nows it. She is by no means the
marvel that San Francisco was at the same interesting age; but, then,
Denver doesn't know it; or, if she knows it, she doesn't care to mention
it or to hear it mentioned.

True it is that the Argonauts of the Pacific were blown in out of the
blue sea--most of them. They had had a taste of the tropics on the way;
paroquets and Panama fevers were their portion; or, after a long pull
and a strong pull around the Horn, they were comparatively fresh and
eager for the fray when they touched dry land once more. There was much
close company between decks to cheer the lonely hours; a very bracing
air and a very broad, bright land to give them welcome when the voyage
was ended--in brief, they had their advantages.

The pioneers of Denver town were the captains or mates of prairie
schooners, stranded in the midst of a sealike desert. It was a voyage of
from six to eight weeks west of the Mississippi in those days. The only
stations--and miserably primitive ones at that--lay along Ben Holliday's
overland stage route. They were far between. Indians waylaid the
voyagers; fires, famine and fatigue helped to strew the trail with the
graves of men and the carcasses of animals. Hard lines were these; but
not so hard as the lines of those who pushed farther into the
wilderness, nor stayed their adventurous feet till they were planted on
the rich soil of the Pacific slope.

Pioneer life knows little variety. The _menu_ of the Colorado banquet
July 4, 1859, will revive in the minds of many an old Californian the
fast-fading memories of the past; but I fear, twill be a long time
before such a _menu_ as the following will gladden the eyes of the
average prospector in the Klondyke:

MENU.

SOUP.
A la Bean.

FISH.
Brook Trout, a la catch 'em first.

MEATS.
Antelope larded, pioneer style.

BREAD.
Biscuit, hand-made, full weight, a la
yellow.

VEGETABLES.
Beans, mountain style, warranted boiled
forty-eight hours, a la soda.

DESSERT.
Dried Apples, Russell gulch style.
Coffee, served in tin cups, to be washed
clean for the occasion, overland
style, a la no cream.

In those days Horace Greeley, returning from his California tour, halted
to cast his eye over the now West. The miners primed an old blunderbus
with rich dust, and judiciously salted Gregory gulch. Of course Horace
was invited to inspect it. Bein