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Programming Firefox
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 Programming Firefox

Kenneth C. Feldt

Beijing • Cambridge • Farnham • Köln • Paris • Sebastopol • Taipei • Tokyo

Programming Firefox
by Kenneth C. Feldt

Copyright © 2007 O’Reilly Media, Inc. All rights reserved.

Printed in the United States of America.

Published by O’Reilly Media, Inc., 1005 Gravenstein Highway North, Sebastopol, CA 95472.

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Printing History:
April 2007: First Edition.

Nutshell Handbook, the Nutshell Handbook logo, and the O’Reilly logo are registered trademarks of
O’Reilly Media, Inc. Programming Firefox, the image of a red fox, and related trade dress are trademarks
of O’Reilly Media, Inc.

Many of the designations used by manufacturers and sellers to distinguish their products are claimed as
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While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the publisher and author assume
no responsibility for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of the information
contained herein.

This book uses RepKover™, a durable and flexible lay-flat binding.

ISBN-10: 0-596-10243-7
ISBN-13: 978-0-596-10243-2
[M]
 Table of Contents

Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ix

1. Firefox and Friends . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

Mozilla to Firefox and Thunderbird 1
XML Technologies 3
At the Top of It All: The DOM 6
Mixing Document Types 7
Getting Started 7

2. XUL Basics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
File Structure 12
XUL Widgets 15
Introducing Input Controls 24
More Complex Containers 28
Managing the Display Space 35
Content Display Panels 38
Miscellaneous Widgets 39
Helper Features 40
Mozilla Style Declarations 42
Summary 44

3. Coding and Testing for the Real World . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45

Defining a Target Application 45
Adding Logic 47
Simple Authentication Script 59
When Things Don’t Work 68
Summary 73

v
 4. Configuring for Chrome and a Server . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
Chrome Overview 76
Running as a Local Installation 78
XUL-to-Server Communications 80
Serving XUL Files 100
Summary 107

5. Multiframe XUL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109

Dividing the Display Area 109
Editing Documents 113
Adding Dialog Windows 138
Summary 152

6. Trees, Templates, and Datasources . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 154

Trees 154
Modifying Datasources 188
Summary 220

7. DOM Manipulation and Input/Output . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 221

A Design Review 221
Browser Elements 222
Moving Text Between Frames 227
Exporting Note Document Content 231
Adding Interactivity to DOM Elements 239
Summary 263

8. Graphics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 264
A Sample Graphing Project 265
XHTML Review 266
SVG Overview 267
Data-to-Graphics Transformation 272
HTML Canvas 292
Summary 299

9. Extending the Interface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 301

Overlay Files 301
Adding Logic 308
XBL 312
HTTP Request Widget 321
Summary 333

vi | Table of Contents
 10. XForms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 334
Basic XForms Structure 335
An Example Transfer to the Server 336
XForms Validation Features 341
XForms Events and Actions 359
User Interaction and Dynamic Presentation 363
What to Do When Things Go Wrong 373
Summary 373

11. Installation and Deployment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 374

Deploying Standalone Applications 375
Deploying Themes and Skins 382
Adding Locales 386
Deploying Extensions 391
Deploying the Extension 395
What to Do When Things Go Wrong 400
Summary 403

12. XUL Widget Reference . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 405

Browser Package Files 405
Developer Reference 410

Glossary: XUL Widgets: Attributes, Properties, and Methods . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 463

Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 479

Table of Contents | vii

 Preface 1

A technology is only a tool.

