TRAVELING NOTES.

As Adam was the first to lead in the line of humanity, so it seems proper for Adams to lead, at least alphabetically, in the line of Ohio counties; yet it was about the last visited by me on this tour.

A few days before Christmas I was in Kenton. Two or three points on the Ohio were to be visited and then my travels would be over. Would I live to finish? Ah! that was a pressing question. As the end drew near I confess I was a little anxious. Some had predicted I would never get through. Too old." It is pleasant to be

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is being petted by the hotel clerk; it is good to see everywhere young life asserting its power, pulling on the heart strings; in its weakness lies its strength. Within it is warm, without, intensely cold: the landscape snow clad. Day is breaking beautifully and the moon and stars in silence look down upon our world in its white shroud. I go out upon the porch and enjoy the calm loveliness of the morning coming on in silence and purity.

All of life does not consist in the getting of money; with my eyes I possess the stars, while the cold, pure air seems as a perfect elixir. Still there must always be some

encouraged; a higher pleasure often comes from opposition; it enhances victory.

Old age! that is a folly. Live young, and you will die young. Learn to laugh Time out of his arithmetic; amuse him with some new game of marbles. Then on some fine summer's day you will be taking a quiet nap, and when you awake maybe find yourself clothed in the pure white garments of eternal youth.

Tuesday Morn, Dec. 21.-It is now six o'clock. Am in the office of the St. Nicholas Hotel at Kenton. A dozen commercial travelers sit around, mutually strangers. They sit sleepy in chairs, having just come off a train: its locomotive hard by is hissing steam in the cold morning air. A hunting dog lies by the stove and the landlord's fiveyear-old daughter, wearing a checked apron,

thing to mar the acme of enjoyment and this is mine, the wish that cannot be gratified, that I for the time being was transformed into some huge giant, so as to offer a greater lung capacity for the penetration of the exhilarating air and a greater body surface for it to envelop and hold me in its invigorating embrace; a desire also for greater penetration of vision, to take in the stars beyond the stars I see. Thus must it ever be-on, on and on, life beyond life, eternity, God! Canst thou by searching find To find him, to learn him fully, requires all knowledge; with all knowledge must come all power. This can never be, so the mystery of the ages must continue the mystery of the eternities; still on, on, stars beyond stars!

out God?

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It is at night when in solitude, far from

home and friends, that as one looks up to the starry dome the soul responds most fully to the sublimity of creation. Then the stars seem as brothers speaking, and say, We too, O human soul, are filled with the all filling sublimity and the eternal vastness. We each see stars beyond stars; there is no limit. We know not whence we came, but we do know that we are created by the Eternal Incomprehensible Spirit and cast into illimitable space so that each of us rolls on in an appointed orbit. We alike with thee feel His presence and worship HIM who seems to say, 'Do your work, shine on, shine on, let your light illumine the hearts of men that they may be lifted in one eternal song of gladness.'

It was years ago when, far from home and friends and alone with night and solitude I endeavored in verse to describe the scene around me, and to express the thoughts that filled me with the all pervading sense of the Divine.

Wednesday Morn, Dec. 22.-Am in the Sheridan Hotel, Ironton, where that long water ribbon called the Ohio finds for the people of the State its southernmost bend, and seems to say "Here shalt thou come and no farther: beyond thy statutes are of no avail.”

Bellefontaine.-Ironton is 220 miles from Kenton by my route: I left Kenton after breakfast, stopped two hours at Bellefontaine and one at Columbus. I entered Bellefontaine by the train from the north as I did forty years ago; but how different my entrance. Then it was late in the fall or early winter; I had sketched the grave of Simon Kenton a few miles north, when night overtook me it became intensely dark, I was on the back of old Pomp, and in some anxiety as I could see nothing except a faint glimmer from the road moistened by the rain; a sense of relief came when the straggling lights of Bellefontaine burst in view. In the morning I awoke to find this place with a beautiful name, little more than a collection of log cabins grouped around the Court House square. I was surprised yesterday to find it such a handsome little city.

Old Soldiers. There in his office in one of the fine buildings that had supplanted the crude structures of the old time, I called upon a young man of whose history I had heard in my New Haven home; for he was a youth in Yale when Sumter fell. Then he gave his books a toss into a corner and following the flag made a record. He is now the Lieut.-Governor of the State, Robert Kennedy. He is strongly made; a picture of physical health. He is of medium stature, yet every man who from love of country has breasted the bullets of her foes will stand in my eyes half a foot taller than other men. In this tour I have met many such and no matter how humble their position, I feel everywhere like taking them by the hand; for they seem as men glorified. My memory carries me back to the meeting in my youth with soldiers of the American Revolution, venerable men who had come down from a former generation, and the people everywhere honored them; they too were as men glorified.

