(Picture of) Virginia City--in the bright new State of Nevada. (Virginia City itself is built on a ledge cut out of the side of Mount Davidson, which rises some 9000 feet above the sea level--the city being about half way up its side. To Artemus Ward the wild character of the scenery, the strange manners of the red-shirted citizens, and the odd developments of the life met with in that uncouth mountain-town were all replete with interest. We stayed there about a week. During the time of our stay he explored every part of the place, met many old friends from the Eastern States, and formed many new acquaintances, with some of whom acquaintance ripened into warm friendship. Among the latter was Mr. Samuel L. Clemens, now well known as "Mark Twain." He was then sub-editing one of the three papers published daily in Virginia--"The Territorial Enterprise." Artemus detected in the writings of Mark Twain the indications of great humorous power, and strongly advised the writer to seek a better field for his talents. Since then he has become a well-known lecturer and author. With Mark Twain, Artemus made a descent into the Gould and Curry Silver Mine at Virginia, the largest mine of the kind, I believe in the world. The account of the descent formed a long and very amusing article in the next morning's "Enterprise." To wander about the town and note its strange developments occupied Artemus incessantly. I was sitting writing letters at the hotel when he came in hurriedly, and requested me to go out with him. "Come and see some joking much better than mine," said he. He led me to where one of Wells, Fargo & Co's express wagons was being rapidly filled with silver bricks. Ingots of the precious metal, each almost as large as an ordinary brick, were being thrown from one man to another to load the wagon, just as bricks or cheeses are transferred from hand to hand by carters in England. "Good old jokes those, Hingston. Good, solid Babes in the Wood," observed Artemus. Yet that evening he lectured in "Maguire's Opera House," Virginia City, to an audience composed chiefly of miners, and the receipts were not far short of eight hundred dollars.) A wonderful little city--right in the heart of the famous Washoe silver regions--the mines of which annually produce over twenty-five millions of solid silver. This silver is melted into solid bricks--about the size of ordinary house-bricks--and carted off to San Francisco with mules. The roads often swarm with these silver wagons. One hundred and seventy-five miles to the east of this place are the Reese River Silver Mines--which are supposed to be the richest in the world. (Pointing to Panorama) The great American Desert in winter time--the desert which is so frightfully gloomy always. No trees--no houses--no people--save the miserable beings who live in wretched huts and have charge of the horses and mules of the Overland Mail Company.