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whereof I have here written, and the reader is left to form conclusions respecting the "truth of history." Now for the extract, which I give verbatim, typographically and grammatically, omitting the old style of the long "S:" "I shall only take a brief view of such of their beasts and fowls, as either this old world did not know, or knew not in such shapes and qualities as are these presented. Their Lions, less in greatness than those in Africa, are said to be of color grey, and so nimble as to climb trees; their dogs, snouted like foxes, but deprived of that property which the Logicians call Proprium quarto modo, for they could not bark; their hogs with talons sharp as razors, and the navil of their bodies on the ridge of their backs; their stags and deer without horns; their sheep, (they call them Lamas) not only profitable, as with us, for food and raiment, but accustomed to the carrying of burthens, some of 150 pound weight. Amongst such strong beasts as this old world knew not, we may reckon that deformed one (whose name I find not) whose forepart resembleth a fox, the hinderpart an ape, except the feet only, which are like a man's: beneath her belly a receptacle like a purse, where she keeps her young, till they be able to shift for themselves; never coming thence but when they suck, and then in again."

The author of the above extract must have seen Artemus Ward's favorite show animal, the kangaroo, or

perhaps a "possum."

It is evidently

a desirable thing for those who tire, in the later days, to find a historian who was pleased to become so exact in detailing what he knew of this undiscovered region that Johnny Bull could know just how it was himself, and possibly the modern Rudyard Kipling may be able to enlighten all England in a like strain of rigid exactness, now that he is doing this section, to his infinite delight and rigid exactness, you know.

Gold has no more been the source of individual wealth in Colorado than has cattle. The thousands, and tens. of thousands who prospect on the mountains and wear out their picks and shovels, their patience and the contents of their purses, would have found a surer mine on the plains had they followed the tails of a herd of long-horned Texas steers. Too many build their hopes upon too unstable a foundation.

Cattle growing in Colorado, is practically reduced to a science; men have come to know how to deal with them, and make the most for the time and money spent in bringing them up to a market standard. The field of operators is unlimited; some have compared the circuit which vast herds of these cattle are compelled to take in reaching a market, much like the Gulf Stream, circling the North American Continent as the water stream sweeps the Atlantic ocean. The cattle come here from Old Mexico, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and

the Indian Territory. They are herded and fattened in Colorado, sent by railroad eastward, finding a market in Missouri, Illinois, Ohio, Indiana, New York, New England, Pennsylvania; and many follow this cattle Gulf Stream, so to speak, all along the Atlantic coast, even to Florida, while many a fatted steer has taken the circle through all these states and finally tickled the palate of the epicures of Mobile and New Orleans, and possibly back to Galveston.

The circuit is continually changed by frequent detours to Europe-the beef-eaters of England are willing to raise their embargo against the food which goes from these plains, when they find it so healthful, nutritious, delicious and so cheap.

The old-time method of herding and driving cattle to market, has long since fallen out of use, the comfortable cars, and compulsory laws.

which compels proper care, has taken the place of tedious driving along the roadways. The driver's shout is no longer heard in the eastern village, with men and boys on horseback, swinging their long, black-snakes to force their wayward herds in the path they should go.

There are many real cattle kings in Colorado-men who have followed the cows to pasture until they can count their gains by the hundred thousand, all because a steady application has brought them to a happy enjoyment of the fruits of a well applied labor.

Cattle may be king of the plains, and silver the queen of the mountains; there is no law of divorce that would presume to meddle with such a homogenious union. The king lives: Long live the king! And cattle may be rated as king of Colorado. GEORGE F. MARSHALL.



We never tire of a ride on this beautiful lake, with its deep green waters. We spent a quiet, restful Sunday at Geneva-it is the only Sunday, as we observe it, since we have been on the Continent-the stores are closed, all business ceases, and the people go to church. We found our way to the beautiful American chapel-a nice piece of architecture of stone, covered with vines, and large grounds around it, with an inviting appearance-and we gladly walked in with our hearts full of thankfulness that we could again find a place where we could worship God in such a home-like place, with hearts of gratitude for good health and such an enjoyable tour without a moment's illness, although where we had been, the climate at this season of the year is considered unfavorable for travelers. The room was well filled with Americans, and all around us they are devotional and reverent. The rector is either a Swiss or German, judging by his accent, but his was the first sermon we have heard in English since we left Paris. We enjoyed the simple service and hymns, all in such contrast with the service in the cathedrals, with the glorious music from the grand old organs, and

the voices of the monks so full of harmony-having had a life-long training. The worship of the Arabs we could sympathize with, as they bow themselves so many times to the floor looking toward Mecca; they seem very devoted as they come into the mosque after performing their ablutions in the fountain at the entrance of the mosque. I hope I have charity. for all, even these Moslems, who think we Protestants are sure to go to hell. We have worshipped in the cathedrals of the Catholics, in the mosques of the Moslems and in the temples of the Jews, where our silent prayers can ascend to the only true and living God.

