She had one of those faces, in which no feature was above criticism, but upon which so many happy thoughts and kindly emotions were continually expressing themselves, that criticism was as soon forgotten as made, and once forgotten was never recalled. I was seized, as we walked together, with a great desire to show her novel or beautiful scenes, and to tell her what I knew. I never enjoyed anything so much as the varying expressions of her face, always intelligent, always pure, always gentle, and withal full of strong character. It was evident that she had read much, seen many places and had a clear understanding. But it was also apparent that she was in search of the pure, the beautiful, the good, and she was altogether like what she sought. One most remarkable fact about her was that although a Bostonian she did not insist that Boston should be the sole subject of conversation. After an hour’s journey from the city, moving rapidly along the levels, swiftly down the inclines and slowly up the steep road which ascended to the divide, we reached the place which I have always considered the best from which to view Co-opolis. Here our party halted for a time, remaining in our carriages and discussing the many objects of interest. The mountains, black and threatening, looked down upon us as if with sullen displeasure, and beyond the wild wastes of treeless and houseless valleys, far to the south, rose the weird forms of the Seven Devils, presiding over a kind of a golden Hades. But it was not the mountains nor the wilderness which attracted us mostly. Before us lay the garden of brotherly love, in whose bosom nestled the fair city of Co-opolis. That city was indeed a picture of peace and loveliness, with all its great public buildings, its wide streets, its artificial lakes and magnificent urban parks. I pointed out the buildings and parks to my lady companion and took much pleasure in giving her brief historical sketches of several of them. But even Co-opolis, with all its artificial beauty, was not the greatest object of interest. The valley itself, subjected to the most thorough cultivation to which the most approved methods could reduce it, lay before us “as fair as the garden of the gods upon the slopes of Eden.” Directing our attention to the north we saw the silvery expanse of Canyon Lake glistening in the sun. Along both the northern and southern slopes of the valley extended the finely constructed ditches and flumes conducting the waters of the lake to many different reservoirs, where they were stored and distributed when occasion demanded.