Ocean to Ocean on Horseback: Being the Story of a Tour in the Saddle from the Atlantic to the Pacific; with Especial Reference to the Early History and Development of Cities and Towns Along the Route; and Regions Traversed Beyond the Mississippi ...

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Hubbard publishing Company, 1896 - Rochester (N.Y.) - 523 pages
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Page 99 - Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter and then cease; And like a bell, with solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say, " Peace! " Peace! and no longer from its brazen portals The blast of War's great organ shakes the skies! But beautiful as songs of the immortals, The holy melodies of love arise.
Page 250 - An officer fit for duty who at this crisis would abandon his post to electioneer for a seat in Congress ought to be scalped.
Page 520 - The whole country, from San Francisco to Los Angeles and from the seashore to the base of the Sierra Nevada, resounds with the sordid cry of 'gold! GOLD!! GOLD!!!' while the field is left half planted, the house half built, and everything neglected but the manufacture of shovels and pickaxes...
Page 520 - GOL'D!!! —while the field is left half planted, the house half built, and everything neglected but the manufacture of shovels and pick-axes, and the means of transportation to the spot where one man obtained one hundred and twenty-eight dollars...
Page 291 - English — these dogs dressed in red, who have come to rob you of your hunting-grounds, and drive away the game — you must lift the hatchet against them.
Page 298 - Erected by the people of Michigan, in honor of the martyrs who fell and the heroes who fought in defense of liberty and union.
Page 87 - We are living, we are dwelling, In a grand and awful time, In an age on ages telling, To be living is sublime.
Page 324 - ... to the fund for the erection of a monument to the memory of the brave men whose remains are deposited in the cemetery.
Page 411 - On one occasion a Frenchman, who had been resting in our village, brought his violin with him to the Tower, to play and dance for the amusement of my people who had assembled there, and, while dancing with his back to the cliff, accidentally fell over it and was killed. The Indians say that at the same time of the year soft strains of the violin can be heard near the spot.
Page 295 - Neither mound nor tablet marked the burial-place of Pontiac. For a mausoleum, a city has risen above the forest hero ; and the race whom he hated with such burning rancor trample with unceasing footsteps over his forgotten grave.

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