. her from the day of her birth. When he
envorratic was in the first enlistment, long before he
sary bad returned to civil life, he had heen her
: father’s striker. He had held her upon a
burro and taught her to ride before she
could walk. = Therefore, he was justly an-
noyed. For the cleverest conspirator is
apt to overlook a detail, and Kitty had for-
gotten that the horse of a good rider which
has broken away, should have the bridle
over its head.
“I’m sure, Miss Kitty,’’ he said, ‘“‘that
it weren’t me learned you to leave the
reins hooded over the pommel when you
dismounted. And I should have thought
you could have mounted alone .any-
where.”
Kitty flushed. Of all things she was
proudest of her horsemanship.
Come on, little people, from cot and from hall ‘Do you think, O’Rourke, that you
Thais heart it has welcome and room for you | could catch Dandy for me?’’
Bellefonte, Pa., Feb. 10, 1899.
WITH TRUMPET AND DRUM.
With big tin trumpet and little red drum,
Marching like soldiers, the children come!
It’s this way and that way they circle and file—
My! but that music of theirs is fine!
This way and that way and after awhile
They will march straight into this heart of
mine!
A sturdy old heart, but it has to succumb
To the blare of that trumpet and beat of that
drum!
all! “I dunno,’’ said O'Rourke, ‘‘tain’t so
It will sing you its songs and warm you with | easy to catch a horse when the reins is over
love, the pommel.”’
As your dear little arms with my arms inter- But he wound the linesaround the brake
twine: and jumped down. The passenger was not
It will rock you away to the dreamland | to be outdone. He jumped down, too, and
above— together they went trotting across the
Oh, a jolly old heart is this old heart of mine, plain.
And jollier still is it bound to become Kitty had seen others try to catch Dandy.
When you blow that big trumpet and beat that | She climbed leisurely into the stage, and
red drum! dragged the mail pouch from under the
seat. She was frightened now, and cold
and trembling, and she threw quick glances
: A to where O’Rourke and the passenger were
1 livow Lie was hapry to bid me enshrine advancing and retreating, and deploying—
His memory deep in my heart with your | 6 ooo. within arm’s reach of Dandy. When
play— ; she had'stowed away in the crown of her
Ah me! but a love that is sweeter than mine cap a small package postmarked Bowie and
Holdeth my boy in its keeping to-day! addressed to Cady in a pointed, sprawling,
And my heart it is lonely—so, little folk come, almost feminine hand, she snapped the
March in and make merry with trumpet and lock. She had left the keys in the bag,
drum! : for she knew that the postmaster had du-
—Eugene Field. plicates. Then she steadied herself with a
long drawn breath, and, gathering her rid-
ing skirts about her, walked toward Dandy
; ¥ holding out her hand. Dandy had been
That Miss Foster was different from brought up to believe that this meant sugar
and more charming than all the rest of her | or nutmegs. He came, with neck out-
sex might have been proved from auy of | stretched, and muzzled in the little gloved
the fifteen men to whom she had been en- palm.
gaged in the two years since she had come “He is, sorry he was so naughty,” said
back from school, beginning with Cadet | Miss Foster, scratching the back of his ear,
Ferris and ending with Cady. ; “and he is going to be good,and never,nev-
That Captain Foster was exactly like all | er run away from his mistress again.”
the rest of mankind, and little deserved And then she rewarded O'Rourke by
the blessing he had in his daughter was | putting her booted foot in his great palm
manifested by his drawing from his pocket | and springing to her seat in a manner that
a letter, and saying as he gave it to her, | did his training credit. She smiled on the
‘‘By the bye, Kitty, this came for you yes- | passenger and thanked him sweetly.
terday while you were riding with Cady, | = “I hope the postmaster will not he angry
and I forgot to give it to you.” with me for delaying the transportation of
Miss Foster looked at the postmark and | the government mails,’ and she cantered
at the almost feminine chirography, and away.
knew that the letter was from Fort Bowie, | Cady sat himself upon the top sten of the
and from Glocester. She laid it beside her | porch ‘of Captain Foster’s quarters. Miss
plate and finished her breakfast. After-| Foster did the same. Cady’s face was
ward she took it up to her own room and | stern and set. Miss Foster's was white
read it. Then she sat with folded hands | and scared. There was a silence. Then
and looked, unseeing, at the photographs | Cady drew from his pocket a package of
of the fifteen upon the wall before her. She | Jetters. They were in Kitty's writing.
