We next surveyed the Pomeroy building, which contained a large, tastefully finished hall and printing establishment, where the La Crosse Democrat was formerly published.  As I saw the perfection, order, and good taste, in all arrangements throughout, and listened to Mr. Huron’s description of the life and leading characteristics of its chief, it seemed impossible to reconcile the tone of the Democrat with the moral status of its editor.  I never saw a more complete business establishment, and the editorial sanctum looked as if it might be the abiding place of the Muses.  Mirrors, pictures, statuary, books, music, rare curiosities, and fine specimens of birds and minerals were everywhere.  Over the editor’s table was a beautiful painting of his youthful daughter, whose flaxen hair, blue eyes, and angelic face should have inspired a father to nobler, purer, utterances than he was wont, at that time, to give to the world.

But Pomeroy’s good deeds will live long after his profane words are forgotten.  Throughout the establishment cards, set up in conspicuous places, said, “Smoking here is positively forbidden.”  Drinking, too, was forbidden to all his employes.  The moment a man was discovered using intoxicating drinks, he was dismissed.  In the upper story of the building was a large, pleasant room, handsomely carpeted and furnished, where the employes, in their leisure hours, could talk, write, read, or amuse themselves in any rational way.

Mr. Pomeroy was humane and generous with his employes, honorable in his business relations, and boundless in his charities to the poor.  His charity, business honor, and public spirit were highly spoken of by those who knew him best.  That a journal does not always reflect the editor is as much the fault of society as of the man.  So long as the public will pay for gross personalities, obscenity, and slang, decent journals will be outbidden in the market.  The fact that the La Crosse Democrat found a ready sale in all parts of the country showed that Mr. Pomeroy fairly reflected the popular taste.  While multitudes turned up the whites of their eyes and denounced him in public, they bought his paper and read it in private.

I left La Crosse in a steamer, just as the rising sun lighted the hilltops and gilded the Mississippi.  It was a lovely morning, and, in company with a young girl of sixteen, who had traveled alone from some remote part of Canada, bound for a northern village in Wisconsin, I promenaded the deck most of the way to Winona, a pleased listener to the incidents of my young companion’s experiences.  She said that, when crossing Lake Huron, she was the only woman on board, but the men were so kind and civil that she soon forgot she was alone.  I found many girls, traveling long distances, who had never been five miles from home before, with a self-reliance that was remarkable.  They all spoke in the most flattering manner of the civility of our American men in looking after their baggage and advising them as to the best routes.