By the Golden Gate | Page 5

the
window was sold at auction by the customs' officials, and Dean Hart
bought it for $25. As we rode about the city the courteous driver, a Mr.
Haney, pointed out a beautiful house embowered in trees, which had a
romantic history. A young man of Denver was engaged to be married to
a young woman. She jilted him and married another, and while she was
on her wedding tour her husband died. The house in which she lived
was offered for sale at this juncture, and the original suitor bought it
and turned her out into the street. He had his revenge, which shows that
human nature is the same the world over. Had he offered her the house
to live in, however, it would have been a nobler revenge, "overcoming
evil with good."
It is but a short ride from Denver to Colorado Springs, which is a
delightful spot with 21,000 inhabitants, and here is a magnificent hotel
a block or two from the railway station called the New Antlers. The
Rev. Dr. H.H. Messenger, of Summit, Mississippi, an apostolic looking
clergyman, with his wife, accompanied us from Denver to Colorado
Springs, and also to Manitou, at the foot of Pike's Peak and the mouth
of the Ute Pass. From Manitou we drove to the Garden of the Gods,
comprising about five hundred acres, and went through this mysterious
region with its fantastic and wonderful formations, which seem to
caricature men and beasts and to mimic architectural creations. Here we
saw the Scotchman, Punch and Judy, the Siamese Twins, the Lion, the
elephant, the seal, the bear, the toad, and numerous other creatures. We
also viewed the balanced rock, at the entrance, and the Gateway Cliffs,
at the northeast end of the Garden, and the Cathedral spires. Everything
was indeed startling, and as puzzling as the Sphinx in old Egypt. Nature
was certainly in a playful mood when, with her chisel and mallet, she

carved these grotesque forms out of stones and rocks.
On the outskirts of Manitou the "Haunted House" was pointed out by
the guide, who said that a man and his wife and their son had been
murdered here. No one would live in the house now. He asked me if I
believed in "Ghosts." I said I was not afraid of dead men, and that I did
not think they came back to disturb us. He seemed to agree with me,
but hastened to say that he "met a clergyman yesterday who said he
believed in them." The house in Manitou which, of all others, interested
me most, was the pretty vine-covered cottage of Helen Hunt Jackson,
who wrote "Ramona." It was she, who, with a fine appreciation of
nature, gave this wild and secluded spot, with its riddles in stone, the
suggestive name of "The Garden of the Gods."
At noon on Friday, October 7th, I boarded the Pullman train at
Colorado Springs, on the Denver and Rio Grande Railway, for Salt
Lake City. On this train was my old friend the Rev. James W. Ashton,
Rector of St. Stephen's Church, Olean, N.Y., whom I had not seen for
years, and from this hour he was my constant travelling companion for
weeks in the California tour, ready for every enterprise and adventure.
At Pueblo were some quaint Spanish-looking buildings, and farther on
we were among the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. Our train
gradually ascended the heights skirting the bank of the Arkansas River,
which was tawny and turbid for many a mile. But the Grand Cañon of
the Arkansas, with its eight miles of granite walls and its Royal Gorge
towering nearly three thousand feet above us! It is rightly named. I
cannot undertake to describe it accurately. Here are grand cliffs which
seemingly reach the heavens, and in some places the rocky walls come
so near that they almost touch each other. As you look up, even in
midday, the stars twinkle for you in the azure vault. As the train sped
on, toiling up the pass through the riven hills and crossing a bridge
fastened in the walls of the gorge and spanning the foaming waters, you
felt as if you were shut up in the mysterious chambers of these eternal
mountains. It is a stupendous work of the Creator, and man dwarfs into
littleness in the presence of the majesty of God here manifested as
when Elijah stood on Horeb's heights.

It was a pleasant task to study the scenery, wild beyond description at
times; and then you would pass upland plains with cattle here and there,
and mining camps. That is Leadville, a mile or so yonder to the north;
and the children who have come down to the station have valuable
specimens of ore in their little baskets, to