This morning the rain poured down, but by seven o'clock the clouds lifted and the sun came out clear and bright. Our steamer flies numerous gay flags in honor of the fete at Vevey, where we go. We are glad to see the green fields on the banks and the rich green foliage after seeing only dried fields and no green lawns for so long a time. The Swiss villas on the lake are beautiful; there are many rich palaces, but one of the most attractive is that of the "Rothschilds." The sky is overcast with clouds and the snow mountains are obscured

from view, as the great white clouds hang around their summits and lie gracefully in the recesses. At every landing place the Swiss crowd the steamer on their way to the "Fete des Vignerons," which commences today at the beautiful village of Vevey, and lasts about a week. When in Switzerland, we always linger a few days at Vevey; it is a quiet restful place at the head of the lake.

As we come in sight of Vevey we see flags flying from towers and flag staffs; a great crowd is lining the shore and the streets are full of people. We pass a great amphitheatre. in which there are from ten to fifteen thousand people. This is a great day for Vevey on account of the grand "Fete des Vignerons." It is an event which happens once in a generation, and the people in Vevey are evidently making the most of it. The history of the celebration, I learn from a friend, is as follows:

The fete in its most primitive form dates back the Benedictine monks of Haut Cret, who seemed to have cared equally for the bodies as for the souls of the people. In 1140 they introduced vine-culture on the famous "sides" of the Desaley and the general inspection of the plants every autumn was celebrated by a feast. Gradually the culture of the vine developed and the workers formed themselves into a "Confrerie des Vignerons." A fire destroyed the archives of the Brotherhood in 1688, so that it is impossible to give an exact descrip

tion of their pastoral fete. Tradition, however, says that they celebrated the success of the first vintage by a dinner, songs, and dances. The chief winedressers arrayed themselves in vine branches and leaves, one to represent Noah, to their idea the first agriculturist, and another as Bacchus, the patron of their trade. Then they visited the vineyards of the brotherhood and if any member had neglected the culture of his vines his land was confiscated to the society and other workers were appointed to put it in order. Prizes, on the other hand, were distributed to the most industrious. Little by little the fete became less pastoral and more showy and brilliant. In the 18th century the religious elements dropped away and more of the Olympic deities walked into the celebration. Bacchus, now in the form of a gros gaillard, with red face and Falstaffian figure seated upon a wine cask; Ceres, in the person of a pretty blonde, bearing the fruits of the district; Pales, decked in the costume and ribbons of the mountain shepherd, the guardian of their flocks and herds. At the last celebration the ideas and figures were still further elaborated and this year's programme puts all its predecessors in the shade. To carry out the enormous amount of preparatory work, the committee had to appoint specialists for the design of costumes, the composition of songs, music and ballets and the organization of the different troupes. Some of the best known

poets, artists, and musicians in Switzerland have been engaged in this work. The result is a magnificent programme of entertainment extending over the four days, August 5th, 6th, 8th and 9th. The decorations are splendid, and we understand that forty thousand dollars have been expended on the costumes. They parade the streets in their old costumes of centuries ago. Each of the allegorical groups has a Grand High Priest at its head, who sings a recitative as the followers pass round before the grand stands, and the general body take up the chorus. First comes the group of Pales, with followers representing scenes from spring, and followed by a ballet; groups of shepherds and shepherdesses, gardeners, reapers, and haymakers, herdsmen leading their animals and one of Appenzall "Yodlers." Each group sings a characteristic song as it passes; and all in appropriate costume. Then the troupe of Ceres, with scenes representing summer, with bodies of reapers, gleaners, threshers, binders, etc., who dance and sing in the same way. The troupe of Bacchus is followed by winedressers and ballet, and then a troupe of tonneliers, faunes, and Bacchantes, singing a bacchanale as they skip by. Finally a group representing a "Village Noce," who dance the waltz of Lauterbach, and then all the figures sing the finale, with the accompaniment of half a dozen bands.

The fete opened at seven o'clock in the morning. When I looked out of

my window at 5 o'clock, the rain poured down and everything seemed. unpropitious; the rain, we understood, had been coming down for several weeks; but when at 7 o'clock the clouds disappeared, everybody was glad. The rain had cleaned the streets and cooled the atmosphere, and everything was lovely. It was a great curiosity to see the Swiss peasants in the streets, but there are old time costumes representing the different cantons, such as are seen in the pictures which I procured here in 1878. Our hotel-the Grand Hotel. of Vevey-seems to be full of Americans and English who have been drawn here by this unusual celebration. We have never seen anything in all Europe so quaint and interesting. The young women and men in their costumes dancing and singing in the amphitheatre, and stopping in the streets to dance a jig, the bands of music, and the boys and girls in uniform carrying baskets of grapes, flowers and fruits, agricultural products, loads of hay with girls in costumes on them, drawn by great stalwart cows, carts and wagons drawn by splendid horses and oxen, and sheep and goats following. Their show of agricultural machinery was confined to a harrow and a machine. that I could not imagine the use it was designed for. Girls were spinning flax; there were great casks and barrels of wine, and the whole represented Swiss peasants and. grape culture.

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