another, called “Sweet Violet,” owing
to her fine build, was sold for $3,705. As the
conversation drifted, sometimes into things serious,
and then into a lighter vein, Mr. Coffman told a story
about a man who had three fine calves. One of
them died, and, when his foreman told him, he said
he was sorry, but no doubt it was “all for the
best.” “Skin him,” said he,
“and sell his hide.” Another one
died, and he said the same thing. When the last
and the best died, his wife said to him, “Now
the Lord is punishing you for your meanness!”
His reply was, “If the Lord will take it out
in calves it is not so bad.” I could not
but moralise that the Divine judgments on us, for
our sins, are not as severe as they might be, and
that few of us get what we deserve in the way of punishment
or chastening. I also met a horse dealer, who
said that he shipped some sixty horses every week
to a commission merchant in Buffalo. The latter
made three dollars per head for selling them.
They brought about $60 a piece. When shipped
at New York, by English buyers, for France, South
Africa, and elsewhere, they cost about $190 a head.
The farmers of Ohio, Indiana, Iowa, and Wisconsin,
are getting rich from horse culture and the raising
of cattle. He said that fifteen years ago, the
farmers, in many instances, had heavy notes discounted
in the banks. Now they have no such indebtedness.
When formerly he entered a town he would go to a bank
and find out from the cashier who had notes there;
and then he would go and buy the horses of such men
at reduced rates. All is different now.
The European demand has helped the American farmer.
At Akron, Ohio, the energetic and successful Rector
of St. Paul’s Church, the Rev. James H.W.
Blake, accompanied by his wife and Miss Graham, his
parishioner, boarded the train; and I found them most
agreeable travelling companions to San Francisco.
In Chicago, in the Rock Island Station, I was met
by tourist agent Donaldson, in the employ of the Rock
Island Railway Company, and during all the journey
he was most courteous and helpful. Here also I
found my old classmate in the General Theological
Seminary, Rev. Dr. Alfred Brittin Baker, Rector of
Trinity Church, Princeton, N.J., Rev. Dr. Henry L.
Jones, of Wilkesbarre, Pa., Rev. Dr. A.S. Woodle,
of Altoona, Pa., the Rev. Henry S. Foster, of Green
Bay, Wis., and the Rev. Wm. B. Thorne, of Marinette,
Wis., all journeying to San Francisco. It was
a pleasure to see these friends, and to have their
delightful companionship.
Many interesting chapters might be written about this
journey; and to give all the incidents by the way
and descriptions of places visited and pen pictures
of persons met would detain you, dear reader, too
long, as you are hastening on to the City by the Golden
Gate. Some things, however, we may not omit as
we travel over great prairies and cross rivers and
plains and mountains and valleys. At Rock Island
our train crossed the Mississippi, reaching Davenport