No matter how creative its design, innovative its approach, or impressive its perfor-
mance, a technology is still defined (according to Webster) as “a manner of accom-
plishing a task.”
The successful adoption of a technology into the community of those who rely on it
to conduct business is a complicated journey—one that starts with the unyielding
work of designers who see something that others don’t. But without the efforts of
those who believe in its value and are willing to promote (evangelize), to educate,
and to adapt the tool to the needs of the community, the technology remains little
more than a subject of academic interest.
The Mozilla component framework, and its implementation in a form more com-
monly known as the Firefox browser, represents one technology that aspires to be a
useful tool for the community that relies on the Internet to communicate, learn, and
express (we often coldly refer to these people as “users”).
The evangelists of the Mozilla framework promote its technology as a premier contri-
bution of the open source community, a team of developers whose mission is to
develop the best possible software for browsing the Internet (Firefox) and exchang-
ing messages (Thunderbird). This community is also strongly committed to demon-
strating how applying the most current standards in electronic document rendition
and data exchange can make possible new techniques that improve the richness of
expression and the ability to move those rich ideas throughout the community.
But to evangelize is not enough. I hope this text will play a modest role in helping to
educate application developers in how to use Mozilla technology—not for the sake
of using a different technical platform, but to demonstrate what is possible when the
collective knowledge of the international standards community finds its voice in the
marketplace. With such a diverse and creative pool of contributors, new Internet
applications are possible that feature improvements in responsiveness, greater flexi-
bility of interface design, and more expressive graphics.

ix
The goal of this book has little to do with searching for a victor in the browser wars.
Rather, this book is intended to discuss, through example, the application of interna-
tional standards in helping to launch the “next generation” of Internet applications.
The Mozilla technology is one of the best technologies, and one of the best tools
available, to make such a discussion possible.

Intended Audience
This book is intended for designers and developers charged with delivering innova-
tive standards-based Internet applications. This includes those responsible for server
applications or for the development of Internet-enabled desktop applications.
This book is designed to cover many of the practical issues related to the nuances of
XML User Interface (XUL)-based design. Rather than trying to be the authoritative
resource on browser internals, it focuses on the nuts and bolts of using the existing
tools to take advantage of the Firefox framework.
The development setting for this audience may involve any number of tools—the
Personal Hypertext Processor (PHP) or Java on the server side, and the Firefox
browser engine on the client side. The dominant language for the client platform is
most likely to be JavaScript, and developers should have a good understanding of
HTML and, hopefully, some exposure to eXtensible Markup Language (XML)-based
documents such as XHTML.
Members of the target audience could be developers of commercial applications,
extensions to the Firefox browser, or corporate applications. Some knowledge of
JavaScript will be very helpful, although most developers can pick up the language
quickly enough to learn it on the fly.
Most importantly, this book is targeted to those developers who are interested in
(and maybe committed to) using this technology to see what the next generation of
Internet applications will look like.

Why Buy This Book?

There is no doubt that online documentation, Wikis, and newsgroups provide the
lion’s share of information to developers using technologies such as XUL (pro-
nounced “zool”). A precious element of constant availability characterizes the web-
centric support community—you need not carry around a 500-page book to
guarantee access to important information.
But web access to online documentation can go only so far. Online documents are
best designed for quick searches and linked references that point to pages that, gen-
erally speaking, are read for only a few minutes at a time. Such spontaneous access

x | Preface
works well for reference lookups or quick reminders, but thoroughly covering a topic
from start to finish (as in the case of building XUL applications) requires a more
comprehensive approach that involves text, illustrations, and code.
The Web is also at a crossroads. Browser technologies are now stabilizing to the
point where security and reliability are a given. Growing use of web standards to
encode page content is also helping to improve the consistent look of content across
rendering engines.
The time is now ripe for the browser community to explore the next generation of
web standards, and to initiate a wider range of support for new document models to
render graphics, deliver music, and audit user input without needlessly imposing
simple tasks on tomorrow’s web servers.
This book doesn’t serve as just a reference source; it is a practical, hands-on intro-
duction to some of these evolving standards that allow developers to combine cre-
ativity with technology. Programming Firefox is less of a how-to book and more of a
what-if exploration that encourages developers to push the envelope of the Internet
experience.

Conventions Used in This Book

The following conventions are used throughout this book:
Constant width
Used in code segments, or in terms and phrases in the text that represent code
entries.
Constant width bold
Code that is being referenced in the text.
Constant width italic
Used in code segments meant to be customized by the reader.
Italic
Used to introduce new technical terms, to emphasize certain terms, and to refer
to filenames or pathnames.
Menu items
Used with arrows to illustrate a menu hierarchy, such as File ➝ Open.

This icon signifies a tip, suggestion, or general note.

This icon signifies a warning or caution.

