Life In Leadville

The old country roail leading from the Aakansas to Oio and the placer mines on California Gulch ,after climbing the hill that forms the lirst branch of the river bottom on the east, led up a gentle slope covered with a growth cxf mountain pines. This road Became the Chestnut-st. of Leadville, when the city was built, and has been until now the centre of its trade. Approaching the town by stage road, one of the iirst indications which the stranger has that he is in the vacinity of a city is the rade cemetery which he passes at the lower end of Cbestnut-st, lt is a gloomy, cheerless place, espeeially when seen in the late twiüglit, and is suggestive of many a tragedy ia real life. Of the several hundreds who have been buried here, scores died aniong strangers, leaving nothing by which their friends in the East inight be found or informed of their fate. The little mounds arranged in vows beneath the few trees that have been lef t standing are bare of grass, and some of them are covered with the dry brown needies that feil from the pines in early Spring. Plain board slabs for headstones and teil the brief story that will be foigotten when they erumble and disappear. A little further up the street begin the straggling log and frame houses, the latter generally nothing more than one-story shanties ten or twelve feet square. A large portion of these are saloons and lodging-houses for the accommodation of teamsters, whose white-covered wagons are drawn up in small corráis on either side of the road. ïTothing which onc iinds in Leadville is more charicteristic of the place than the camps of the wagoners that may be seen at all times in the soutliern and western suburbs of the city. The time required to transport i wagon-load of freight from the end of the railroad in the South Park or at Colorado Springs or Canon City to this place is from three to ten days, and it requires no small number of teams to move the freight required by a town of 10,000 or 12,000 people. In a few months, when the Arkansas Valley Railroad is completed to Leadville, these camps and that peculiar phrase of life of which they are a part will disappear forever, unless Leadville becomes the fltting-out point for other regions still more remóte. From the last of the freight camps it is orily a square or two into the busiest part of Chestnut street, the Bowery of Leadville. It is evening and the plank sidewalks are so thronged with men that some are crowded off into the street. The stores of all kinds seem full, and trade is brisJf. The doors of the gambling-hells sftand wide upen, strains of music are heard to issue from them, and streams of rough-looking men oomstantly pass in and out. A variety theatre occupies a prominent place on the street, and a long line of men extends from the ticket-office far down the sidewalk. The stranger's first sensation on arriving in Leadville is one of surprise at the existence of such a city in such a place. With the memory of the long, dimcult road over the range by which he has come still f resh in hls mind, it seems almost impossible that every evidence of eivilization which he sees about him and the thousands of people who throng the streets can have been brought here by that or a longer if not more diincult route in a single year. The camp proper is the most interesting and picturesque portion of Leadville. As thousands of f ortune-hunters rushed in here last Winter and Spring they cut down the trees and built their log-ciibins and board shar.ties tinor.g the stumps, laying out no streets and taking no pains to arrange their buildings with any degree of regularity. The roads, therefore, that have since been used wind about in a most bewildering way to avoid the cabins and the stumps, and make it as easy for a stranger to lose himself as in some of the older parts of Boston. The camp lias a life of its own almost independent of the city. It has its "hotels" and drinking-saloons, its gambling-shops and disreputable houses and here and there a store with a small stock of goods. Men live here actually as they do in a camp. Women are almost unknown, and the minera do their own cooking over a flre built on the ground bef ore the door. Every kind of meat is f lied, and the f are is necessarily coarse and without much variety. I have not been into any of the cabins, but can imagine that they are cheerless and anything but homelike. lt is impossible to say very much in , favor of the climate ofjLeadvilï ■. An elevation of 5,000 or 6,000 feet seems to have a bracing invigorating effect upon people who have lived near the sea ievel, but at 10,000 feet most people find the air too rare to live in with comfort. Those who are unacclimated suffer from headache, bleeding at the nose, wakef ulness, shortness of breath and exhaustion after very little exer;ion. Consumptives and those suffering from bronchial or heart disease are sure to have their symptoms aggravated even by a short reaidence here, and a longer stay will often prove fatal. Severe colds are frequent, and rheumatism of a very painful character is sure to follow unusual exposure. If a man's lungs are sound, the action o f lis heart healthy.and he lives a temperate.caref ui life.the unpleasant effects of ;he climate and elevation may, after a short time, disappear, and he may remain in Leadville without prejudice ;o his heatlh. Persons coming here 'rom the Eastshould bring their leavy Winter clothing and flannel underwear, and should putihe.m_oi bef ore Crossing the range. I arrived here on Monday night of last week. The day had been warm, and those of our party who had been exposed on the tops of the stagecoaches were badly sun-burned. Uefore our arrival at 9 o'clock n the evening, the temperature was about down to the freezing point, md overcoats and thick blankets were not uncomfortable. On Wednesday morning the ground was white with snow, and during the next f our dajs the weather continued to grow colder, with frequent snow squalls, sometimes iccompanied with thunder. On Friday the snow was several inches deep on the hills only a few hundred feet above Leadville, and on Sunday, the day when the heat was more oppressive in New York than on any other of this year, the snow feil to the depth of about six inches here in town. It was uncomfortible any day last week tosit in a room without a lire, and on Sunday I saw cicles more than a foot in diameter it the top. and ten or iifteen feet long, ïanging from a sluice box in which water is brought across California Juich. This week the weather has een more moderate, but flres have been necessary for comfort every eveïing. Of course in such a climate as ;his there can be very little vegetation. Th e camp is entirely dependent on otlier parts of the State for its vegeta)les as well as for its hay and grain ind always will be. Novelties in parasols are now shown n every conccivable style, shape and color. They are much more fancy md sliowy this season than last, and idd, by their picturesqueness, to the n-etty face of the bearer.