was very white: Kitty drew from her pocket another pack-
The most astute woman will frequently | age.” They were in Cady’s hand. Cady
stake everything and play all her game | spoke first.
upon honor in man. When that chances ““Here,”” he said, ‘‘is a bundle of letters
to fail. her calculations are set at naught, | four in number. They came to me in
and the bottom falls out of her universe. | to-day’s mail. They were accompanied by
And Glocester’s honor had failed. He | this note from Glocester. I need not as-
wrote—XKitty read it again--““So you tell | sure you that I have not read them, but I
me you are engaged to Cady. That means | gather from what he says that they are of
little to you. But it may mean much to | an exceedingly personal nature, and of very
him. Therefore, to prevent his beingfmade | recent date. You may guess my opinion
the fool that I have been, I have taken the | of Glocester. But,” he bent upon her a
liberty of sending him by this mail the let- | 100k of withering scorn, ‘‘you cannot guess
ters that you have written to me within | yy opinion of you.”
the last month—four in number—that he| ‘He held the bundle out io her. She
may know with what manner of woman he | pushed it away. Then she held up before
has to deal.” . a his eyes a package of much the same size.
Now, fourteen times before Miss Foster | He reached out for it quickly.
bad not been in earnest. But this time| «Not yet!’ said Kitty. ‘‘Here,”’ she
she was. Unfortunately, the fact that she | continued, ‘is a bundle of letters—six in
cared greatly for Cady had not prevented | umber. They came in to-day’s mail.
her from writing to Glocester more affec- | They were accompanied by a note from
tionately than prudently, in order to keep | Miss Fowler, of Bowie. I need not assure
him—t’other dear charmer who was away | yeu that I have read them. They are of
—upon her string, so long as it would hold | an exceedingly personal—I may say affec-
him without snapping. And the letters, | tionate—nature and of very recent date.
sent while she was actually engaged to| They were written by you to Miss Fowler.
Cady, were going to fall into his hands. | I read, too, the note with which she re-
It was a desperate situation. Bat, for all | gurned them. Here itis. You may find
her blue eyes and curls, and bewildering | it of interest—I did.’
ways, Miss Foster was the woman to| (Cady took the package she held out to
meet. : him. Miss Foster took the one Cady held
After a time she rose to her feet and Set | out to her. And again there was silence.
her lips. It is a peculiarity of Cupid’s| Then the lieutenant spoke. ‘“To whom,
bow lips that they can set, upon occasions. | may I ask, were the letters from Miss Fow-
She knew that Cady had not yet received iB Spm id
those letters. And she determined that “To you.”
he never should. She would rob the| And may I also ask how, in that
stage. . : event, they came into your possession?’
Guard mounting was just over, and the Miss Foster considered. ‘‘No.”’
stage was not due until noon. Kitty set a Cady put his package in his pocket and
big hat a-tilting upon her curls and walked | fastened the blouse over them. Then he
down to the post office Fate, with her | sat looking over the parade ground. After
partiality for the brave and fair, willed | a time he put his hands on his knees and
that the post master should have left his | turned and faced Miss Foster.
desk. Miss Foster pushed open the gate | Well?” he said. Kitty’seyes had been
and went behind the rail. The keys to | cast down, so that her iong lashes lay upon
the mail bag hung upon their hook. She | her cheeks. She raised them. He looked
put them in her pocket. When the post | down steadily into their blue and twink-
master came back she was placidly mark- | ling depths.
ing his clean blotter with the letter stamp. | “Well?” echoed Kitty. And then he
“If you please, Mr. Jones,’’ she said, *'I| smiled.
want this letter registered. Miss Foster gave a huge sigh of relief.
An hour later Miss Foster reigned up her | “Isn't it curious,” she said, “how exactly
horse on the top of a rise and looked across | alike Miss Fowler and Mr. Glocester
the flat stretch of greasewood, and cactus | write? Any one might have been de-
and sage. Far away a tiny speck was | ceived.” 2
crawling toward her along the white 10ad. | Which was not very relevant; but Cady
It was the stage. She had been born upon | did not ask what she meant. Irrelevancy
the plains, and she had an unfailing eye | was one of Miss Foster's many charms.—
for its distances. There would be full half | Gwendolen Overton in the Argonaut.
an hour to wait. She cast about for some : !