Preface | xi
Terms and Usage
This book discusses applications of a software engine consisting of a collection of
cross-platform libraries written in C++. This collection of libraries was first wrapped
together as a browser named Mozilla.
Technically, I should call this book’s main topic the Mozilla Cross-Platform Compo-
nent Model (XPCOM) framework. Not all XPCOM libraries are used in the Firefox
browser, however, so I use the term Firefox framework—those libraries that are distrib-
uted as part of the browser-only components supported by the Mozilla Foundation.

A Tag or an Element?
This book is about interface elements, document elements, and technologies, each
having its own terminology. Several terms are used repeatedly throughout this book
and should be clarified here:
Widget
The actual physical representation of an interface element. The term widget is
most often used when discussing the physical appearance of a document. Wid-
gets include buttons, listboxes, and checkboxes.
Element
The basic unit that composes XHTML documents. Tables and divs are exam-
ples of elements.
Tag
The XML encoding of a document element. Examples of tags are <table>, <div>,
and <button>.

How This Book Is Organized

This book comprises a number of chapters designed to demonstrate the combina-
tion of the XUL interface and emerging Internet standards.
Developing a working application is one of the best ways to illustrate how to use a
new feature. Chapters 4 through 7 of this book focus on an embedded annotation
tool for citing and storing references to visited web sites. This project (dubbed News-
Search) is designed to demonstrate a progression of tasks and feature enhancements
for a real-world project. When added to the balance of the text, each chapter can
stand on its own to demonstrate a particular topic:
Chapter 1, Firefox and Friends
Provides an overview of Firefox technology and its history, and a review of the
technologies that are the focus of this book.
Chapter 2, XUL Basics
Gives an introduction to the graphical elements that compose a XUL application.

xii | Preface
Chapter 3, Coding and Testing for the Real World
Explains how to use the tools for development, including the JavaScript debug-
ger and Document Object Model (DOM) inspector. This chapter is a good foun-
dation for understanding the Firefox development tools and the process used to
design and build applications.
Chapter 4, Configuring for Chrome and a Server
Sketches out the first NewsSearch application—understanding the chrome URL
and how Firefox applications can communicate with a server using the asyn-
chronous HTTP Request protocol.
Chapter 5, Multiframe XUL
Covers managing an application with multiple content areas, and moving con-
tent selections between windows. This section deals somewhat with accessing
DOM data structures, and dealing with the sometimes thorny issue of managing
multiple frames of content.
Chapter 6, Trees, Templates, and Datasources
Describes connecting interface elements to the server-based Resource Descrip-
tion Framework (RDF). Here you’ll find a good introduction to RDF and how
the Firefox interface renders RDF content with trees, as well as how a JavaScript
program can manipulate RDF content.
Chapter 7, DOM Manipulation and Input/Output
Discusses altering document content and appearance using the DOM. This is a
more extensive discussion than that in Chapter 5, including steps to insert con-
tent and dynamically modify display styles.
Chapter 8, Graphics
Covers displaying graphics-rich documents using the Scalable Vector Graphics
(SVG) standard, and painting document regions using the drawing features of
the HTML Canvas element.
Chapter 9, Extending the Interface
Explains how to make the most of the Firefox framework by extending the func-
tionality of existing graphics elements as well as the Firefox interface.
Chapter 10, XForms
Discusses implementing the next-generation Forms interface through XForms, a
technology designed to increase validation features while reducing the overhead
on server logic.
Chapter 11, Installation and Deployment
Outlines developing for different languages and different deployment options.
Chapter 12, XUL Widget Reference
Gives an overview of the XUL widgets.
Glossary, XUL Widgets: Attributes, Properties, and Methods
Provides a list of attribute names used within the Firefox framework.

Preface | xiii
Demonstration Platforms
Throughout this book are numerous screenshots of example sessions using code
samples. Many of the images are from an OS X implementation; I’ve also included
several images from the Windows XP platform. There is no (intentional) emphasis
on one operating system’s implementation over another—only a reasonable effort to
show a good mix of cross-platform support.

