*34 



THE MUSEUM. 



Entrance to the Garden of the Gods. 



are far beyond expectations, but they 

 are not to be had for nothing. 



The attractions in this region are 

 many. It would tire the patience of 

 both the readers and pubhsher to re- 

 cite them all. We :nay take first, 

 however, the "Garden of the Gods," 

 as it is perhaps the most famous. 



The story is told that the origin of 

 the name was after this wise: The 

 renowned poet and philanthropist, 

 Helen Hunt Jackson, whose home was 

 in Colorado Springs, Colo. , a short 

 distance from which is the famous 

 garden, was one day riding amongst 

 the huge pillars of sandstone, admiring 

 their beauty and wondrous variety of 

 fantastic form, when she met an old 

 negro, whom she accosted: 



"Good morning! What is your 

 name.' " 



" Jupiter. " 



" Have you a wife ?" 



" Yes'm." 



" What is her name .'" 



" Juno, ma'am." 



" Oh! So this is the Garden of the- 

 Gods, is it .'" 



And that name it has retained to 

 this da}'. 



The tired weary traveler who is 

 obliged to trudge on foot through the 

 garden is likely to view it in a different 

 manner from the sentimentalist who 

 drives leisurely from one pillar to an- 

 other, a mile or more away. The hot 

 sun strikes upon the red sand of the- 

 soil and is reflected with an intensity 

 that nnist be felt to be understood. The 

 sand and soil are ground and puh-er- 

 i/ed until the air along the road marks 

 the trend of carriages by the cloud of 

 dust. The hot sand, the stifling dust 

 when there is a crowd sight seeing, 

 the heated atmosphere, and lastly the 

 filthy saloon in the corner of the 

 grounds, — the only house where weary 

 mortals may rest and procure a drink 



