, Chinese work, furs, rugs, birds, and reptiles. Next, after a shy glance at the city map, I piloted myself to the Tabor Grand Opera House, which is always open for the tourist's inspection. Though much smaller than I had been led to expect, 1 found it elegant and tasty in all particulars. It was erected by ex-Senator Tabor, at an expense of upwards of $700,000, and is a five-story structure of stone and pressed brick, 200 x 125 feet. Besides the parquette and family circle, there are one gallery and six richly furnished boxes. The season reopens Monday, the 15th, with Gillette's ' Ileid by the Enemy." Lastly, r .nsited Uie County Court tlouse. and fell myself trreatly refreshed for my stroll about its LETTEUS FliOM COLOBADO. 177 neatly kept yard and the half hour beside its foun- tain, which is surmounted by a graceful statue of Aphrodite. The exterior of the building presents an imposing appearance, with its 108-foot tower crowned by a bronze statue of Justice. Its pillars, stairs, and wide halls, traversmg the entire building, are all of marble; its doors are of grained glass, with frames of richest wood ; its glittering chandelier drops by a shining rod from the dome through two floors, and its many spacious rooms are carpeted and furnished in keeping with all things else in a great and growing country. Its cost was $500,000. Upon reflection, f was obliged to confess, being pressetl, that Arapahoe County, Colorado, has a court house as good, at least, as Butler County has, even if it is a younger county. Don't understand that I've gone about conceding this to every Colorado-ite I've met, after the fashion of many tourists who remember nothing at home as good as what they see here. "• I'd rather be a dog and bay the moon, than such a" — Kansan ! Xo, I simply admit it with reluctance, being closely questioned, and add that I shall take pleasure in showing them through our Court House should they ever visit the " State of Butler." This addition, however, is usually made to quiet, stay-at-home look- ing citizens. I met aud enjoyed a twenty minutes with John J. Fetzer, Superintendent of Public Instruction, from whom I learned that county institutes are held in but six counties in the State, and that these are of but two weeks" duration, owing to the small number of teachers and the expense attached thereto ; that there is a growing sentiment in the State towards the ilB NOT AT HOME. free text-book system ; and that there is strong hope of Colorado's ado}3ting a course of systematic tem- perance instruction in her common schools. The State bchool Library contains 8,200 volumes. A cUmb up ten tiights of stairs to the Observa- tory is Avell worth the exertion, for the climber is rewarded with a bird's-eye view of the entire city and much of the surrounding country. The Colorado, or front range of mountains, ma}^ be seen for an extent of two hundred miles. Westward Mount Evans and Mount Eosalie look over the line of the Snowy Range ; Long's Peak towers far to the north, with Gray's Peak to the west rising higher, and — yes, there is the snowy head of Pike's Peak, still majestic and commanding, though eighty miles to the south. To the north, east, and south, the unbounded plain stretches away into smoky indistinctness. The excavation for the State Capitol building may be seen. The building is to be 295 x 192 feet, 326 feet high, and surmounted by a statue of Colorado. The flag-crowned dome of the panoramic Battle of Gettysburg may be seen, the commanding front of the Union Depot, the City Hall, Opera House, the Windsor Hotel, the College Buildings, the Railroad Shops, the Episcopal Mission ; block after block of solid walls of business houses, the miles of street rail- way, and the dense, unbroken shade of its eccentric streets. Those trees ! How grateful and cool they look to the high-perched observer on a midsummer afternoon ; for he is looking down upon more of a forest than a city— 10,000 buildings and 400,000 shade trees. How can this be, you ask, on what was twenty LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 179 years ago as treeless and barren as the plain around it? I answer with one word— " water." A double stream of Avater flows through each street at the roots of these trees; and Denver is washing and sprinkhng, pumping and irrigating from morning till night. It is only thus, by the use of 3,000,000 gallons of water per day, that her citizens are able to hold in subjec- tion dust and sand, and to keep fresh and blooming her great torest-city. I am always charitable toward the man with a hobby, if that hobby be "Plant trees." Teacher, press, and pulpit cannot over- emphasize that doctrine. The longer the observer stands on his height and counts new additions and tries to trace the endless streets, the more he is impressed with the magnitude of the city below and around him. In fact, he comes to the Frenchman's wise conclusion in regard to London — i. e., that it is not a city at all, but a province covered with houses. Twelve Baskets of Fragments. I have forgotten all along to tell you : That Helen Hunt Jackson's house is in Colorado Springs— an interesting place, surrounded by trees, shrubs, and flowers. That Kansas is the best represented State in the Manitou resort, and that Governor Martin set the example before his commonwealth. That I witnessed while at the Springs a heavier fall of larger hail stones than I ever saw in Kansas. 180 NOT AT HOME. That it has rained here every day save one during the past weelv. That many of the caves so interesting to tourists have been discovered by bands of boys, organized and encouraged by their teachers, this for the f)ur- pose of giving the adventurous spirit of the boys a healthy outlet. That I noticed the names of C. Y. Cain, wife, and daughters, on the register of the Seven Lakes Hotel under date of 1885. That many of my rainy afternoons have been spent in the reading-room and museum of the Denver Mercantile Library. The library is well fitted and neatly kept; the reading-room is orderly and well patronized ; the museum contains, among other things of interest, the gold pen with Avhich Colo- rado's Constitution was signed, a Mexican plough, a volume of Shakespeare dated 1795, a fragment from the top of Morro Castle, Havana, Cuba; rude carving from above altar of an old Mission Church, Pecos, ]S"ew Mexico; Aztec pottery and feather work, a Eevolutionary flint-lock used at Bunker Hill, and many relics of the civil war — such as mortar shells, bullets welded in air, sabres. Confederate money, etc. That the Chinese have a monopoly of the laundry business here, as throughout the State. That many fashionable people spend their summer in the mountains en hivouac. That Denver has the Salvation Army. That all the boats on Palmer Lake are named from characters in the " Mikado.'- That the Y. M. C. A. rooms — parlors, offices, read- LETTEPxS FROM COLORADO. 181 ing-room, li})riuy, and assembly room — are a pleasant haunt for a '' stranger in a strange land/'' El Dorado should have a suite. That the panorama Battle of Gettysburg is here. That the average wages for city teachers here (in Denver) are $6t; ; those of country teachers $51 — official information. That I read in a daily the other morning a most heart-rending article under the doleful head-lines, "Kansas Krops. A Dismal Outlook for the Grass Hopper State." I presume in case we need aid this winter, Colorado will be ready to send it — by burro train. That Professor Piclvering and party from the East are establishing an observatory at Seven Lakes. That Pueblo has a daily paper named the Ojymion. Haven't heard which runs it, the editor or the editor's wife. That I saw yesterday a children's picnic excursion, a Masonic procession conducting a negro funeral, and the Salvation Army, all on the same streets at the same time. That I had the pleasure of going through the establishment of the Rocky Mountain News^ "the live and enterprising paper of the West," Saturday night just as they were about to print the sixteen- page Sunday morning paper. The basement is devoted to engine and presses, the first floor to the jobbing department, office of manager, etc.; second floor, editorial rooms editor-in-chief, city editor, and staff ; third floor, composing rooms ; the building is equip- ped with water, gas, elevators ; the paper runs into press " continuous!