Then I saw something glisten in the herbage, and it was a rattlesnake, if it were not a whisky bottle.
The gigantic lumps of tawny earth, with castellated crags of stone, ghostly ruins one would say of cities that perished thousands of years before the bricks were made for Babylon.

Profound beds for vanished torrents yawned into a scrap of green valley, and the glitter of a thread of water.

A town blossomed from a coal mine, and there was an array of driven wells with force pumps to quench the thirst of seething and raging locomotives.

A turn in the line and a beautiful cloud formation like billows of white roses, massive, delicately outlined fantastic spires like marble mountains, carved--ah! the cloud comes out clear as if it were a wall of pearl, and there are the everlasting mighty hills with their brows of exquisite snow! These are lofty reservoirs from which the long days glowing with sunshine send down streams of water at whose touch the deserts bloom.

The eye is refreshed as we make a closer acquaintance of the mountains.