St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1888-04-29

tTdIIl bud6 SpcCuS diOliS 1uOIl OdoOs uh>s
they have been so deity rounded and
into quaint and fantastic shapes,
that it requires no stretch of
thought to imagine an army OF busy
sculptors and stone carverS up there
working out their strongest designs.
The train pulled up little after dark
that day in a beautiful glen around
which stood an army of pines and hem
locks like plumed sentinels, nodding
courteously and shaking their rattling
armor in the wind. By the side
of the track stood a long,
low building, white and sur
rounded by a rickety picket fence, be-
hind which were blooming marigolds,
daffodils, pansieS and pinks. 1t was
typical New England farm house IN APP
pearance, but it proved to be an eating
station, managed by German host,Who
gave us genuine TeutOnic dinner, so
exquisitly cooked that every person On
the train went away with an overloaded
stomach. l prevaricate. There was
one person whose stomach was not over
loaded. l speak of the porter. l felt
that had
PURCHASED A CONTROLLING INTEREST
in him by this time and took the liberty
to watch him norrowly. He was the
first one to seat himself at the table and
without ceremony loaded his plate With
beans.
Boss" said he, addressing me in the
tone of brotherly familiarity he had as
sumed on receiving his third payment
at the beg .sning of the journey; "boss,
pass me dat vinegar, will yer?'
lifted the bottle from the caster and
handed it over to him. He poured the
contents generously over his beans, ana
an instant later was shoveling them
into his big mouth without stopping TO
breathe. He had closed his classic jaws
about three times, when he suddenly
ceased work, dropped his knife ana
fork, also his lower jaw, and looked at
me with a half scared and nall
suspicious look in his black face.
"What'S the matter, Jim?' said L.
dat wus olive oil you CUB me fur
vinegar" he replied as he arose and
went out into the back yard with his
mouth full of beans.
There was no guile in the porter's
voice. He had spoken the truth, but l
was innocent of any wrong inten-
ton. Multnomah they called
this station, and little way
from it is the beautiful waterfall from
which it takes its name. Leaping over
the edge of the towering granite bluff,
narrow stream falls nearly 800 feet to
the rocks below, a shimmering sheen,
as soft and white and feecy as
the veil of a bride. At the foot
of this fall the train stops fifteen
minutes to allow amateur artists
the pleasure of mutilating the beauties
of nature, and exhibiting the unrecog-
niZable mass to unsympathetic friends.
AS the train steamed along in the dark
shadows of the heavily wooded
mountains, running a winning race
with the fOaming waters OF the
Columbia that tumbled merrily
over its rocky bed, forming hundreds OF
pretty cascades. l was told by a coarse
addressed fellow-passenger to look
see Mt. Hood. Through sheer force OF
habit offered him a quarter. He re-
fused the money, and | understood the
reason when | afterwards learned that
he was one of the wealthiest mine own
ers in Montana. His clothes had
MADE A FOOL OF ME.
However, pocketed my coin and set
watch for Mt. Hood. A new moon, that
looked as though it had never been used
before, hung over us away down the
valley and we were driving straight at
it. In it's pale light the river shone
like phOSpherescent serpent, the
tall trees looked like giant
specters and the mountains loomed
up higher, broader and blacker
than before. In attempting to describe
the awful grandeur of these mountains,
their shadows and the sublime beauty
of the winding river and shining sky, as
magnified and beautified by the efful-
gence of this virgin moon, L am sure
that but make a grand exhibition OF
my imbecility. What then shall | say of
the stately Mt. Hood that suddenly
came upon my view as grand
central figure in this panorama, hun
dreds of miles away, yet seeming ready
to fall upon my insignificant head if it
found aught but admiration in my
eyes. A great.shining, white giant lift
ing its SnOw-covered head 10000 feet
in the air, almost touching the silver
crescent of the moon that hung over it,
illumining it's glittering sides with its
brightest rays. One square look at
Mount Hood and the sensitive man feels
that humming bird could easily beat
him to death with it's wings. He cam
not help fully realizing and appre-
ciating his own condemn littleneSS. Fiji
teen minutes later we were in the
heart of a dense fog, but with
firm, determined snow pillow ahead of us
we experienced no serious difficulty,
and it was less than a half hour when
the porter, looking pale and haggard,
with particular stress Oh the haggard,
swept me off with small broom, col
lected my very last quarter, picked up
my baggage, led me through the car
door and left me standing, with hunk
of drab fog as my only visible means of
support, on the platform of railway
station in the city of Portland.
Tom HOLMES.