The symbols of a mighty will
No tyrant hand may use for ill.
DANIEL S. RICHARDSON,
in Trail Dust.
FEBRUARY 22.
The splendors of a Sierra sunset cannot be accurately delineated by pencil or brush. The combined pigments of a Hill and a Moran and a Bierstadt cannot adequately reproduce so gorgeous a canvas. The lingering sun floods all the west with flame; it touches with scarlet tint the serrated outlines of the distant summits and hangs with golden fringe each silvery cloud. Then the colors soften and turn into amber and lilac and maroon. These soon assimilate and dissolve and leave an ashes of rose haze on all far-away objects, when receding twilight spreads its veil and shuts from view all but the mountain outlines, the giant taxodiums and the fantastic fissures of the canyons beneath.
BEN C. TRUMAN,
in Occidental Sketches.
FEBRUARY 23.
GOLDEN GATE PARK IN MIDWINTER.