way of killing time and found a deep,
wide fissure in the parched earth. It ap-
pealed to her daring. She put her horse to —
a'run and jumped it time and again until The bardest blow, embalmed heef has
he was winded. Then rode again to the | yet received, comes from Major W. H.
crest of the slope. The stage was near. | Daly, on General Miles’ staff. He wrote
She dismounted. felt of the girths, and sat | the official report, and says that even flies
down, hugging the tiny noonday shade of a | shunned the beef. The following was part of
mesquite bush, for the sun was burning | his testimony before the war investigation
down from a hard, blue sky. A big red | commission:
ant was carrying a beetle’s wing many! General Beaver—‘‘What was the posi-
times larger than itself. Kitty watched it | tion of the quarter that was exhibited?’
until she heard the rattle of traces as the| Major Daly—‘‘It was hung up full in
stage climbed the other side of the slope. | the sun. I observed that flies, while they
Then she commended her soul to heaven | lit on men’s faces and hands, did not light
and brought her quirt down upon the | on the beef, or if they did they quickly
horses black flank. left it. That struck me as peculiar.”
The stage driver drew up his stock, and | General Beaver—‘‘Did you see more
the one passenger put out his head and | than that quarter?”’
shoulders and gazed at the slender way Major Daly—‘'No, sir, I cut of a piece
figure rising alone in the midst of the |of it and put it in my pocket. Later I
prairie. cooked and tasted it. It did not have a
“Whatever, Miss Kitty,” ——the driver | natural smell or taste. It made me vomit
stopped short. He saw the horse grazing | and gave a burning sensation in my stom-
off u bunch of stumpy grass, a hundred | ach.” ; :
yards away. Kitty went a step nearer and The witness then stated that about that
laid her hand on the wheel. She had seen | time some of the men who had been cor-
that there was no woman in the stage. A | ralling horses became sick with stomach
woman would have upset all the calcula- | trouble. At first he thought it was due to
tions. She raised her big blue eyes. The | over-exercise, but afterward their symp-
men who could have resisted them were | toms reminded him of beef that he once
So come; though I see not his dear little face
And hear not his voice in this jubilant place,
HIGHWAY ROBBERY.
Flies Would Not Touch It.
few. Those in the stage listened now to a | analyzed and found that it contained saly-
tale caiculated to melt a heart of stone. ‘eylie acid, borax and other ingredients.
“I was just out for a little ride,’’ said | Major Daly declared that they certainly
Kitty, ‘‘and my girths were loose, so I dis- | destroy digestion, cause nausea and de-
mounted to clinch up, and that horrid | bilitate any person eating meat so pre-
Dandy got away. If you had not come, | served. :
I don’t know whatever I should have
done.”’ ! ii aE ate
Miss Foster would not have heen the wo- {+ ——Mis. Julia Dent Grant, widow of
man she was if tears—the genii of the lamp | General Grant, is now more than 70 years
of fair femininity—had not risen at her | old, and having grown quite feeble, rarely
will. The driver looked again at the horse | Jeaves her Washineton home. Her sight
and back at Miss Foster. He had known | ig rapidly failing. 2
THE MOUNTAINS AND PLAINS
OF COLORADO.
Over the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe to Colorado Springs, the Mecca of
Politicians and the Foot of Pike's Peak.—14,149 Feet Above
the Level of the Sea.— Sensations While Climbing the
Peak on the Cog-wheel Railway—Cheyenne
Canon and the Garden of the Gods.
Beneath the rocky peak that hides in clouds its snow-flecked crest,
Within these crimson crags abides an Orient in the West.
These tints of flame, these myriad dyes, this Eastern desert calm,
Should catch a gleam of Syrian skies, or shade of Egypt's palm.
