On a pleasant September morning the steam ferry-boat conveyed us from Portland across the Willamette River to the depot of the Oregon and California Railroad, and soon afterward we were rushing southward in the train along the right shore of that stream—­here as broad as the Rhine—­the rival of the mighty Columbia.  After a pleasant and interesting journey through giant forests and over fertile prairies, some large, some small, embellished here and there with farms, villages and orchards, we reached Oregon City, which lies in a romantic region close to the Willamette:  then leaving the river, we thundered on some miles farther through the majestic primitive forest, and soon entered upon a broad, wood-skirted prairie, over which here and there pretty farm-houses and groves are scattered; and presently beheld, peeping out from swelling hills and standing in the middle of a prosperous settlement embowered in verdure, the slender white church-tower of Aurora, and were at the end of our journey.

Our first course after we left the cars was to the tavern, standing close to the railroad on a little hill, whither the passengers hurried for lunch.  This so-called “hotel,” the best known and most famous, as has already been said, in all Oregon, I might compare to an old-fashioned inn.  The long table with its spotless table-cloth was lavishly spread with genuine German dishes, excellently cooked, and we were waited on by comely and neatly-dressed German girls; and though the dinner would not perhaps compare with the same meal at the club-house of the “San Francisco” I must confess that it was incomparably the best I ever tasted in Oregon, in which region neither the cooks nor the bills of fare are usually of the highest order.

Dinner being over, we made inquiry for Doctor Keil, to whom we were now ready to pay our respects.  Our host pointed out to us the doctor’s dwelling-house, which looked, in the distance, like the premises of a well-to-do Low-Dutch farmer; and after passing over a long stretch of plank-road, we turned in the direction of the royal residence.  On the way we met several laborers just coming from the field, who looked as if life went well with them—­girls in short frocks with rake in hand, and boys comfortably smoking their clay pipes—­and received from all an honest German greeting.  Everything here had a German aspect—­the houses pleasantly shaded by foliage, the barns, stables and well-cultivated fields, the flower and kitchen-gardens, the white church-steeple rising from a green hill:  nothing but the fences which enclose the fields reminded us that we were in America.

The doctor’s residence was surrounded by a high white picket-fence:  stately, widespreading live-oaks shaded it, and the spacious courtyard had a neat and carefully-kept aspect.  Crowing cocks, and hens each with her brood, were scratching and picking about, the geese cackled, and several well-trained dogs gave us a noisy welcome.  Upon our asking for the doctor, a friendly German matron directed us to the orchard, whither we immediately turned our steps.  A really magnificent sight met our eyes—­thousands of trees, whose branches, covered with the finest fruit, were so loaded that it had been necessary to place props under many of them, lest they should break beneath the weight of their luscious burden.