296 NATHANIEL SOUTHGATE SEALER 



formal rest before term begins. I don't feel that I need it more than last 

 year. My camp life has not been very chafing, though it has been harder 

 work than usual. You will find that the laurel leaves I send will give you 

 good subjects for painting; they are as beautiful as flowers in their forms 

 and colors. ... It is not worth while to send any papers here. I have no 

 time to read them. 



The next letter is written on the way to Colorado. 



On C. & O. R. R., Aug. 23, 1879. 



I have got through one of the most uncomfortable nights of the summer. 

 No sleeping-car, and a lot of chattering idiots to cut out the sleep one might 

 have had doubled up on the seat. Still it is one eighth of my journey done. 

 . . . The 25th, Monday, is almost gone; I have been occupying it with my 

 camp accounts. I have less hair on my head, but they are about straight. I 

 don't believe I have lost this time more than fifty dollars by the wayside. . . . 



Near KANSAS CITY, Saturday, 1879. 



The third night is behind us and we are fairly out on this western sea of 

 earth. It is a dull, clay-sodden earth to which no tenderness of association can 

 well cling. It seems to me a vast, broad sow fat and piggy prairie of genera- 

 tions of bacon and savory fatness, but not the mother earth that one loves. 

 Men will have to live well if they are to sweeten it by deeds and make it lovely 

 by memories. Kansas City is forlorn-looking but prosperous, a conglomera- 

 tion of rich, poor, decent, vicious, such as I have never seen. The depot is a 

 wonderful whirl of trains and on them drifts out a strange tide of wanderers. 

 I pity the archangel who has to foresee what is to come out of this strange 

 sowing of men in this wilderness forty sorts of wheat and forty sorts of 

 tares all at once. Although there is much to see I am rather bored with it all. 

 When we see the mountains it will be a relief; but I would not swap the 

 quarter-acre at 13 Bow Street for all this empire of plains. I shall write 

 every day, but as the chance for mails is not good, you must not be anxious 

 if delay occurs. 



DENVER, COLORADO, Dec. 22, 1879. 



... I have seen the "Rockies." The view is much like that from Mon- 

 treux (you remember the first time we saw the Dent du Midi) except that 

 in place of the lake we have the valley of the Platte River. They are majestic, 

 but unlovely, a stern battle-front of mountains built up against the ancient 

 seas that wrapped these plains. . . . We have here one of the owners of 

 the mine, a fine rough fellow. I believe he is honest and that McKay will 

 take his chance. Next Monday I hope to be homeward bound. ... It is 