Having returned to Denver on Monday night, September 12th, after the most de-
lightful trip to Ward, the gold mining camp at the terminus of the Colorado and
Northwestern railroad, we remained on our cars, hecause we were scheduled to leave
for Colorado Springs next morning at 3 o’clock. The run to the latter place was made
over the Atchison, Topeka and Santa Fe tracks and the fact that my sleep was undis-
turbed from the time I retired until I woke up, Tuesday morning, in Colorado Springs
is the best testimonial of the carefulness with which our train was handled by the
Atchison people. :
Colorado Springs is almost due south of Denver, 74 miles. It is a city of 11,140
people and occupies a site at the foot of the Rockies that is as level as a floor. Its al-
titude of 5,092 feet and its proximity to the Garden of the Gods, Cheyenne Canon and
Pike’s Peak combine to make it a popular resort for invalids and tourists. When we
arrived there Tuesday morning the city showed no evidence of the belligerency that
had characterized it the week before, when several Republicans were killed during a
factional quarrel at their state convention—then holding. The peaceful aspect of
Colorado Springs, as I walked up Pike’s Peak avenue, the main thoroughfare of the
city, that fair September morning, was in marked contrast with the newspaper stories
of her warlike disposition that 1 had read in Denver the week before. The warm sun-
shine felt so cheerful after the snow squalls in Denver and Loveland, the atmosphere
was so pure and the blue of the sky so true that I made up my mind that it could not
have been Colorado Springs that had been bad. Consequently it must have been the
Republicans. It was notan illogical deduction, for I knew Pennsylvania Republi-
cans and there was nothing to suggest the idea that they might be any better in Colo-
rado than they are here—at least the ones who are doing nothing to give themselves
an opportunity of setting up at the ‘‘old man’s’”’ wake.
"At the head of Pike’s Peak avenue stood the Antler’s hotel, a magnificent house,
the position of which might be aptly compared to that of the court house in Belle-
fonte, except that that avenue is about twice as wideas High street. I took breakfast
there and it was so delectable that I felt genuine regret when I read of the destruc-
tion of the place by fire soon after my return East. After looking about the hotel for
a few moments and poring over the dear old WATCHMAN, the first I had received
since leaving home, a car came along en route for Pike's Peak. While I wanted to
take the trip it is but honest to confess, right here, that it was only taken after a
most heroic struggle. All sorts of stories had been told me about people collapsing
and bleeding at the nose, mouth and ears when ascending to such an altitude, until I
tasted blood in every swallow and looked at my kerchief continually to see if any
signs could be found of the atmosphere’s getting too thin to keep my heart from
spraying it with gore. There was no more time for debate, however, as the car was
moving and scarcely knowing what I was doing I was on board and rolling off toward
Colorado City and Manitou as fast as well regulated trolleys could take me.
Colorado Springs, Colorado City and Manitou are three towns, separately in-
corporated, yet almost joined together. The former is the new town, the City the old
and Manitou the place which mineral springs and over hanging mountain crags pecu-
liarly adapts for resort hotels. Almost every building is a hotel and, I was going to say
that every man I saw was a cab man crying the virtues of his horses and hack and his
own ability to describe the points of interest, hut there were a few others. All, like
me, looking anything but pleased with the prospect of it, but bent on getting to the
top of Pike’s Peak or busting. After numerous rests and gasping for breath that was
anything but reassuring to my disturbed nerve, we finally reached the station of the
cog-wheel railroad, paid our $3.75 round trip fare and took a seat in the one car that
carries about fifty people. If you picture to yourself a railroad built from the water
course in the gap below the nail works, along the side of Muncy mountain, so that it
would strike the top back of the Alexander farm you will have a fair idea of about
how steep the grade is on that Pike’s Peak cog railroad. It requires an engine to push
one car up. Oil is the fuel used in the engines aud their tender ends are stilted away
up to make the boiler level on such steep grades. The track is like an ordinary rail-
road track, except that between the rails there is a cog track into the teeth of which a
cog wheel on the engine works, thus rendering slipping an impossibility and holding
the ground that has been made. In order that you sit naturally in the cars the front
legs of the seats are very short, while the back ones are long.
With a clang of the bell and a snort of the little engine we started for the top. I
noticed several women who were too timid to go up kiss their husbands good-bye and
cling to them as if the parting was for eternity. The first sensations were enough
to make most anyone feel a little funny. The track was so terribly steep, the engine
labored so hard and the car had a motion that made me feel very much as if I were on
a camel’s back on the Streets of Cairo, instead of ascending Pike’s Peak.
Difficult, indeed, is the task of trying to describe what may be seen from a train
ascending the Peak. A picture for the mind, of the varied tints and colors, and
constantly changing panorama, can reach it only through the human eye.
The lower terminus of the cog wheel road is situated at the mouth of Engel-
maun’s canon, whose sides are formed by the slopes of Manitou and Hiawatha moun-
tains. Rushing through this canon, now swiftly flowing beside us, again, far below,
dashing madly on over the massive boulders and forming numberless cascades and
waterfalls, is Ruxton creek, a sparkling mountain stream, whose source is the perpet-
ual snow, and which was followed for two and three-fourths miles.
