The city is very thrifty; and at the time we were there fifteen hundred houses were said to be in process of erection. All kinds of business is flourishing, and workmen appear to be encouraged. Law is excepted, for there are more lawyers here than would be necessary to do three times Denver’s legal business. Just south of the city is located the largest gold and silver smelter (it is said) in the world. By miners, farmers, stock-raisers, and tourists the city is supported. North and east of the city there are several hundred acres of good farming-land; and the very best crops of wheat, potatoes, oats, etc., and some splendid fruit also, are raised. Of course it is all done by irrigation; but the mountain-streams are near, and the broad, level fields are easily flooded. Our next place was Cheyenne, Wyoming, which lay about one hundred and ten miles to the north; so taking a last look we left the beautiful city behind and journeyed up the Kansas Pacific Railway. There was a well-broken road all the way, and we glided smoothly along, crossing over the Little Thompson Creek, and near by Fort Collins, and soon entered the city. It is situated upon the north bank of a branch of the South Platte, called Crow Creek, and is surrounded by barren hills. The great Union Pacific Railroad runs through the place, and the Colorado Central and Kansas Pacific roads terminate here. There is a great deal of mining-machinery manufactured here, and this, with the railroad shops, stock-raising, and the government fort near by, is what supports the town. The town is somewhat scattered, and the buildings are mostly old and very common. There are many saloons and gambling-houses; and though there are undoubtedly some _good_ citizens here, the people generally are pretty rough characters--the female portion not excepted. However, the place is not nearly so notorious as years ago, when it is said they used to have a man every morning for breakfast. We paid here four cents per pound for potatoes, three cents for corn, five cents for flour, and for other things in proportion. Our young friend William Gray here concluded that things were not like they were in old native Nebraska,--to which he was fervently attached; and not wishing to experience any more changes, see any more Indians, or get any farther from home, he concluded to go back where father’s chimney helped make the morning fog. So, mounting his pony, he bid us good-by, and loped out of sight down the railroad with a light heart, and the determination to live and die and be buried in blessed old Nebraska.