}^," from an immense cylinder, at 189 NOT AT HOME. the rate of 10,000 ])oi' lioiir, and comes out printed on both sides, cut, pasted, and folded; the News employs 123 men, of whom forty work in the job- bing department; I regret that I haven't the time for details of this, to me, interesting visit. That a gentleman — a Ja3''-hawker — remarked that the Garden of the Gods wasn't much, that a Kansas cyclone could beat it all to pieces. Of course I agree with him. That I have received some four copies of the liqnihlican, which Avould have given me pleasure except that I nearly fainted over some of the typo- gTa})hical errors. Your proof -reader (save the mark!) had better leave the State before I return, for — " My heart is liot and restless, And my life is full of care ; And the burdens laid upon mc Seem greater than I can bear." That I have just now returned from the opening of the Tabor Grand Oi)era House — "Held by the Enemy," with Viola Allen as "Rachel McCreery" and AVm. Gillette himself as " Thos. Ilenr}' Bean" — a fair play and fairly presented. That I'm oft: to-morrow on the early morning train. Like O'Leary, "the rambling bum}) on my head must be large ; Til soon be en route again, and sorely puzzled to know whither." One of ni}- ances- tors must have been that rolling stone that gathers no moss. That it is to G. T. Xicholson, Assistant General Passenger Agent, Santa Fe, that I owe this late priv- IjyiTKUS FUOM COJXJRADO. 18-J ile<^c of anotlier ramble. I found him very attentive and accommodatinf(, and as large hearted as the great system he represents — tourists westward bound, please nota hene. That in every series of letters there must be one w]iose mission it is to gather the twelve baskets of fragments left from the others — a " scrap letter," so to speak ; and lastly — That this is it. Making a Gkace of Kece^sity. La .Junta, Col. "The American is, by nature, locomotive; he believes in change of air for health, change of resi- dence for success, change of society for improve- ment." So says some eminent English writer ; and certainly I am too patriotic to disclaim an alleged national characteristic. I scarcely know why I left Denver. It was cof>l and pleasant there, I had fonned some agreeable *' season friendsliips," and there was undoubtedly much to busy eyes and pen. But one soon wearies of hotel life and fare, however varied ; wearies of threading the noisy thoroughfares of the city, wea- ries of meetmg the unrecognizing eyes of strangers from day to day and from week to week. The ceaseless tinkle of the street car bell, the clatter of cart and carriage, the unv'arying cries of fruit vender and newsboy, and all the monotonous whir of business — who has not longed to leave them far behind, subjects only for a too familiar memory ? 1»4 yOT AT HOME. " Wlm kuiiws it not — the iloatl ivcoil Of wcury librcs stivtchod with toil? The pulse that lluttcrs faint ami low, "Where suniiner's seething breezes blow '>." Yet 1 hardly know wliy I left, unless it was that the •• rolling- stone" blood in my veins, aforemen- tioned, protested against my longer " gathering- moss. "" So, after waiting to attend the opening of the C-rrand Opera House, I took the early train yes- terday morning, and ran down to Manitou. " En route I met an old schoolmate. Miss Jennie Moise, who is starring with the Heine Concert Com- pany. It seems, on leaving school, that she went East for the furtherance of her musical education, and having finished, joined the excellent company of which she is now a member. " I always fancied you would turn out txjji'iijut donna, Jennie," I said. '' And I always knew you'd make a newspaper cor- respondent," she retorted, and we laughed in the joy of our first greeting. For the remainder of the journej' we renewed our school-girl friendship, and talked of '' old times, old hopes, old friends," and of the gracious past, whose years between " Have taught some sweet, some bitter lessons, none Wiser than this — to spend in all things else, But of old friends to be most miserly.. Each year to aneient friendship adds a ring, As to an oak." Leaving ]\[iss "Moise and "Miss Bowman at Colorado Springs, I changed cars for Manitou, where it was my pleasure to meet ^Iv. and ]\[rs. IT. IT. Gardner and their daughter Carrie, and to s]'»end a few hours LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 185 with Mr. and ^Irs. Murdock. They had j)(>st[)oned their jaunt to Wagon Wheel Gap, perhai)s indefi- nitely, and Mr. Murdock spoke of being at home by Saturday. Mr. Gardner, who had been under the physician's care, said that his going would depend altogether upon the dictates of the thermometer. I took the train for La Junta at 5 o'clock, stoppinic for supper at Pueblo, whose " black banners of indus- try " we soon left streaming in the wind behind us. La Junta was reached without delay or adventure at 1) o'clock ; it was after we reached it that the delay came. I had expected to remain over night, and was soon comfortably housed in the A. T. and S. F. Hotel — always noted for the excellency of its table and the politeness of its employees. But this morning I Avas met with the crushing information that " m}'- " train, due here at 9 a. m., had wandered into a ditch near Pierceville, Kansas, and would not be in until afternoon. I admit that I was disgusted, Not a lady in the dining-room, nor the parlor, nor the waiting-room, and nothing of a town that I could see from the depot. Ko acquaintances, nothing to do, and twelve hours to wait for a train — j^leasant prospect indeed! " What can't be cured must i)e endured " came to my rescue ; and after breakfast I went to my room to think how best I might spend the day to the common interest of my reader and myself. I would walk over the town, I concluded, which must lie south of the depot; then over to the round-house and machine shops that I knew were there some place. This in the forenoon ; m the afternoon I would write what I had seen, and then stroll to the river. 186 NOT AT HOME. I put on my hat and started out to execute my plans. Crossing the web of tracks I was surprised to find myself in front of a long row of substantial- looking business blocks, whose stores left no branch of business unrepresented. I turned to the right and found that blocks similar to these extended to the south to meet the residences of the town, built on up over a commanding hill. I walked on, but soon stopped, more surprised than ever, at the corner of a large city park shaded by tall trees and threaded by gravel walks. Glancing across the street I saw on a large building the words "The La Junta Tribune^ Walking on to the top of the hill, I halted before a two-story stone school-house, which I afterwards learned cost $10,001 > and is capable of accommodat- ing 250 children. It is a fine structure, and its loca- tion very desirable. Eeturning, of course the temp- tation to enter the Trihune office was too strong to be resisted. I found a large, well-equipped, nicely kept office, a well-patronized eight-column weekly paper, ably edited by Messrs. Johnson and English. Upon learning that I was a stray member of the great RepuhliGan family, trying to annihilate twelve hours of time, Mr. Johnson, in spite of all remonstrance, insisted on laying aside everything to show me over the town. We first " dropped in on " the real estate firm of Kilgore & Seeley, where we were shown many fine specimens of the county's products — wheat, oats, sorghum, corn, and peanuts. Having gained several items of desired information, I Avas next taken across the street, among the neat tenant cottages of the A. T. and S. F. employees, and, further on, to their LETTERU FROM COLORADO. 