The scenes and points of interest en route were many. Passing into the canon to
the left, a short distance from our starting point, were Shady Springs, hidden under the
slope of the massive mountain upon which rests Gog and Magog. To the right was the
Lone Fisherman, who patiently fishes from the top of the northern wall of the canon.
Next entering the Grand Pass where we saw the Echo Falls, named from the Echo
rocks above, from whose high walls the sound of dashing waters is distinctly rever-
berated. Just beyond was the Natural Creek tunnel, and arched waterway, formed by
fallen boulders, through which the streams flows. Passing the stupendous Hanging
Rock and Frog Rock, we were soon at Artist’s Glen, from where a good view of Cam-'
eron’s Cone (10,695 feet,) and the Garden of the Gods was had. Next, on the
right, was the Plum Pudding, on the left, the Turtle and Punch, and passing through
a natural gateway we came into view of Minnehaha Falls. There is a picturesque
group of Swiss cottages, set among the pines and occupied by pleasure-seekers. Liz-
ard Rock, Pinnacle Rock. The Devil’s Slide, Woodland Park, the Elk’s Head and the
Fleuride gold mine were left bebind, and we suddenly came upon the Half-Way House,
a comfortable little hotel situated in a beautiful grove at the foot of Grand View Rock,
where a short stop was made. :
Up through the narrow ragged walls of Hell’s Gate we steamed to enter the verdant
Ruxton and Aspen Parks. over which Bald and Sheep Mountains as sentinels stand;
there, for two aud one-quarter miles, a comparatively level stretch was traveled, and a
good view of the ‘‘Grand Old Mountain’’was had; and, as we were almost directly under
the summit, we gained a better idea of the altitude than from avy other point of view.
Our train stopped a few minutes to replenish its supply of water, as
we had before us the longest and steepest incline on the road, winding around the
southern side of the mountains; as we ascended, the mountains to the east seemed to
sink until they became mere foot hills, and our view to the east and south became more
extended. From Inspiration Point we saw far below us a glacial lake covering 110
acres; glacial rocks, upon which are marks showing the unmistakable action of ice in
ages past; Mount Badly, Mount Garfield, Bear Creek Canon and the Southern Moun-
tains. After passing Timber Line (11,578 feet) we crossed a great field of broken rock,
in which are small areas where enough soil is found for some small mosses and many
low Alpine plants to find root; and where, in certain seasons, there is a profusion of
these small flowers which one would hardly expect to find at so great an altitude.
When Winding Point was reached we got our first western view and were but a
short distance from the summit, which was reached in one and one-half hours after
leaving Manitou:
The world was then before us! And rare, indeed, would he the art that could pic-
ture to the soul, unaided by the sense of sight, the unapproachable magnitude of the
view that greeted my bewildered eye. Spread out before us was a mighty
panorama of 40,000 square miles. To the east was a gay confusion of
buffalo plains, streams and flowering fields dotted over with villages and cities.
Colorado Springs, Manitou and the Garden of the Gods were at our feet, and looked like
flower beds. To the south were Seven Lakes, the Raton Mountains of New Mexico and
the famous Spanish Peaks; the cities of Pueblo, Florence, Canon City and Altman,—
the highest mining town in Colorado,—and the Arkansas valley; Cripple Creek and
Bull Hill appeared to be but a stone’s throw, and the various mines, settlements, cabins,
and busy railways were plainly seen. To the west, protruding its glistening crests
above the clouds, was the Sangre de Christo range, spreading out its sheet of perpetual
snow and freshening the air that you greet with the vigor it stimulates; Buffalo,
Blanca, Ouray, Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Holy Cross and Elbert peaks are in that
direction at distances varying from 60 to 150 miles. To the north were the abyss;
Gray’s and Long’s peaks, the furthest north of any we saw in the Continental Divide;
and Denver, Castle Rock and Manitou Park.
To the commonplace man this trip is like living a chapter from one of Jules
Verne’s romances. He meets no antediluvian monsters to be sure, but he visits scenes
where these can easily be imagined. Whatever susceptibility to grand impressions,
whatever poetic fancies the dullest mind may have, are sure to be aroused and exer-
cised by such an experience.
The barometer on the summit of Pike’s Peak stands at about seventeen inches,
and water boils at 184 degrees Fahrenheit. Is it wonderful that the human body and
the human mind, in these new conditions, manifest new feelings?
