X. 



IN A COLOKADO NOOK. 



The loveliest nook I know is one of nature's 

 wild gardens, on the banks of the " Shining 

 Water," at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. It 

 is forever fresh and green in my memoiy. Let 

 nie picture it for you, dear reader, as I saw it 

 last. 



It is June, and we are sitting under a low tree 

 buried up to our shoulders in a luxuriant growth 

 of weeds. Before us towers beautiful Cheyenne, 

 its wonderful red rocks gorgeous in the morn- 

 ing sun ; above us stretches the violet-blue sky, 

 while all about us, filling our lungs, and bracing 

 and invigorating our whole being, is the glorious 

 mountain air of Colorado. Outside our shady 

 nook the sunshine glows and burns, but we are 

 cool and comfortable. 



The little field between our seat and the 

 mountain is all given up to weeds, with here and 

 there a small oak-tree, and shut in by a hedge 

 of oak saplings and low willows. I say weeds, 

 but think not of an eastern weed-grown spot ; 

 imagine neither pigweed, smartweed, burdock, 



