276 THE GOLD MINE 



adorned it, he would keep himself young among his 

 flowers and life would have an enjoyment he cannot 

 find on a narrow town lot. For myself I have heen a 

 hardworking man. I began life in Minnesota in 1857. 

 I was there when the state was born. I am 72 years 

 of age, but I cannot feel that I am growing old. I seem 

 standing on the borders of eternal youth. True, my 

 feet move more slowly and I cannot match the full 

 vigor of my prime, but the soul is young. I am going 

 towards the sunset, towards the ^^golden gate''; but it 

 is not a dreary or wintry way. 



Often have you watched the glowing splendors of 

 the evening, when the stately clouds like heaven's own 

 sentinels escort the retiring day to his chambers in the 

 west. What brush can portray those inspiring displays ; 

 what pen can describe the robing of the clouds. It is as 

 if the choicest gems of earth were melted together and 

 then piled up in mountain vastness. There are great 

 masses of opal, amethyst and gold, and beyond the 

 fields of sapphire the scene is glory, set on fire, and the 

 vast procession trailing its splendors seems as if escort- 

 ing a conquering soul into the eternal joy. 



ISTo, this is not old age; it is but the promise of an- 

 other morning. 



"We all do fade as a leaf." But how do the leaves 

 fade? Go into some of our mountains after the touch 

 of the frost and the whole landscape is a splendid gar- 

 den robed in indescribable loveliness. What a rich 

 blending of color. The gold of the maples, the purple 