187 library, reading-room and billiard hall. The grounds are carpeted with green, shaded by trees, and watered by fountains. The librar}^, though small, contains many valualile books, besides all the best magazines and dailies. Our last walk was to the round-house and repair shops, where I was introduced to Mr. Snyder, the foreman. He walked Avith us from end to end of the repair shops, where wheels buzz and belts revolve night and day, and where ninety men are employed ; then through the round-house, capable of accommo- dating twenty-four engines. He sliowed us a freight engine, the largest I ever saw, the giant of the road, No. (i7. " She," as they seem to call their engines, Avas in for repairs, and we were granted a ]3eep into the mystery of her complicated anatomy. No. 1 90, a dmiinutive, nervous creature, in an adjacent stall, he told us, had measured 6,200 miles in the past thirty days. Being questioned as to the average " life " of an engine, he replied that if one held out on these roads for twenty-four months, "she"' was doing well. After that, like the Irishman's jack- knife, the different parts Avere so rapidly replaced Avith ncAv, that it could hardly be called the same engine. I further learned that this is the end of the Santa Fe system, its two great branches going from here to Pueblo and the Company's coal mines near Canon City, and from here south into Xew Mexico, Arizona, California, and old Mexico ; that these are the railroad's largest works outside Topeka, having already cost $200,000, and are still incomplete ; that the implements, oil, and store-houses which supply and keep in repair the running stock and equipment 188 NOT AT HOME. of the three divisions, are here ; that one of the com- pany's six hospitals is located here ; and that every month $55,000 are paid here to the employees of the road. " Some engineers receive $230 per month," Mr. Snyder said ; then added with a smile, " but such get very little sleep." Thanking the foreman for his kindness, we passed out among the scores of work- men busy with the machinery, and into the sunshine of the street again. In the office once more, I met E. S. Bradbury, of another live real estate firm, and J. J. Fitzgerald, of Las Vegas, and examined some specimens of ore from the surrounding hills. By that time the buggy and horses were ready, and we drove over the residence portion of town, viewed Holme's addition, a fine elevation of 1 20 acres over- looking the old town, the river, and surrounding country, and then drove to the A. T. and S. F. Hos- pital. Dr. Miel was absent, but we were shown over the building by his assistant, whom Ave found exceedingly polite and gracious. He showed us in succession the office, parlor, dining-rooms, kitchen, reading-rooms, bath-rooms, the nurses' suites of rooms, private chambers, and the spacious ward room containing sixteen or twenty beds, and up-stairs into his own nicely furnished suite. The wood work of the building's interior is of light grained material, except the office, which is of dark walnut. The office is furnished with carpet, easy chairs, library, supply of drugs, stuffed birds and animals, and some fine specimens. The halls and stairways are carpeted. The ward room, with its high ceiling, white beds, and lace curtains, is a model of coolness and neatness. There were but four LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 189 patients confined to tlieir beds ; one engineer with a fractured skull, in a private apartment. Several invalids were seated in rockers, reading, playing checkers, or otherwise whiling the hours of con- valescence. A tramp had just died from a shock received while attempting to steal a ride. From the hospital we drove down through the business portion of town, past one block which cost $17,00u, and out across the long bridge of the Arkansas, among the irrigating ditches and ranches of the country. Of the information gleaned here and there I give you the following, chiefly because of my own sur- prise at finding so enterprising a little city at this point. Bent county (named of course for our hon- orable editor) is the largest in Colorado, contains 9,250 square miles, and is called the "Empire of Bent. " But the county is soon to be sub-divided into three counties, with Lamar, La Animas, and La Junta as county seats, that portion of which La Junta will be capital being the richest and most highly improved. La Junta (" The Junction ") is pleasantly situated on the south bank of the Arkansas, 4,061 feet above sea level. It claims 1 ,000 people, and is rapidly growing. It has three railroads to be built within the coming year ; two first-class hotels — the Depot and the National — and two or three smaller ; a G. A. K. post, K. P., I. O. O. F., Brotherhood of Engineers, and many other secret societies ; extensive brick-yards, a bank, mineral springs, besides the city park, round-house, hospital, reading-room, school- house, fire companies, newspapers, etc., alread}^ men- tioned. 190 NOT A'l' HOME. T found its people not only refined and agreeable, but active and wide-awake to the interests of their prospering town, Avliich is, I believe, destined to be the great railroad and commercial centre of eastern Colorado. The facts are not due to my o^vn exertion, but to the courtesy of Messrs. Johnson and English, Kil- gore, Seeley, Bradbury, et al. A "Family." — Fort Union, Watrous, New Mex. Once more I " seat myself" and " take my pen in hand" to let 3^ou know that the gods are still gracious, that Felicitas still attends me — an undeserv- ing mortal. By your grace I will but briefly touch upon the tedious journey from La Junta here: Of how we started at 6 p. m., amid wind and rain, with an unre- liable engine in front and a disabled sleeper in the rear ; of the changes on the slowly passing land- scape, and the fading of the last familiar object — Pike's Peak ; of how, having forfeited the right of way by being twelve hours behind tune, we were ordered upon endless waits at ever}^ station ; of the complaining of the weary passengers ; of how the brakeman relieved our coach of a drunlvcn man by leading him gently (J) along the aisle by the collar, and how said drunkard clung fiercely to each pass- ing chair with "curses not loud, but deep "; of the feeling of loneliness, as, unable by the dim light to read or write, I sat gazing with sleepless eyes out upon the blank, black darkness, where LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 191 "The swift little troops of silent sjjiirks, Now pausing, now scatl'ring away in fear, Went tl) reading the soot forest's tangled darks Like herds of startled deer ;" of the breaking of the tardy morning over a strange, wild landscape, houseless and. broken, where, in the language of the Irishman, the " hand of man has not left a footprint"; of the prolonged labor of two engines to draw our seven coaches up a steep grade ; and of reaching my destination at 8 o'clock, accom- plishing in fourteen hours a journey which should require but eight. It was the sweetest music I had heard for some time when the brakeman called out "Watrous !" and sweeter still, when, a few moments later, upon the platform, I heard my name spoken in greeting by familiar voices. I