Using Code Examples

This book is here to help you get your job done. In general, you may use the code in
this book in your programs and documentation. You do not need to contact us for
permission unless you’re reproducing a significant portion of the code. For example,
writing a program that uses several chunks of code from this book does not require
permission. Selling or distributing a CD-ROM of examples from O’Reilly books does
require permission. Answering a question by citing this book and quoting example
code does not require permission. Incorporating a significant amount of example
code from this book into your product’s documentation does require permission.
We appreciate, but do not require, attribution. An attribution usually includes the
title, author, publisher, and ISBN. For example: Programming Firefox by Kenneth C.
Feldt. Copyright 2007 O’Reilly Media, Inc., 978-0-596-10243-2.”
If you feel your use of code examples falls outside fair use or the permission given
above, feel free to contact us at [email protected].

Comments and Questions

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To comment or ask technical questions about this book, send email to:
[email protected]

xiv | Preface
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O’Reilly Network, see our web site at:
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Acknowledgments
Designing reusable frameworks and writing the implementation code is grueling,
exhausting work.
Making that effort pay off requires patient, persistent work to promote it and edu-
cate users about how such a new product can be used, what benefits it provides, and
yes, even what shortcomings exist.
This book would not be possible if it weren’t for those developers and designers
who took the time to explain the technology through newsgroups, emails, and
online documentation.
Particularly critical was the work done at XULPlanet.com (Aaron Anderson and Neil
Deakin). Their original documentation and examples gave me the confidence that a
sufficient foundation of information was available to take the “next step” in present-
ing an updated overview of XUL technology.
Also helpful were the contributors at mozilla.dev.tech.xul on news.mozilla.org who
responded to my questions with patience and grace. The work being done there by
Christian Biesinger and the other “regulars” has resulted in an invaluable tool avail-
able to the online community in supporting Mozilla/Firefox technology.
I also extend thanks to my editor, Simon St.Laurent, who provided positive feed-
back when I needed it most. Sincere thanks also goes to those who provided techni-
cal and editorial review—those who took the time to point out that even in technical
books, readers expect to be able to read and understand sentences.

Preface | xv
I would also be remiss if I did not extend a thank you to the pioneering companies
and businesses that risk much to integrate Mozilla and forward-looking Internet
technologies into their operations. No single event is more important to a new tech-
nology than the choice to use it in the affairs of business. The decision to tie one’s
economic future to an evolving family of technologies is the ultimate commitment to
“just make it work.” And without that commitment, there would be no need for bug
fixes, new revisions, conferences...or this book.
Finally, my thanks goes to the family members who sacrificed much in companion-
ship and demeanor during the difficult weeks that accompany such a project. I am
especially grateful to my mom, who gave me passion for the written word, and to
Betsy, whose interest and pride helped sustain my effort.

xvi | Preface
Chapter 1 CHAPTER 1
Firefox and Friends 1

The Firefox browser is a collection of C++ libraries designed to be assembled into

any number of applications that you can run on machines with any of the major
desktop operating systems (Windows, OS X, Linux, etc.).
A browser’s functionality combines what the user sees—through web content—and
underlying technologies used to access information and to decode, render, and styl-
ize content. Although much of this book focuses on the XUL interface language to
build application interfaces, it also touches on the evolving Internet standards that
extend the breadth and depth of information available through the Web.

Mozilla to Firefox and Thunderbird

Most people say the World Wide Web was “born” in the spring of 1993, when Jon
Mittelhauser and Marc Andreesen, working out of the University of Illinois, developed
what would become the first widely acceptable graphical interface to the Internet.
The software was known as Mosaic, and its widespread acceptance provided the first
indication that the Internet was something that could interest (and provide value to)
business users and the public.
Marc Andreesen went on to start Netscape Communications Corporation, a com-
pany that focused on the commercialization of the Netscape Navigator browser. In
1998, Netscape turned development of the browser over to the open source commu-
nity in the form of the Mozilla Organization. The Mozilla community rewrote the
Netscape code base and released the first commercial product in the form of
Netscape 6.
The browser was, unfortunately for Netscape, technically and commercially disap-
pointing. Netscape continued to support Mozilla-based browsers through 2003,
when America Online (which owned Netscape) shut down operations, leaving the
Mozilla organization on its own to continue development and commercialization of
the browser code.