The United States signal station buildings (the highest observatory in the coun-
try,) are of interest. The first building, erected in 1876, the scene of the late Ser-
geant O’Keefe’s sorrow, and which afforded the first signal officers shelter, is quite
small, and was abandoned in 1882 for the more commodious stone house, built in
that year under the direction of chief signal officer, Gen. Wm. B. Hazen.
After a three quarters of an hour spent in picking out the various towns. streams,
peaks aud parks, we returned to Manitou with the feeling of having witnessed the
grandest scenic panorama visible from any accessible point.
Magnificent as it was they say the trip by rail is not nearly so inspiring as to take
the foot trail. We passed many people who were walking or riding on burros, bus
want of time made it necessary for us to make the trip as speedily as possible. I must
say that in one sense the experience was a disappointment to me. I had fully
expected some direful results, but noticed no effect other than an extreme weakness.
Everybody was walking around with about the same spirit that a consumptive in the
last stages displays. The atmosphere was so rare you felt as if you could reach out
and touch everything you saw. The top of the peak is nothing more than a stony-
batter about one hundred yards in diameter and it was quite amusing to watch people
trying to step from one stone to another, that seemed only a step distant, when it was
really several yards. .The only person in the hundred or more who were up there at
that time who seemed affected was an old man whom I knew had fortified him-
self beyond his proving record with something stronger than Manitou-champagne.
He got pretty wobbly, but they get the same way right here in Bellefonte from the
same cause. Our trip up the Peak was made under exceptionally favorable circum-
stances. It was the first day in a long time that several storms were not encountered
in the ascent. The top was not deep with snow as you might expect. In fact there
seemed to be very littlesnow in sight. All there was there was not near enough to cov-
er the stones. It was quite cold on the top, what snow there is there never melts
and a heavy overcoat is needed to make it comfortable even for a short stay.
Away up, almost at the timber line, was a little building at which the train
stopped and a man got on board the car. He rode with us to the top, meanwhile tak-
ing the names of all the travelers, and when we reached that point he jumped on a
little toboggan arrangement he had and started down the steep grade like the wind.
When we reached the little house again on the downward trip be was on board in a
jiffy with an edition of the Pike’s Peak Daily News, a little paper that he prints away
up there among the clonds. As it always contains the name of every tourist it is not
difficult to dispose of the papers at a dime each.
ll I I
Iv was about noon when we found ourselves safe at the bottom of the Peak again.
There were the women who had given their husbands the last farewell waiting for the
car’s return. I didn’t stop to see whether the expressions on their faces were ones of
disappointment or pleasure, for both the Garden of the Gods and Cheyenne Canons
were to be seen that afternoon and I had to hurry. The canons are two ragged gashes
cut in the red granite of Cheyenne mountain and at their deepest points are about
1,500 feet. The South canon jis about a mile long, at some places is scarcely more
than 40ft. wide and is threaded by a dancing little mountain torrent. At its pro-
foundest cleavage there are seven falls. At the end of the canon there is a wall 300
feet in height down which pours a silvery flood, making seven distinct leaps. From
the top of the falls the outlook is sublime. North canon is wider and longer than
South, but not nearly so inspiring. >
The ladies of Colorado Springs served luncheon in the canon that afternoon and
received so graciously that I felt as if I could sit down there and be content for the
rest of my life. What an ideal sepulchre it had been for the body of Helen Hunt
Jackson, whose life-work was given to an attempt to improve the condition: of Indians
some of whom had probably camped between its sheltering walls long before. There
her body laid.in all the solemn grandeur of the place until it had to be removed to
the cemetery at Colorado Springs because some Shylock was demanding his pound
of flesh for the privilege of seeing her grave.
Il
No words of mine will describe the wonderful works of nature in the Garden of
the Gods. From a distance the entrance looks like a lot of gigantic red-granite rocks,
standing erect as if defiant of the wasting of ages that had probably worn them down
from mountain chains.
Approached from the west the entrance is through what may aptly be called a
postern gate in contrast with the entrance from the east through the grand gateway.
In this solitude nature has perpetrated many strange freaks of sculpture and of archi-
tecture, as if she were diverting herself after the strain of the mighty mood in which
the mountains were brought forth. Solitude is here unbroken by the residence of
man, but inanimate forms of stone supply quaint and grotesque suggestions of life.
