Excerpt from The Land of the Pueblos

Old travelers tell you the country is like Pales. Tine, but it is like nothing outside of the Gar den eastward in Eden. New Mexico is a slice of old Mexico, that is, a western section of Spain. Who knows but you may catch sight of some of your castles there Such was the invitation which came to me across the Rocky Mountains. I hearkened to the voice of the charmer, charm ing never so wisely, and, ¿eeing from incessant life, started on a journey of two thousand miles. It was in the mild September, and the Mississipi Valley ¿amed with banners crimson, golden, in which Autumn shrouded the faded face of the dead Summer.

We sped through Ohio, land of lovely women, past Peoria, fair Prairie City, the smoke of whose twenty-three distilleries obscures the spires of her churches beautiful as uplifted hands at prayer, through the bridge at St. Louis, where the fairies and giants once worked together, making a cross ing over the great Father of Waters, on we went, journeying by night and by day.

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