Women of the Scioto Valley.-It was near evening when I arrived at Columbus; where I walked the streets for an hour finding them

thronged with people engaged in their Christmas shopping. On resuming my seat in the cars to continue south, I found them filled with women living down the Scioto Valley, some ten, some fifty miles away, returning to their homes with packages of happiness. Two or three of them were blondes, young ladies of tasteful attire and refined beauty. This famed valley is of wonderful tertility, equal in places probably to the delta of the Ganges where a square mile feeds a thousand. Almost armies perished here in this valley by malaria before it was fairly subdued, and could produce such exquisite fancifully attired creatures as these. Their grandmothers were obliged to dress in homespun, dose with quinine, and listen to the nightly howls of wolves around their cabins; but these graceful femininities can pore over Harper's Bazaar, indulge in ice-cream and go entranced over from the operas.

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By ten o'clock the Christmas shoppers had been distributed through the valley and I was almcst alone when my attention was attracted by a young man near me, of twenty-two, so he told me. He said he had been a farm laborer in Michigan, and was going into Virginia to begin life among strangers; going forth into the world to seek his fortune. He evidently knew nothing of that country and it seemed to me as though he was under some Utopian hallucination. His face was of singular beauty. A tall, conical Canadian black cap set it off to advantage; his complexion was dark, his teeth like pearls, features delicate and eyes radiant. Then his smile was so sweet and his expression so innocent and guileless that he quite won my heart in sympathy for his future. There was some mystery there. I could not reconcile his story of being a farm laborer with such refinement.

Wed. Dec. 22. 5 P. M.-As I sat this morning in a photograph gallery in Ironton, the photographer exclaimed "There's the Bostonia-that's her whistle." "Where is she bound?" "Down the river." In a twinkling I decided to go in her and now just at candle light I'm on the Ohio, sixty miles below Ironton. In this sudden decision to leave I fear I greatly disappointed Editor E. S. Wilson of the Register, who, having read my books in boyhood, had greeted my advent with warmth and expected to have a day with me.

The Scotch Irish.-At Ironton I had a brief interview with a patriarch now verging on his Soth year. Mr. John Campbell, long identified with the development of the iron industry of this locality. In my entire tour I had scarcely met with another of such grand patriarchial presence of great stature and singular benignancy of expression, he made me think of George Washington; this was increased when he told me he was from Virginia. He is from that strong Scotch Irish Presbyterian stock that gave to our country such men as Andrew Jackson, John C. Cal

houn, the Alexanders of Princeton, Felix Houston of Texas, Horace Greeley, the McDowells, etc. Stonewall Jackson was one of them, and his famous brigade was largely composed of Scotch Irish, whose ancestors drifted down from Pennsylvania about 150 years ago and settled in the beautiful Shenandoah Valley about Augusta and Staunton. They were never to any extent, more than they could well help, a slaveholding people; indeed they have been noted for their love of civil and religious liberty. While in the American Revolution the Episcopalians of eastern Virginia largely deserted their homes, as numerous ruins of Episcopal churches there to-day attest, and followed King George, these "hard-headed blue Presbyterians," as one of their own writers called them, from the loins of the old Scotch Covenanters, were a strong reliance of Washington;

On the Ohio.-How cheap traveling is by river. I go, say 100 miles by water, and pay $2.00 and they feed me as well as move me; a general custom on the Ohio and Mississippi river boats. This is a large comfortable boat, and I'm given ice-cream for both dinner and supper, and for drink any amount of Ohio river water, now filled with broken ice, a remarkably soft, palatable beverage.

Persons inexperienced in traveling on the western rivers often see the expression, "wharf boat" and it puzzles them. Owing to the continual changes in the level of western rivers, in seasons of extreme flood rising fifty and more feet, permanent wharves for the receipt of freight and passengers are impossible. So flat bottomed scows floored and roofed, called wharf boats are used. The steamboats are moored alongside and the passengers go on the wharf boat on a plank, cross it and then on other planks reach land. The river passes between the steamboat and wharf-boat with frightful velocity. The instance is hardly known of a passenger falling between the two, no matter how good a swimmer he was, escaping death; he is drawn under the wharf boat; many have thus been drowned. At night light is shed over the scene by a huge lump of burning coal taken from the furnace and suspended from a wire basket: if this does not give sufficient light a handful of powdered resin is thrown on it.