have been here since Thursday, and, thanks to the easy hospitality of Dr. and Mrs. S., am becom- ing quite at home in this novel retreat. I have taken several excursions, tours of inquiry, from Wat- rous to different points of the compass, and have gathered about me, by observation and questionings, much of as yet un worked material, I3ut first permit me to introduce to you our "family," of just tAvelve, whom Chance, in one of her odd whims, has assem- bled for a brief period, and who feel ourselves drawn together by a singular attraction — ac meal-times at least — when "A fellow-feeling makes us wondrous kind. ' There are the doctor, whose lieart is running over with good humor and liospitality, an enthusiastic 193 NOT AT HOME. champion of "Watrous, Mora County, the West in general, and New Mexico in particular, and who loves to talk of early times and pioneer hardships ; his wife, a gentle-faced, mild-voiced woman, kind and over- anxious as to the comfort of her guests ; the eldest son — who is absent much of the time — just now directing the busy harvesters, and whose soul is in his cattle-ranch twenty miles away ; Florence, the eldest daughter, something of an invalid at present, but who sacrifices her comfort each day that I may miss none of the sights ; Carrie, the second, a busy, untiring body, whose sharp tongue is the dread of the "family"; Adelaide and Mabel, the younger ones, one moment clothed in the sedate modesty of woman- • hood, and the next full of the fun and clamorings of childhood, "Standing with reluctant feet Where tlie brook and river meet, Womanhood and cliildliood fleet." Then there are Mr, and Mrs. W. A. White, of Eaton, New Mexico, bride and groom, on a month's saunter among the mountains, with camera and sketching- material; he is a droll, keen-witted fellow, quaint and angular in form and speech, but with a true artist's a])preciation for the beautiful in nature and in art ; she is d^petitG little lady, graceful and winning —an artist also. Mr. Walter McNutt, station agent at this place, has traveled much, and remembers what he has seen. His description of a portion of the City of Mexico is one of the finest bits I've heard lately. lie is well informed and is a good conversa- tionist. Mr. W. J. Matherly, day operator, also LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 193 belongs to the " family." He is from " Injiany, Posey County, Hoop Pole Township," and, being accustomed to society, llnds Watrous lonely. He is witty, fine-looking, and an excellent musician. Twelfthly and lastly, comes an individual, meddle- some and inquisitive, whose eyes and ears are ever on the alert in the interests of the RepyhliGmi. When the family circle is completed, at dinner in the long dining-room, or in the parlor or porches at evening, when rise the laugh and idle chat of leisure," hght words, the tinsel clink of compliments," it would be difficult to think that many of us never met until late this vacation season. Our amuse- ments are various. We drive, walk, hunt specimens and points for good views, write, do fancy work, and visit. Sunday we drove to Fort Union, ten miles distant, and came home via Tipton vi He. We have made the discovery of several good musicians among us, and with organ, harp, and (borrowed) violin, we make the neighbors deplore the length of the eve- ning and the thinness of their window shutters and doors. Dr. S. often finds entertainment in the attempts we make to pronounce some of the huge S])anish names which ornament the maps of Xew Mexico. What with the Le Koux, Ojo Calienta, Peloid llo, Arroyo de la Cuchilla, Juaoa Lopez, and the others, one has his hands — or rather his moutli — full. We had our pictures taken the other da}^ out under the white light of the ISTew Mexican sun, — horses and buggy, bronchos, dogs, and all — with the strange- looking adobe houses and the broken mountain in the background. We even descend to punning. 194 NOT AT HOME. Some one remarked one evening that the violin was flat, but that no one was sharp enough to notice it. Again, when we heard our next-door neighbor playing his accordeon, as he does ever}^ evening, some one asked if that were the ''balance all" he Avas playing, and some one else sighed and said she hoped it was all the balance ! I'm going now for a scramble up the mountain which rises just back of the station house. When I return I'll tell you something about Fort Union and the Arsenal. Fort Union, you know, is an old fort, the barracks and fortifications having been built during the war. 1 was anxious to see it, especially after the doctor had told me several items of interest concerning it. Sumner, then colonel, was first to command the fort, but was soon transferred to the Army of the Potomac, and was superseded by Gen. Loring,of Egyptian fame. It was there Gen. Gordon Granger died; it was there Gen. Phil. Sheridan's wife was born ; it was there that Kit Carson learned to write his name. The very road to it is historic, being almost the exact trail made by Harney during the war with Mexico. At present there are 000 men stationed there — two companies of cavalry and four of infantry — under command of Col. Douglass. It lies ten miles north and west of "Watrous, and the drive is a pleasant one. Sunday, when we were there, all was quiet. The officers sat in the shady porches of their comfortable quarters reading the dailies and looking very peace- able. The soldiers' quarters lack the flowers, bird- LETTEMS FROM COLOHADO. 195 cages, hammocks, rockers, and other home-like signs of the officers', but all are of adobe and bear some- what ancient and dilapidated exteriors. AVe drove past the parade ground, tlie target field, the hospital, and the prison house, where the guard was pacing his slow beat. There is a small civilian settlement out- side, where the stores and shops and post-office are located. There is a daily mail between the fort and Watrous. Three-quarters of a mile south of where the infantry is stationed lies the Arsenal, where abide the two companies of cavalry. On the road thither we saw the cemetery, mournfully extensive ; the old breast-works of the original fort, now mere ruins ; and in the valley the well-kept, thrifty gar- dens of the officers, with the white tents of the gardeners. The quarters at the Arsenal are of adobe, as are also the barns for the horses. At a little distance may be seen the old magazine. This morning the colonel received orders to move his men north into Colorado to assist the militia against the Utes, and I presume the scene in and about the fort to-night is one of busy preparation. But yesterday, as we remounted the liomeAvard hill and looked back, the scene suggested anything but life. The low, brown quarters seemed fairly re-baking under the afternoon sun ; an occasional carriage wended its way through the quiet streets ; the horses grazed peaceful ; the grave-stones gleamed white from the mountain slope ; the smoke from the chimneys drifted dully off to the dim, ])urple mountains ; anon a blue coat and glitcering bayonet enlivened the brownness of the scene ; and high above the whole, upon a slender, towering stafl", to which 1 could not look 196 NOT AT HOME. without a thrill — far up against the azure of the western sky, floating and rippling and billowing in the faint south breeze, rode the most beautiful emblem that ever the sun shone upon — the Stars and Stripes ! About Wateous. It will be no small task, I am persuaded, to do Watrous justice in a single letter, to say nothing of Mora county. All New Mexico — in fact, the whole territory over which I have rambled this summer — ■ has been written threadbare, so that I cannot hope to present anything new, but to give only personal impressions — '•''non 7iova, sed