The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1870-09-01

of stock and material to the miners. and
the latter are trying to make their indebt
'edness out of the mines. When mine
gets under tribu.eit never gets out. Il
Is an acknowledgment of failure. The
great sourceof industry being checked
Of course Houghton and Hancock are
dead also, and visit to these once thrift
ty and promising places Is at best a sor.
rowfnl one. In Houghton there is one
neat residence, occupied by the Superin.
tendent of the mines, a King without q
sceptre, who devotes his time to the eff.
fsrt of making peas and Strawberries grow
out of these ungrateful hill sides. The
hotels have no runners atthe docks. The
steamboat porter dumps your baggage.
You hire q stagnant dock loafer to stand
guard over it, and go out in quest Of a
hotel. You traverse the hotel all over
and find the proprietor asleep in the up.
per story, and the servant girls gossipping
in the Office. You wake him up. He
sends small boy with wheelbarrow
down to the dock for your baggage and
goes to sleep again, aud you can take
your choice of long vista of rooms, the
only difference in which is in the number
of bedbrgs they contain. Now and then
q cart passes with its wheels chained tn
gether to prevent the horse from rolling
down the steep hill. I do not think the
horse ever comes up again. A ferry boat
runs over to Hancock in the morning,
through the copper washings. and re-
turns when some one in Hancock wants
TO come Houghton, which may be in the
or some time during the next
week. Steamers stop here, but carry
away no freight, except occasional pieces
of copper waiting to be taxed another
three cents, barrel of ale, four pounds
of cheese, and a paper bag full of crack
ers for Edgerton's, which is thriving
city of one house az the mouth of Portage
River, said house being residence for
the aforesaid Edgelton, boarding house
for some lazy half breeds, store for the
sale of crackers and ale, and light house
for Keweenaw Bay. In Hancock there is
a church were devotional Cornishmen go
to kill time, lager beer saloon, which
will never hear of "Louis and T." and a
warehouse with no freight in it, but
flock of beautiful doves summing them.
selves on the roof There is copper here
however. Copper in the earth and on it !;
copper In the river copper in mountain
Gus piles; and call in hot and coppery
sky" the sun did stand at noon as the
Free and Easy Club stood there for full
three hours waiting for some one in
Houghton to wake up and come across in
the ferryboat, so that we might return
In the meantime nothing is wanting to
relieve this stagnation but three cents
more per pound on copper.
This story is repeated at Copper Har-
Dor, which contains few wretched look
ing houses and United States fort, pro-
tectlng nothing and involving useless ex-
pense; at Bagle River, just round Ke-
weenaw Point-that arrow in the bow of
Lake SUPERIOR handful of houses squat
On the sand, with pretty natural gorge
through it, walled with conglom-
crate, two mines, the Cliff and Phoenix,
trying to squeeze out a living, the ribs of
An old propeller rotting in the waters,
and Indian wigwams scattered all along
the beach, whose inmates fish and pick
/; at Ontonagon, dying on
It's sand beach, choked with stumps, Its
-enantless houses sliding down hill into
the water, grass growing in its streets,
the wharves rotting way, and the copper
ierricks mournfully swinging and creak.
ing in the wind. This whole south shore
lnmistakably tells the story of stagnation
md death, and points the moral of pro-
;ecting copper.
July 1Sch.-Picture to yourself Wheel
ing little tug, christened the Torch Laks,
;owing scow, on which is grouped in
various picturesque attitudes, the Free
md Easy Club, afrayed in motley garb,
SCANNING down the Portage River,
through the copper-colored waters of
Portage Lake, out OF the entry ana down
The bright blue waves of Keweenaw Ba =,
headed for L'Anse, 8 thriving city of
one cottage and handful of cabins,
inhabited by half breeds, on either shore
lark green belts of timber springing up
rom the old Red Sandstone which so de-
lighted the heart Of Hugh Miller. Four or
i've hours sail brought US to the place,
md we were soon ensconced in Jackson's
cottage, our home for three days. I'll
vas bright little spot-that cottage.
There were the old rag carpets in the
Interior and floors neat as wax. There
we're ferns and MOSES, and creeping
lowers from the WOODS hard by. There
we're some quaint old books and pictures,
md the good old fashioned sampler onI
he wall. There were mine host fat, jolly
md potential among the Indians, an
who had somehow or other
lrifted away from the sound of Cow
Bells and dropped into this quiet haven
n the wilderness to spend his old age i
md his pleasant faced wife, who could
axe trout, half an hour ago leaping and
lashing among the cascades of the brook,
nd place him before you in a state oil
ried-idity which would make you forget
III the sorrows of this world. Out of
loors all manner of graceful vines, loaded