Here are found hints of Athens and the Parthenon, Palmyra and the Pyramids, Kar-
nac and her crumbling columns. Many of these monoliths are nearly tabular and
reach the height of three and four hundred feet. Two of the loftier ones, with a
small space between, make the two portals of the famed gateway. After their form,
the most striking feature is their color, which glows with an intensity of red unknown
in any of the sandstones of the East. Standing outlined against a spotless sky of blue,
with the white light of the sun falling upon them, these portals flash with the bright
splendor of carnelian. The inanimate forms have received appropriate designations.
There is a ‘*Statue of Liberty,”’ a ‘‘Cathedral Spire,” a ‘‘Dolphin,’”’ a ‘Bear and
Seal,’’ a ‘‘Lion,”’ a ‘‘Griffin,’’ and hundreds of other quaint and curious figures, mak-
ing a list far too extended for recapitulation here. No words can describe the weird
attractions of this wonderful garden, which, once beheld, however, can never be for-
gotten. The impression is of something mighty, unreal and supernatural. Of the
gods surely—but of the gods of the Norse Walhalla in some of their strange outbursts
of wild rage or uncouth playfulness.
After completing the drive through the Garden we continued on up to Glen
Eyrie, the home of the president of the D. and R. G., a veritable dreamland of a place.
Then we crossed the mesa and were once more in Colorado Springs. .A mesa is what
we would call the large flat top-of a big hill and out there when one of the hills are
too small to. have anything. more than a peak for a top they call them buttes—pro-
nounced exactly as if you were saying beauty and left the y off.
x
The late afternoon and evening I spent wondering about Colorado Springs, a
beautiful city, a health resort world famed, and the home of many of the wealthy
mine owners who are operating in the Cripple Creek region. The city has 25 miles of
electric railway, perfect telephone and sewerage systems, several costly. public school
buildings, churches, two hospitals, three clubs and the Colorado State College. The
place of most interest to me was the Union Printer’s home, a magnificent building oc-
cupying an elevated site about 2 miles from the city. It was founded by the late
Geo. W. Childs and Anthony J. Drexel, of Philadelphia. They gave $10,000 for it in
1886 and every year since each one of the Union printers in the United States gives an
hour’s wages a year for its support. Those east of the Mississippi on Mr. Child’s
birthday; those west on Mr. Drexel’s. The home was dedicated on May 12th,
1892, and up to date has cost $250,000. Many of its spacious parlors and entertain-
ment rooms have been furnished as memorials. The place is maintained exclusively
for wornout union printers and there they may have a home, comfortable, clean, pleas-
ant and healthful, when they are no longer able to provide for themselves.
In the post-office building I found Will Laurie, a brother of J. Malcolm Laurie,
of this place. He was a boy in Bellefonte, but is married now and has charge of the
money order department in the post-office; a very responsible and lucrative position
in an office doing the immense business of that sort that is done there.
The evening was spent at a reception in Coburn library, given to the party by the
ladies of the town and the members of the faculty of the Colorado State College. It
was a very informal function, since our parity had been compelled to leave all finery
behind us at Denver, because the train was so heavy that a baggage car could not be
carried, consequently we were living in hand-bags, so to speak. Wolf Londoner, im-
perturbable at all times, relieved the embarrassment of the ladies of the party by
making a paradoxical speech to the hosts, in which he swore that they all had more
clothes, that is gowns that were less clothes, for he had seen them and been charmed
in Denver. ‘After the reception we bade farewell to our new found friends in Colo-
rado Springs and returned to the cars in order to get rest for the next days’ sight
seeing in the famous Cripple Creek region—that is, most of the party did, but I was
one of a few who had contracted to sit up ‘a few hours with the members of
the Kinnikinick club, the swell organization. of the city. They had a real
night in Bohemia and as ideal club men everyone of them seemed to the manner
born. With a good orchestra, brimming bowls and everything for the smoker
from an opium pipe down to a cigarette combined, what more could have been wished
for. There was more, however, for Percy Hemus was there to sing and W. McK.
Barbour led as fine a ballet as ever human optics rolled along. They danced every-
thing from the stately (?) delsartian (?) wiggles of the hooche kooche to the gymnas-
tic contortions of Rag-time Liz. The entertainment was par excellence and the memory
of Colorado Springs that I carried away that morning at 4 o'clock will hardly fade, if
I live to be a thousand years old. GEORGE R. MEEK.
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