nove^^^ you know— and that. is probably the best any writer can do. Mora county lies in the northeastern part of the Territory, extending from the Texas Panhandle on the east to the mountains on the west, var^'ing in altitude from 4,000 to 7,000 feet above sea level. Although one of the smallest of the thirteen counties, it contains 2,370,000 acres. It is essentially a grazing county, with its chief wealth on foot — four feet — ^the year round ; not a mineral county, because it is on the Scolly land grant, and the mines are thus far undeveloped; though beyond a doubt it is rich in coal, iron, copper, silver, and gold. Not an agricultural county only because the natu- ral water-courses have not been utilized nor arti- ficial courses constructed to the extent they should be. Wells sunk in the numerous natural depressions of tlie county, and these supplied with mills, would largely increase the water iacdities. In the moun- LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 197 tains, too, I am told, are locations suitable for reser- voirs whence might come inexhaustible supplies of water. Notwithstanding these easily surmounted difficulties, there are many practical, experienced men, who, like Dr. S., have great faith in the agri- cultural possibilities of the county, and who show their faith in works. Wheat, barley, and oats do well, though the corn is short and " flinty." Vege- tables of all sorts attain prodigious sizes, cabbages weighing thirty pounds, and onions, clear skinned and mild, two or three pounds each. It is found necessary to protect orchards here against the prevailing southwest winds by strips of rapid-growing trees — white willow, usually. Peaches, apricots, grapes, the small fruits — partic- ularly currants and gooseberries — are the most satis- factory to the horticulturist. Any piece of prairie land may be quickly converted into meadow^ by ii'rigation. Antelope, turkej^s, deer, and quail are still found, and, among the mountains, various wild animals. Traces of the ancient "settlers" still remain, and are interesting in relics of pottery, arrows, hand mills, etc. In the canons are also portions of the habitations of the Cliff Dwellers. But, as I said before, the cattle, sheep, and horses constitute Mora County's chief wealth, amounting to something like 75,000 head of cattle, 125,000 sheep, 1,500 horses, and 10,000 goats. Herding is the business of the countv. The ''cow-boys" are a regular army, thoroughly organized, with officers, certain duties, and systematic work. But we are going to one of the semi-annual "round-ups" at the • lakes this afternoon, the whole party of us ; and in 198 KOT AT HOME. another letter I'll "tell you all about it," I must not neglect to mention the trees— cotton wood, hack, box-elder, wild cherry, and plum, oak, cedar, and pine — which add so much to the county. The climate is delightful — "high altitude, equable temperature, dry atmosphere, and generous sunshine," as the real estate enthusiasts say. It has been cooler here than I found it in Colorado. I have had little use for the light dresses I brought. Last night we had a copious shower, and this morning closed doors and bright fires are in order. The scenery too is fine. I climbed the mountain mentioned in my last, and scrambled about for two hours, gathering some of the exquisite wild flowers and seeking for the best projections that commanded the valle}^ views. We named the mountain Pisgah, for the land it commands is indeed one of promise : An emerald valley, threaded by the silver Mora and Sapillo Rivers, and by the winding wagon roads that look like broad brown ribbons among the green, forest-groves bedotting the whole, half concealing the large white ranch houses ; to the left the placid surface of Phoenix Lake ; the well-wooded foot-hills, the rough and broken canons, the stretch of rolling meadows,the irregular tree hedges ; and to the west, fifty miles distant, the undulating wall of the Rockies ; to the north, Turkey Mountains. Below the pro- jecting ledge on which we stood, the shining rails of the Santa Fe go twisting their tortuous way through canon and gorge to the north, followed by the delicate tracings of the five-ply telegraph web. Just to the left, 500 feet beneath us, lay Watrous, under the hollow of the mountain's rugged hand. LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 199 Harvesters Avere bus}" on every side, in boundless fields where gleamed the blue ' eyes of the alfalfa, their wagons, machines, and horses looking like so man}" toys; and the town seemed a very hive, with its dark brown cells and tiny human bees. As we stood there, a fountain of white steam in the distance preceded the long re-echoing whistle of a freight train, and \\q had scarcely time to gain the verge of the ledge when the train came rushing and curving around the mountain, was lost to sight beneath our very feet and emei'ged again almost instantlv, while we looked down upon the back of the monster, which was half concealed by the trail of murky smoke that went hovering and drifting away across the fair valley. But I digress. A word about Watrous, and I have done. The original site, just north of the present one, was granted in 1S22 to six men, who built upon it a fort for defense against the Indians, and called it Fort Barkely, for one of their number. Watrous proper, formerly cal'ed La Junta, was platted nine years ago by the Santa Fe Company, the railroad reach- ing here the latter part of June, 1878, and to Las Yegas, twenty miles south, on the 4th of Jul}^ It is in the southern part of Mora County ; altitude, 6,500 feet. The city was named for one of the " oldest inhab- itants" — S. B. Watrous, of Massachusetts, who settled here in ! 832. That he has seen much of the world's spice you will not doubt when I tell you that he has had six wives — one Pueblo Indian, three Mexicans, and two Americans. You will wonder that he committed suicide no earlier than last summer. 300 NOT AT HOME. The ''city" contains about 200 inliabitants, two hotels, a school-house, church, with the usual quota of groceries and saloons, the houses all (save two or three, including church and dei)ot) built of the sun-dried brick so much used throughout this countr3\ Its location, with a mountain to the east and the twin rivers to north and west, is one of singular beauty. The little group of low brown dwellings, as viewed '' from Mount Pisgah's lofty height," fits well into the niche of the valley, and is in quaint keeping with its ancient, suggestive surroundings and the dreamy transparency of the New .Mexican atmo- sphere. A Kew-Mexican Sunset.— Las Vegas. — A Country Town -Dance." A series of rainy days had confined us to the house and driven ustoall sorts of indoor amusements. Small chat, patterns in lace and fancy work were exhausted, the organ, unlike the wind, soon grew weary, and a peej) through the rain-washed windows durino- the last hours of the storm would have revealed most of the feminine portion of the house- hold seated on the floor with the little folks, uiaking doll clothes. The doctor Avent about his duties in rain-proof coat or gazed pensively out toward the wet alfalfa field across the turbid river. The station agent and the ojierator trudged to and from meals with rubber boots and disconsolate faces. The artist wandered about the house froui Avindow to window until, disheartened at the prospect, he came with a doleful sigh and })lumped himself down on LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 201 the floor in our midst and asked for paper and scissors, that he might cut a doll dress pattern. But toward evening of the third day " the baffled sun stabbed wildly at the gale" and came off victorious. At the first burst of sunshine all things else were forgotten, and the whole family assembled on the porch at once. The doctor joined us. " Who wants to go with me to yonder point to see the sun set?" he asked, indicating the highest ledge of Mount Pisgah, southeast of town. I had ti-ied to gain the point that afternoon, but had been driven back by the rain, so that now I was the flrst volunteer to follow in the doctor's watery footsteps. Mabel, Adda, the artist and his wife, completed the party. No matter how we had to go half a mile out of our way to cross the arroyo that barred our progress, nor how we trailed through long, wet grass and up over slippery rocks ; we reached the cli ff, and that was enough. We had just time for a sweeping glance around. The two rivers were ver}^ high, and we could hear the rush of their discolored waves. Every ditch and gutter was a running stream Far across the rain-wet meadow land, Fort Union lifted its flag against the dark mountain. 