The scene at a landing on a dark night is picturesque. The passengers crowding ashore, the confusing yells of the porters on the wharf-boats, the hustling to and fro of the deck hands, while the dancing flames from the burning coal blowing in the wind throws a lurid, changing light over the spot, rendering the enveloping darkness beyond still more awe inspiring. This with the thought that a fall overboard is death makes an unpleasant impression. Hence as it is excessively dark and I cannot see well after night I dread the landing; for a single foot slip may be fatal.

When the Ohio some forty years ago was the main artery for traffic and passengers,

these river towns were greatly prosperous; the river was the continuous subject of conversation. When neighbor met neighbor the question would be How's the river?" Good stage of water, eh?" Even their very slang came from it. In expressing contempt for another they would say, "Oh he's a nobody-nothing but a little stern wheel affair; don't draw over six inches."

The Old Time Traveling upon the great rivers of the West, the Ohio and Mississippi, was unlike anything of our day. All classes were brought in close social contact often for days and sometimes for weeks together, and it was an excellent school in which to observe character. It was as a pilot on the Mississippi that Mark Twain took some early lessons in the gospel of humor which he has since been preaching with such telling effect. And I think the people like it for I have ever observed that when a good text is selected from that gospel, and a good preacher talks from it, saints and sinners arm in arm, alike rush in great waves, fill the pews, overflow the aisles, bubble up and foam through the galleries, and none drop asleep no matter how lengthy the discourse. So Love and Humor with their companions, Good Will and Cheerfulness, serene and white robed, take us gently by the hand and lead us over the rough places to the ever smiling valleys and to the eternal fountains.

On the steamboats up the river, on their way to Washington and Congress, went the great political lights of the South and WestHenry Clay, Andrew Jackson, Tom Benton, Gen. Harrison, Tom Corwin, Yell of Arkansas, Poindexter of Mississippi, and Col. Crockett of Tennessee, the hero of the Alamo, whose great legacy was a single sentence Be sure you are right and then go ahead." Arrived at Wheeling the passengers were packed in stage coaches for a ride of two or three days more on the National road over the mountains: packed a dozen inside, eight facing each other and knees more or less interlocking. At that period the country east was cobwebbed with stage roads. The traveling public, men, women and children, were crammed into stages and sent tentering in all directions up and down the hillsides and through the valleys, the stages stopping every ten miles at wayside taverns to change horses, when the passengers often largely patronized the bar. Now and then an upset from a hilarious driver made a sad business of it. The fares in the northern States were usually six cents, and in the southern States ten cents a mile.

Steamboat Racing.-In that day on the steamers scenes of dissipation were common. Every boat had its bar, liquors were cheap and gambling was largely carried on, knots gathering around little tables and money sometimes openly and unblushingly displayed, as I saw when I first knew the river, now nearly half a century ago. Steamboat racing was at one time largely indulged in

and strange as it may appear, when a race was closely contested, the passengers would often become so excited as to overcome their beginning timidity and urge the captain to put on more steam; then even the women would sometimes scream and clap their hands as they passed a rival boat. An explosion was a quick elevating process. The racing "brag boat," "Moselle," which exploded at Cincinnati, April 26, 1838, hurled over two hundred passengers into eternity. For a few moments the air was filled with human bodies and broken timber to fall in a shower into the river and on the shore near by.

The captain of one of those large passenger boats was a personage of importance, the lord of a traveling domain. ` His will was law. And when he carried some notable characters such as Henry Clay or Andrew Jackson, his pride in his position one can well imagine. Thorough men of the world, some of them were gentlemen in the best sense, whose great ambition was to well serve the floating populations under their

care.

Experience of an Old Time River Man.— A fine specimen of the old time river men is Capt. John F. Devenny whom I met at Steubenville on this tour. He has known the river from early in this century. In conversation he gave me some of his experi

ences.

He was born in 1810 in Westmoreland Co., Pa., near the mouth of the Youghiogheny, pronounced there by the people for short," Yough." In 1815 his father removed with his family to Steubenville which since has been the captain's residence. Steubenville was the first considerable manufacturing point in south-eastern Ohio, and his father put up there the machinery for a large woolen factory, a paper mill, and a grist mill. In 1829, at the age of 19, Mr. Devenny was an engineer on a river boat; in 1835, commanded a boat which ran from Pittsburg to St. Louis and New Orleans. In the war he was captain of a transport engaged in the Vicksburg campaign. "In the early days of boating," said he, drinking and gambling were almost universal. I found in my first experiences I was being drawn into the vortex; the fondness for drink and the passion for gaming were getting a hold upon me. I stopped short off and was saved. A large part of the young men who went on the river died drunkards. Of those who went with me on the first boat, the 'Ruhamah,' I am the sole survivor. On my own boat I never allowed gambling. I have outlived two generations of river men who have perished mainly from intemperance. I ascribe my long life to my refraining from such habits and the longevity of my family." His father lived to the age of 96, and the captain himself, a large, fine-looking gentleman, seems at seventy-six as one in his prime.