1
The Mozilla browser was actually a suite of applications that incorporated both a
browser and an email and newsreader client. To reduce the perceived “bloat” of the
suite, Mozilla decided to break the browser portion out of the suite.
The initial browser was referred to as Phoenix, was renamed Firebird, and finally was
released as Firefox version 1.0 in November 2004.
Today the Mozilla Foundation operates as a nonprofit organization to manage the
open source development aspects of the program. The foundation owns the for-
profit Mozilla Corporation, which focuses on browser support for end users and
commercialization programs.
The Mozilla code base now supports the Firefox browser, the Thunderbird email cli-
ent (Figure 1-1), and the Camino browser for OS X. The complete application suite
(formerly the Mozilla suite) is now branded as the SeaMonkey Internet application
suite. All the browser engines implement the same rendering logic (the code that
paints the screen web content), known as the Gecko rendering engine. The Mozilla
suite offers tools to allow developers to embed the Gecko engine alone in custom-
ized applications.

Figure 1-1. Firefox browser and Thunderbird email client

2 | Chapter 1: Firefox and Friends

At its inception, much of the “buzz” around the original Mozilla browser concerned
the ability to extend the functionality of the Cross-Platform Component Model
(XPCOM) libraries on which it is built. Using XPCOM services and interfaces, a C++
(or JavaScript) programmer could build new components and add new logic to the
underlying Mozilla engine.
Although many developers still build on and extend the XPCOM library, the lion’s
share of developers’ work focuses on extending the interface and functionality using
“higher-level” services, such as the XML Bindings Language (XBL). Regardless of the
specific underlying technologies, the interfaces of all Mozilla applications are repre-
sented as XML User Interface Language (XUL) files.

XML Technologies
As I just mentioned, XUL stands for XML User Interface Language. In fact, many of
the key technologies discussed here are based on XML, or the Extensible Markup
Language. As the XML form so dominates both the interface design and the struc-
ture of displayed documents, it makes sense to consider what XML is, why it is so
important, and what impact it has on electronic document structure.

XML History
XML has its roots in the Standard Generalized Markup Language (SGML). SGML
was developed out of a 1960s IBM project to develop documents whose content
could be machine-readable. SGML was a metalanguage, a self-describing form that
allowed document contents to describe how it was encoded, facilitating machine-
driven typographic processes and, eventually, decoding and cataloging.
But SGML was very complex, and with the advent of the “GUI-friendly” Web, work
was initiated to carry over some of SGML’s advantages of portability to Internet-
rendered documents.
In 1995, work began under the auspices of the World Wide Web Consortium (W3C),
and XML version 1.0 became a consortium recommendation in February 1998.
XML’s power lies in a simple tree structure of text fields, and the capability to define
document types that enable decoders to interpret text fields in different ways. The
tree structure means that any software accessing a well-formed XML file “knows”
how to traverse the contents, which themselves are a feature of some utility.
But more exciting is the capability of an XML document to include a document type
reference that adds a context to the tree elements, giving meaning to the document’s
content. For example, an XML document type can define a row as a horizontal align-
ment of text, but a different document type can define a row as a portion of a mathe-
matical formula. That context can be used to direct the document renderer to display
graphics tables or math formulas.