'Great white clouds hung suspended below the dark crests. South- ward our view stretched away for eleven miles. " At our feet the city slumbered. From its chimneys, here and there, Wreaths of snow-white smoke, ascending, vanished ghost-like through the air." We had just time for a glance, when we witnessed one of New Mexico's famed sunsets, the dropping of ;t glowing ball behind clouds and mountain — 203 NOT AT HOME. " When the sun, through heaven descending Like a red and burning cinder From the hearth of the great Spirit, Fell behind the western mountain." The air was very fresh and exhihirating, the view extensive and fascinating, the sunset a marvel of beauty, and, loath to go, we lingered till " Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of angels." Then, damp and shivering, but well paid for our climb, we left the artistic and poetic, and dropped 500 feet into the prose of the quiet town, reaching home in time for a late supper in the lighted dining- room. After tea we all drew around the cheery fire to listen to pages, now humorous now pathetic, from " Faggots from the Camp Fire,'' a tale of the late war ; and to hear the doctor — an old soldier, his memory thawed by warmth and light and genial company — relate experiences of southern camp life. Before parting for the night it Avas agreed among the artist, his wife, Florence, and myself that, Aveather permitting, Ave Avould spend the morning in Las Vegas. Owing to the lateness of the freight upon Avhich Ave Avere permitted to ride, we did sot reach our destination until nearly noon the next day. Hence my visit to Las Yegas, contrary to my expectation, Avas unsatisfactory, so far as learning ami:hing of the city Avas concerned. I had letters of introduction to F. A. Blake, of the JVews, Dr. Gould, of the Daily Oj>tic, and a card to Colonel Haren, none of Avhich I found time to use ; LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 20;$ for, taking a carriage, Ave drove at once to tlie ll(-t Springs, some six miles distant. The new Las Vegas, which lies near the railroad, I could see from the carriage, bore the impress of modern metropolitanism — street car line, telephone, water works, gas, mills, factories, churches, a college, a convent, opera house, academy, etc. We drove down past the city parks. Plaza Hotel, and tasteful suburban residences and out upon the broad boulevard, past old Las Vegas, fraught Avith historic interests, built of adobe around a plaza or public square. Lots on either side almost the entire length of the boulevard are staked off, and, I was told, have been sold to the amount of $70,000 Avorth. After a late dinner at the Phoenix, the finest and b«st conducted hotel I ever saAv, not excepting a house in Manitou or Den\^er, our artist set to Avork to take some views of the springs. He first took the inte- rior of the dining-room, with its innumerable fruit decked tables, mantel, stained glass, and chandeliers, to the infinite delight of sixteen colored Avaiters, Avho AA^ere photogra]:>hed, each Avith his Avhite coat and apron, napkin and broad grm. He then scrambled up the opposite side of the canon, camera in hand, and took a " corner vicAv " of the hotel. By the time Ave descended to the park and had strolled about enjoA^ing the coolness, the floAvers, and the deer, they had hoisted the flag on the dome of the Phoenix, set the fountains going in the park, and had all things in readiness for the other vicAvs. The central fountain, with its leaping spray spanned by a bright rainboAV, Avas taken, then the summer-house, Avith its rustic sides and idle loungers. After Ave ■20-i ^'02' AT HOME. luul purchased some trifles at the museum, aiul l\a'^ ther enjoyed the park, Ave re-entered the carriage, and from the first hill on our backward Ava}^ took our last picture, a bird's-eye view of hotel, park, clustering houses, and sentinel mountains. I much regret that I saw no more of this beautiful city of Galenas. I had hoped to spend perhaps a week there ; but time flies, and I have abeady tarried beyond season. It was a merry party that took possession of the north-bound freight's caboose. The train men kindl}^ gave us the chairs up in the observatory, cupola, or whatever it may be, and the ride to AVatrous was most enjoyable, for we commanded a full view of the fl\^ing scenery ; and if you wish I'll show you, when I reach home, a picture which our zealous, untiring artist took from the top of the caboose. It is of a small lake, a glimpse of towering rock, and the long freight train swinging around a curve, with a brakeman in the act of twisting the brakes. We had to wait some time at Onava for the pas- senger, but we held interview with a mammoth watermelon, and were perfectly resigned to the situation. Presently we were in motion again, with the lights of the Watrous station house gazing upon us down the track with welcoming eyes. To finish the day, three or four of us strayed over about 10 o'clock to where a '' dance '' was in progress. Tlie doctor was desirous that I should witness some of the Span- ish dances and learn something of the manner in which the whole was conducted. I learned sometliino-. We were shown into a small LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 205 room in which '' the girls " were crowded, " the boys" lingering outside on the porch or in the "ball- room." The Ijall-room was large enough for one set. The lioor was rough and unwaxed, and there was a cellar door, conspicuous for its iron ring handle, made bright by many a " fantastic toe." Presently the two Mexicans in the corner tuned (?) their violin and guitar; "the boys" were numbered and danced by turns, each venturing as far as the door of the small room and indicating, by word or sign, the girl of his choice ; the first set was formed, " And when music rose, with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spoke again, And all went merry as a marriage bell." Some of the figures were novel ; one they called " the coona " "was especially so. Some of the boys wore handkerchiefs in lieu of collars, and danced without their coats ; but most of them looked neat. The girls looked fresh and prett}^, some in white, and all wore natural flowers. All wore dresses with close neck and sleeves. There was much round danc- ing, and several waltzers would have done credit to a larger ball-room. Wearying of the monotonous rise and fall of the music, and the unceasing whirl of the dancers, we soon " hied us to our caljin, well prepared J To dream all night of what the day denied." A New-Mexican "Rouxd Up." Reader, did you ever witness a Western " round 206 M)T Al' uOMK. Friday morning there was a little iiutterof excite- ment throughout the household prior to the start. Florence and Adda agreed to remain at home to oversee things for the day. Doctor