An Amusing Incident occurred when he

was in command of the North Carolina" running from Pittsburg to New Orleans. He started out from a port with another boat which had wooden chimneys. She had lost

her chimneys by their striking against some trees, and being in haste had constructed these for temporary use; boxes of plank they were, fastened together. "I laughed at the sight of them," said Devenny, "when the captain replied I would find it no laughing matter: he should beat me into New Orleans. We moved along in company when after a few hours we discovered his chimneys were on fire. There was great excitement on his boat. He called up his crew and we saw them tumble them overboard. We were greatly amused at the sight, laughing heartily. I thought it was all up with them. But they had an extra set, had them up in a twinkling and got into New Orleans first.

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Preventing Explosions.- Captain venny has long held the position of government inspector of steamboats. He ascribes explosions as generally if not always occurring from the water getting low in a boiler, and then when fresh water is let in upon the bare metal thus superheated its sudden conversion into steam rends the boiler. This is now guarded against by boring holes in the parts of the boiler that would first become exposed to the heat in case of a diminution of water; which holes are plugged with block tin. At the temperature of 442° the block tin melts the holes open, and the steam escaping gives warning, whereupon the engineer opens the furnace door and the fire goes down. The plugs are externally hollow brass screws, the center tin. They are put in from the inside of the boiler into which the workman crawls for their insertion.

River Beacons.-In former times there were no beacons or lights on the western rivers. "There were places then on the Mississippi," said Devenny, "where we had to lie by all night. Sometimes we had to send a skiff across the river to build a bonfire as a guide to the channel. This was constantly changing from year to year."

In going down the Ohio my attention was arrested by the new feature introduced by the Government, of beacons erected on the banks, which greatly lessens the dangers of navigation. These are petroleum lamps commonly set upon posts and shaded by small roofs as is shown in the picture. A small steamer, the "Lily," plies on the Ohio between Cairo and Pittsburg, supplies oil, pays the keepers, puts up new lights where wanted and changes the old ones, which is often required from the changes of the channel.

The lights are placed on the channel side of the river, where the water is deep. Sometimes three or four beacons are put up on a single farm. The steamers steer from light to light.

The farmers on the river largely consign

the duty of attending to the lights to their wives and daughters who thus earn "pin money," some few dimes daily for each lamp. And the reflection is certainly interesting that along on these rivers, sweeping the margins of many states in the aggregate, are hundreds of worthy thrifty females daily ascending ladders and attending to the lamps; and among them all I venture to say no five foolish virgins could be found so long as Uncle Sam with smiling visage stands ready with his huge cans to pour out the oil.

The Ascension of Ladders must be classed as among the accomplishments of the softer sex. In Vienna and other continental cities females carry the hod, and with us that high class, the library women, are continually going up ladders while Providence seems to have a watch over the delicate fragile creatures in this peril. Alarmed at the sight of an ascension in the Mercantile Library of Cincinnati for a book she had wanted, a lady in terror tones exclaimed, "Don't go up there for me, I'm afraid you will fall." "Humph," gruffly retorted a voice at her side, that of her other half, "that is what she is put here for, to go up ladders!"

In this connection it is interesting to mention that the statistics of a public library in Manchester, England, showed that the average life of a library book was eighty readings, when the book would be useless from torn and missing leaves and general shackling condition. Where such a book was on a top shelf its procurement and return would require 160 ladder ascensions ere it could be classed as defunct literature.

Thursday Morn, Dec. 23.-Well, here I am safe in Manchester. The boat porter took a lantern and holding me by the hand I got ashore with perfect ease; a flood of light being thrown on the plank. The porter of the McDade Hotel, a colored lad, took me in charge. He also had a lantern and taking my hand we floundered through the mud up the river bank, my rubber sandals getting boot jacked off by the way.

After leaving my "grip" at the hotel which faced the river, the boy taking a lantern went with me to make a call; but the party was not at home. It is bad to get about in many of these places at night. The walks are so ugly with so many sudden step up's" and "go downs," that it is dangerous for a stranger to move about without a lantern or a pilot.

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I gave the boy a good sized coin for going with me. He could hardly believe his eyes. What" said he, "all this?" "Yes." I then sent him out for cigars. When he returned I asked, "How old are you? 'Nineteen." 'Be a good boy," I rejoined, and you will have plenty of friends." "Yes, I try to be. I don't drink, nor use tobacco, nor swear." Thinks I, "that boy is almost a saint!"

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This is one of the oldest places in the State. The tavern is evidently very old;