XML Technologies | 3
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
Division No. 91, O. R. C., along with the officers of the different
transportation companies, will long be remembered for their generous
manner toward us. “Views of Portland, Oregon, and the Columbia River,” a
beautiful pamphlet souvenir issued by Mt. Hood Division, was presented to
each member of our party, and is highly prized. In connection with the
pamphlet is “a ticket of welcome” of coupon form, and is quite lengthy, but
all right, the first clause of which reads, “This contract with coupons
attached entitles the holder to a hearty welcome and a first-class reception
on entering the State of Oregon, and the courtesies of the Southern Pacific
Company, the Oregon Railroad and Navigation Company, and the Northern
Pacific Railway.
R. Koehler, E. P. Rogers,
General Manager S. P. A. G. P. A., S. P.
E. McNeill, B. Campbell,
Pres. & Mgr. O. R. & N. Traffic Mgr. O. R. & N.
W. H. Hulburt, J. W. Kendrick,
G. P. A., O. R. & N. Co. Genl. Mgr. N. P. Ry.
J. H. Hannaford, C. S. Fee,
Genl. Traffic Mgr. N. P. Ry. G. P. A., N. P. Ry.”
There are five clauses in the contract. The last clause reads, “The
Reception Committee will not be responsible for the loss of any diamonds
(kings and queens excepted), baggage, meals, or sleep on this run.
J. M. Poorman, J. W. Crocker,
Sec. & Treas. C. C.
“Mt. Hood Division No. 91, O. R. C.”
There are six coupons, each reading to and fro over a line between
different points of interest, and bearing at the bottom the name of the
superintendent over whose line it reads. The whole is a nicely gotten up
affair and a valued addition to our collection of souvenirs.
We leave here at 8.45 A. M., and the hour of departure being at hand (as
is always the case), a number of our new-found friends are at hand to see us
off. All along our route we have been constantly reminding the people who
we are by a yell we give in concert, with a vim that would drown the racket
of a college football team; and now, gathered in a bunch, we let go:—
 “Who are we? O. R. C.
“Pennsylvania employé.
“Rah! rah! boom—ah!” The ladies of our party are ready and let go:—
“Who are we? Who are we?
“The wives and the daughters of the O. R. C.
“Rah! rah! boom—ah!”
And now the cooks and waiters gathered at the windows and on the
platform of the “Lafayette” let go:—
“Who are we? P. P. C.

ALONG THE COLUMBIA RIVER.

“The cooks and the waiters of the O. R. C.

“Rah! rah! boom—ah!”
With all this din ringing in their ears the good people of Portland see our
train pulling away from their beautiful station. As they wave their adieus we
pass from their sight on a run of 146 miles over the Northern Pacific
Railway to Tacoma, Wash. N. P. engine No. 617 is drawing us, managed by
Engineer F. W. Bockerman and fired by H. Deam. The conductor is Henry
Buckley and the brakemen are H. Harkins and Tom Martin; Mr. Martin is a
young man from Chester County, Pennsylvania, who has come West to seek
his fortune, and has accepted the position of a brakeman with the
expectation of rising in the ranks, and we wish him success.
From Portland to Goble, 39 miles, we follow the Columbia River, which
is very high, and much of the low land is submerged. We can see buildings
surrounded by water that have been vacated, and we are reminded of the El
Paso flood. We look beyond this desolating waste of water and in the far
distance can see the glistening summits of Mt. Hood and Saint Helens.
Reaching Goble, our train is run on to the great ferry steamer “Tacoma,”
transported across the Columbia River to Kalama, and into the State of
Washington. Leaving Kalama, we pass through a fine farming country,
where agricultural industries seem to be extensively carried on. After
passing Centralia, which is a flourishing town of about 3000 inhabitants, we
have a splendid view of Mt. Rainier for several miles while we sweep
across the Yelm prairie. A short stop is made at Roy to pick up Brothers B.
W. Johnson and S. H. Ewalt, of Mt. Tacoma Division No. 249, O. R. C.,
who are members of committee on entertainment, and who promise to show
us the city of Tacoma after our arrival there. The country through here
seems to be rich in natural resources, for bordering the fertile valleys can be
seen heavily timbered hills and here and there a coal mine in operation.
Arriving in Tacoma at 4.40 P. M. Eastern (1.40 P. M. Pacific), we are
immediately taken out by Brothers Johnson and Ewalt to see the town and
are joined by A. F. Haines, passenger agent of Northern Pacific Railway,
Capt. A. Thompson, of the Portland Oregonian, C. P. Ferry, Esq. (who bears
the distinguished title of “Duke of Tacoma”), and a member of the Chamber
of Commerce, L. Ceasar, Esq., president of Tacoma Bank and a member of
the Board of Trade. The first place we visit is the County Court House.
“This,” says Mr. Ferry, “is one of the finest buildings in Tacoma, which,
you know, is the county seat of Pierce County. We had to have a court house
and thought we would build a good one; it cost $400,000.” We amused
ourselves looking through the museum located in this building, many of the
relics and works of art having been contributed by Mr. Ferry, who collected
many of them in foreign countries through which he has traveled. We spent
half an hour in the Court House and then entered into a street car, which
took us a much-enjoyed ride through the city to Point Defiance Park.
 To form a true conception of a Washington forest one has but to visit this
wonderful park. Such majestic trees we never saw before, many of them six
and eight feet in diameter and estimated to be 300 feet in height, great

C STREET, TACOMA, WASHINGTON.