and our railroad friends had imperative duties to attend to. So there were but seven of us — the artist, his wife, and Mabel, in a light wagon with camera and sketching materials ; Mrs. S. and Carrie in the buggy, mine hosts' eldest son and I on ponies. A swift ride of some six miles over a broken and picturesque country brought us in view of the white tents and wagons of the encampment. We left the road and took an air line toward it, the buggy going directly to the camp, while we pulled up our ponies beside the herd of horses. Five or six men, some on foot, some on jaded-looking ponies, were busy lasso- ing fresh horses. The riders on the outside kept circling around the herd, crowding the horses close together, while the others, with those on foot, forced their way among them, singling out fresh ponies for the afternoon's work. Each man — some sixteen or eighteen of them — has along with him, I was told, from seven to ten horses, of which he uses two a day, thus keeping a reserve of ready ones. Those caught were led to the camp, and fastened until after dinner. "Camp" consisted of several tents pitched near a little stream, the provision wagon partly unloaded and an out-door fire of pine logs burning brightly. Near by was a wood-pile and ax, two sets of harness heaped together, blankets spread out to dry, and saddles and trappings scattered about. When we alighted, we were met by the captain, Avith lifted hat; our horses were taken in charge; we were LETTERS FROM COLORADO. '.^07 introduced to such of "the boys " as were not too bashful to come forward for the purpose, and were seated on a log preparatory for dinner. The cook, a domestic looking fellow, Avith sleeves rolled above his elbows and a cloth of uncertain color over one arm, then served us. Each was given a tin plate, a knife and fork, a tin cup and spoon. These we held in our laps, while the bo3'^s sat around on the grass in various attitudes, resting their cups on the ground. When I asked for a napkin, one of them gallantly offered his handkerchief, while another ran and brought a flour sack ; and when I hinted at the cook's want of an apron, all laughed immoder- ately, and said that was too expensive a luxury for " Clay." Our plates were taken from us and returned heaped with juicy beefsteak, potatoes, rice, and pick- les, our cu]3s running over with rich, strong coffee. Apples, prunes, and sauce in great buckets were set at our feet ; the half tubs of sugar and pickles were rolled forward ; hot light biscuits were brought from the oven, and we were told to "help ourselves." After dinner, which, thanks to our long ride and to the politeness and attention of our hosts, we enjoyed very much, I was referred to one of the men for such information as I desired. He first took me to the fire and showed me the great smoked coffee boiler — "a small one," he said, touching it with his spurred foot; also the two iron ovens with movable covers, around and over which live coals are lieap' d when baking is to be done. Then to the wagon. The back part is fitted with a large cupboard, witli five shelves, three drawers, and a leaf which drops and is held by a chain, in shape of a table, or fastens up ^08 K()T AT HOME. by means of buttons, and serves as protection for the whole. On the shelves were spices, coffee-mill, canned goods, etc., etc., in the drawers the plates, knives, forks and the like. Under the wagon was a box for the ovens, kettles, and iron ware. At the side of the wagon, between wheels, was riveted a water tank, which is filled in case they go into "dry camp." Then, balancing myself on a wheel-spoke, I took a view of the interior of the wagon. Under the driver's seat was a large chest, built stationary. Lifting the lid, my companion revealed two compartments — one for flour, sifter and roller, the other for rice, the dried fruits, etc. The sj)ace between the chest and cupboard was filled with sacks of potatoes and onions, and tier upon tier of canned tomatoes, peaches, etc. On top of these, when camp is broke, the tents and blankets are piled and roped, and the whole is drawn by four mules driven by the cook. By the time I was through my inquiries and had thanked my informant, most of the men had saddled their horses and gone to the branding camp, about a mile distant. So we mounted and followed, striking out across the pathless hill at a swift gallop. All the while I was there I saw no one ride at a walk. It is no wonder they require two horses a d^ix. From the first hill we could see the " day herd" to the left, the flock of sheep to the right, and back of us the ponies, each tended by mounted men. From the next hill appeared the branding camp : a bright pine fire in which were thrust several long irons ; saddled ponies stood about with drooping heads and closed eyes ; some dozen men lounged around the fire, variouslv LETTEIIS FROM COLOBABO. 209 occupied; and four or five others, on horseback, guarded a '' bunch " of perhaps eighty cows with their calves. Ragged cliffs and tall pines formed a background for the whole. A " round up " is a semi-annual or tri-annual gath- ering of all the cattle findable. It is conducted by a well-organized association of the cattle men of the different districts, and at every assembling will be found rei)resentatives of each of the stock-owners. It is the duty of these representatives to see that each calf is branded with the owner's brand and ear- marked with his mark, and to "cut out" and drive back each branded stray to his own range. All unbranded cattle over a year old are called ' ' ma v- ricks." They are brand d alike with some peculiar mark, and are either butchered or sold to defray the association's expenses. Sometimes they are given the brand of the man on whose range they are found. "Ear marked" cattle that have no brand are called "sleepers," and are disposed of in a similar manner. The association has an inspector in Kansas City who seizes all stolen cattle of the association's brands and sells them for his employers. A hide inspector also travels the road in the association's interests. Each stockholder has one vote and is assessed according to the number of cattle he owns. By the time we reached the camp the men had begun work. A half-dozen of them kept the cows in a close bunch, while a "roper" — in this case the captain — rode among them singling out with keen eye the unbranded calves and noting the brand of the mother. Then would come a swing of the right arm above his head, accompanied by a loud whir-r-r, SIO KOT A T HOME. the lasso would reach out with unerring precision, the looj) tighten upon neck, foot, or body of an unfortunate calf, whose loud cries and terrified struggles were a signal for the men at the fire to be in readiness. The roper, with just one glance to see that his victim is secure, urges his broncho toward the fire, wdiile the calf pulls and leaps and rolls and struggles, bawling all the while, and the mother, with flashing eyes and tossing horns, tears up the sod at a respect- ful distance or runs in a close circle about the fire. As the calf is dragged near, it is fastened upon by two men, who throw and hold it down, loosening the lasso that the "roper" may go back to his work. As the roper turns he draws in and winds up his rope, calling out the brand and mark to be given the calf — "H. I. K," "M. T. square," "rail 12, left side," "hour glass," " 12 by 12," " O. K. right side," etc., etc.; and the earmarks — " notch right," "slit left," " half-crop both," etc. This cry is repeated by the men who are holding the calf down, and again by the man who sits cross-legged with book and pencil, registering the animals as they are branded. Two other men then spring forward, one with a sharp knife to mark the ears, the other with the now red-hot iron to do the branding. The old stamping iron, I was told, has been all but abandoned, and in its place are used several irons shaped into a terminal bar or a simple curve. Thus the brander becomes virtually a printer, coolly standing above the pros- trate body till, with a few artistic (?) turns of the sizzling iron, he has stamped out the desired letters or mark, while the calf quivers and writhes and LETTKJiS FTtOM COLOnADO. 