BY LEWIS B. FRANCE, Author of "Rod and Line," "Mountain Trails and Parks in Colorado," etc. STATE JOURNAL PRINTING COMPANY, Printers and Stereotypers , MADISON, WIS. Copyrighted, 1890 , BY L. B. FRANCE....

The only other occupants of the car were two young ladies, neither of them over twenty years of age, I dare be sworn, and behind whom the porter assigned me a seat. They sat facing each other. One of these young ladies was a blonde with fluffy hair daintily banged, her cheeks were rosy and she reveled in the faintest intimation of brevity of nose—just enough of heavenward proclivity to make it cunning. Her companion was a brunette in glasses, possessing a delicate creamy complexion and a close-f

A WARMER TRAIL. A scientific knowledge of botany is by no means essential to happiness. Latin does not add an atom of beauty to the wild clematis. One can admire a healthy, bright-eyed baby without knowing its name. This morning after I start out on the railroad I notice that the July flowers are abundant on the slopes leading up to the foot-hills. Great patches of wild poppies grow here and there—it is not an infatuating plant, but one loses sight of the coarse leaves in the delicate white of t

TWIN LAKES. When the Deacon put in his appearance the next day according to appointment, he desired to know, first, whether I had gone up the cañon. I told him I had, then he wanted to know what I had seen to be pleased with. I advised him that when I had a week's leisure, and he felt inclined to listen, I would "dilate fully" my afternoon's experience; that a week devoted to the relation of each half day's enjoyment would be none too much; whereat he seemed tickled, for the cañon is a weakness

THROUGH THE SAGUACHE RANGE. Much of the way from Granite to Leadville lies close to the Arkansas, and with the level of it, the river being but a few feet below the road. The Major and I conclude to occupy the rear platform and encounter an elderly lady on a camp-stool in possession of the car door. She is here evidently with a view to the scenery. As we squeeze past, we are regaled with an odor of rose leaves, suggestive of old-fashioned bureaus with obstinate drawers, catnip tea and grandmothe

JOSHUA. While awaiting the departure of the train from Aspen Junction to Glenwood Springs, one of the dwellers in the neighborhood came up with a string of beautiful trout, the largest of which weighed two pounds. Where did he catch them? "Why, right over yonder in the Roaring Fork; lots of 'em; a fellow got one the other day that weighed three pounds." The manner of the informant defied contradiction or doubt. "Not improbable, my friend. I have landed more than one five-pounder from that same w

ON WHITE RIVER. Two miles, about, below our camp is that part of the valley where the Ute Indian Agency was situated a few years ago. Here it was that the pot-bellied potentate Colorow and his horde of tatterdemalions cruelly murdered agent Meeker, captured and carried away women and children, and committed other unprovoked atrocities—receiving, as an inducement for further outrages, additional government subsidies and comfort. The soil which these "red brothers" refused to cultivate now glitter

ON THE SOUTH FORK. The particulars of the disaster to Mr. Dide and what led up to it were brief: "I hooked a vewy big twout—he would have weighed ten pounds——" "No, no, Mr. Dide——" interrupted the Major. "Pon honah!" "The speed with which you have become proficient as a fisherman is something marvellous, Mr. Dide. Ten-pounders in this water are not within the memory of the oldest inhabitant." "Weally, he was twice as big as the one we hooked this mawning——" "Then he must have weighed not quite t

SPORT. Within two miles of us was a ranch, where we knew there were several men. While discussing breakfast, I prefaced my request to the Major by intimating these facts, and hinting that a taste of venison would serve as a change from trout and grouse. The Major looked at me and then at Joshua, who was busy over the fire, but attentive. "Those men will help us dispose of a deer, if you get one." "Very likely, if they haven't got a supply on hand." "Suppose you inquire." "Well, I'll think of it,

SUCCESS AND—SUCCESS. Breaking camp, we went down the river as far as Still Water. I left our old quarters with a feeling of regret, thinking that when I came again I should find them occupied; it was like giving up to strangers a home where life has been sweet. No one may question the stranger's right nor his good taste, but it is not a pleasant reflection that in due course one will be crowded out or will drop from his place, and the world will move round at the same old rate, as if one had nev

VAPOR. At the next evening's camp-fire I took down the Deacon's report of his trip: "The trail from Glenwood Springs to Trapper's Lake is good, and the country through which it runs is always attractive, beautiful, and in places grand. In fact, it is a difficult matter, you know, to go astray of magnificent scenery in these beloved mountains of ours. We made one camp, the ladies being out for pleasure and not in a hurry, and for one day's ride the trip is a little tiresome, especially if you are

PIKE'S PEAK. The name has a familiar sound; I have heard it almost every day for nearly three decades, and wherever English is spoken the name has been mentioned. Having it in sight daily, with its long slope reaching up to the apex over fourteen thousand feet high, its north face always clothed in or fretted with snow, it might seem that it would grow monotonous. Monotony is not possible with the magnificent eminence and, like the presence of one we love, it is always welcome. The great ice-fie