There were many who left the gold fields with discouragement depicted upon their every feature. They had been entirely unable to adapt themselves to circumstances so different to any they had before known, and they had not possessed the foresight and judgment to decide affairs when the critical moments came. Perhaps a fondness for home, and dear ones, pulled too persistently upon the heartstrings; nothing here looked good to them, and they went home disgusted with the whole world. Unless a man or woman can quickly adjust himself or herself to changed conditions, and has a willingness to turn his or her hand to any honorable labor, he would better remain at home, and allow others to go to Alaska. If a man goes there with pockets already well lined, intending to operate in mining stocks, he still needs the adjustable spirit, because of the new, crude, and compulsory manners of living. He must be able to forget the luxury of silver spoons, delicate hands, soft beds, and steam heat; enjoying, or at least accommodating himself to the use of tin spoons, coarse food, no bed, and less heat, if his place and circumstances for a time demand such loss of memory. A bountiful supply of hopefulness is also necessary, in order, at times, to make the darkness and discomfort of the present endurable, and this will wonderfully cheer and create patience. Thousands of persons who were ill qualified in these and other respects had journeyed to Alaska, only to return, homesick, penniless, and completely discouraged, who never should have left their home firesides. Not so with the Swedish people. They are accustomed to a cold climate, hard work, and conditions needing patience and perseverance, without great luxuries in their homes, and being strong and hearty physically, they are well fitted, both by nature and practice, for life in the new gold fields of Alaska. There were more reasons than one for their success in the far Northwest, and a little study of cause and effect would disclose the truth, when it will be found that it was not all "luck" which made so many successful. Our last day at Nome is a confused memory of trunks, boxes, bags, barrels, dog-teams, tickets, bills, lunches, tables, dishes, and numerous other things. Tramping hurriedly through busy, dirty streets, and heavy, sandy beach, with arms loaded with small baggage (we had neither parrots nor poodles) making inquiries at stores and offices, doing innumerable errands, saying good-byes, and having good-luck wishes called after us; and then, when the sun had disappeared for the day, and night was almost upon us, we turned our backs upon our summer camp, and hastened to our winter home.