211 moans in vain. Then tiie four men spring away, and the released animal, bewildered by tlie double source of pain, bounds back to the herd to wonder how it all happened. By this time the roper has a couple more ready, one being held by two other men, and the torturing process is repeated. If the animal be large and inclined to be vicious, the first roper holds him by the neck or horns while a second " heels " him — i. e., lassoes one or both of his feet. Then he is thrown, not very gently, and the horses are backed to the ends of the ropes in opposite directions, and thus he is held to his place. Sometimes, in addition to this, two men sit astride him, and the ropes are not loosened till the branding is done. Once in a while the animal is so powerful as to snap the strong ropes ; then, if he has been partly marked and grows mad with the pain, the men must scatter to avoid his wrath. We w^atched the novel process with interest, though I must say we wasted considerable sympathy. One of the men said that while they Avere branding the first fifty calves we said " Oh ! poor thing !" just one hundred and fifty times by actual count — three exclamations for each calf. But don't you believe him, for I know it wasn't more than once for each. lie even had the audacity to remark that he didn't believe it hurt 'em to have only (?) the hair burnt off; and as for the ear marking, he believed they positively enjoyed it ! The training of the horses has been perfect. While the rider is roping he pays little heed to the bridle, and the horse keeps at the proper distance and angle from the chased animal. When the loop 212 NOT AT HOME. falls about the calf's neck he stops, frequently from a run, and leaning back braces himself until the calf, by his own struggles, has drawn up the loop. Then the horse will turn, without guidance other than the knee, and straining every nerve, draw the plunging creature forward. Often when an animal is held down by means of ropes the men will dismount to assist with the branding, and the ponies will remain statue-hke in their places puUing back on the ropes, which are fastened to the horns of the saddles. Toward the middle of the afternoon the cattle became so restless that the last few calves required a great deal of chasing, and redoubled vigilance was necessary on the ])art of those guarding the cows. After the unbranded had been marked the men began roping all of the "O.K." brand in order to "tally" them. The}^ had been purchased by the association, their owner guaranteeing a certain number of head. To " tally " means to catch each animal of the brand, place a long mark under the "O. K.," and record the number in the register; and as this had to do with cows as well as calves, much time and caution were requisite in subjecting them. "When an animal is transferred from seller to purchaser, the fact is made known by the seller's brand, inverted, being placed beneath the original brand, and the purchaser's being burned beside it. Once during the afternoon the captain sent one of the men back to camp for drinking water. Mounting the first horse he came to, he started off at the usual pace, a run, and presently reappeared at the same gait, holding a bucket of water at arm's length. And at another time a horseman came over the hill LETTERS FROM COLORADO. 213 from Wagon Mound with mail for "the boys''! Business ^vas suspended then for a few moments, and the horseman was surrounded by the men, eager for letters and papers. Before they were quite through branding our artist adjusted his camera and took several instanta- neous negatives of the scene from different points of view. This done the bunch was scattered, and we witnessed some scientific "cutting out" — the sepa- rating of certain cattle from the others —part to be thrown with tlie day lierd, part to be left. Then saddles and trappmgs were gathered, the tire scattered, irons cooled and fastened to the end of a lariat, to be dragged back, and we turned our heads campward. There we found "Clay" and his assist- ants preparing supper — one grinding coifee, one chopjiing wood, wliile the otliers busied themselves about the horses and tents. We tarried only to hear Captain C appoint his guards for the night, and to thank him for his royal entertainment; and declining tiie pressing invitation to take tea — or rather coffee — with them, we started for home, con- cluding that there are " more things in this world than are dreamed of in our philosophy." " Adios !" Yes, I must go; the end is come at last Of all this idle, dreamy, sweet repose. How swift the days of spring-time glided past! How sure the summer l)urns toward its close! The last time T went out in searcli of flowers, I found but few. Glancing back down the slope I 214 yOT AT HOME. was Struck by the general brownness of Nature's robes, by the hazy appearance of the far meadow hinds, and the smoky bhie of the cedar's shadows. Then I bethought me of the date, and how close September is treading on Summer's heels. Then I recollected that I had heard the doctor say that snoAV-falls \vould soon be frequent among the mountains, and that, a night or two before, Mrs. S. had supplied our bed with an extra coverlet. I remembered that our artist and his wife had already gone, and that Mr. Bland, principal of the AVatrous schools, had come down from Denver on Saturday, ]ireparatory to reopening his second year's work. Then I thought, with a sudden twinge of conscience, that I too have a school, somewhere at large in Kansas ; that I too must not be unmindful of duty in the midst of pleasure. The Summer's dead ; the season is closed ; vaca- tion is over; the sun is ''shaping his eternal circle southward." The streams are afloat with brown stems. " There is no wind to stir the leaves — The harsh leaves overhead; Only the querulous cricket grieves, And shrilling locust weaves A song of summer dead." So I have climbed my last mountain, ridden ray last broncho, taken my last notes — am writing my last letter. "God has set Labor and rest, as night and day, to men Successive," LETTERS FROM OLORADO. 21.-) says wise old Milton, and he is right. 1 have spent the summer- -not squandered it — but have used it lavishly and pleasurably and — yes — selfishly. But now comes autumn and the faint wind, the rustle of the leaves. All Nature says " To the work!" and I nmst obey, for it is right. I had hoped to pierce further into the mountain land, toward the Golden Gate, Where the sun drops from the heavens. Floating on the waters westward, As a red leaf in the autumn Falls and floats upon the waters — Falls and sinks into its bosom." But never mind ; there are many more summers coming, and Hope is an agreeable companion. Besides, " We cannot make bargains for blisses. Nor catch them, like lishes, in nets; And ofttimes the things our life misses Help more than the things which it gets." There is another attraction, as powerful as duty's call — "the tie? that bind my heart to home." I believe, with others, that Kansas is made over load- stone, and that every true Kansan, liowever far from home, 'mid scenes however pleasant, has some iron globules in his blood which irresistibly attract him toward her. I shall not say farewell to the mountains, the twin rivers, the c]iffs, the cedars', for I shall carry their 316 :\