BRIDGE, POINT DEFIANCE PARK, TACOMA, WASHINGTON.

pines and cedars, natural growth of the soil, and amongst them, growing in
wild profusion, great ferns six feet in height. In inclosures can be seen deer,
elk, and bear, natives of the wilds. Through this great forest park bridle
paths lead in all directions, and about 80 miles of bicycle track is built. The
park is situated on a high eminence overlooking Puget Sound. By a series of
steep paths and stairs we descend to the beach. The sound is a great body of
water with hardly a ripple on its surface. A half hour is spent here gathering
pebbles and shells, and then we head for the smelter, half a mile up the
beach.
A boathouse furnishes rowboats for those who want them, and a number
avail themselves of this opportunity to avoid a tiresome walk. Those who
walk ascend again the steps and steep pathway, and going along the forest
walk they arrive at the smelter the same time as those who rowed. We are
taken through the great hot, smoky building and shown the treatment ore
receives in all its stages from the smelter to the crucible. This immense
plant, owned and operated by the Tacoma Smelting and Refining Company,
handles gold, silver, and copper ore, and has an annual output of over
$900,000. A train of cars await us when we emerge from the works, flat
cars, fitted up with seats for the occasion; upon these we climb, and find as
we are slowly taken along the sound front that no conveyance could afford
a better view. Tacoma has 12 miles of a water front, upon which splendid
wharves, great warehouses, monster elevators, immense saw and flour mills
are built, the whole 12 miles being lined with industries of this character.
This trip over, we return to our train and find dinner awaiting us, after
which our train is run to the steamboat landing and we are taken aboard the
“City of Kingston,” belonging to the Northern Pacific Railway, for a trip of
28 miles to Seattle. We can hardly realize as the boat leaves the wharf that
our visit to Tacoma is over, so rapidly were we hustled along; but we are
highly pleased with the treatment we received and feel that Tacoma is a
wonderful place and her people will make her still more wonderful by their
thrift, their push, and activity. They have our best wishes for their future
progress and advancement.
The “City of Kingston” is a splendid boat and rides like a feather over
the waters of the sound, and from the expressions of delight on every hand
it is evident our people are enjoying the trip. The boat is in charge of
Engineer G. H. Lent and a gentlemanly purser, who have won the goodwill
of our party by kindly allowing us the freedom of the boat and showing us
through many of the elegantly-furnished state rooms with which the boat is
equipped. Arriving at Seattle, we are loaded in a large cable car and taken
through the city for about four miles and back again. It is so dark we cannot
see the town and can only enjoy the ride. We are taken to the station, where
we wait for half an hour for our train to arrive, which has been sent from
Tacoma to overtake us. We are all pretty thoroughly tired out, and are glad
when at about eleven o’clock our train arrives, and we are soon making
ourselves comfortable inside. M. M. Davis, Esq., a press representative of
Seattle, and Conductor Thomas Doyle in search of an “item” gave us a short
call just after our train came over from Tacoma. Brother Reagan and
“Alfalfa” are the only ones I see as

LATOURELLE FALLS, OREGON.

I leave the “refreshment corner” in the “combined” to seek repose in the

“Marco.” Our train is still standing at Seattle and the hour is close to
midnight.

THURSDAY, MAY 27th.

 Getting up this morning about 7.30, I find we are crossing another desert
—at least it has that appearance. We have left Ellensburg and are running
through a dry, sandy country along the Yakima River. Here and there we
pass a ranch where plots of land under irrigation are being cultivated, and
from the fertile appearance of these irrigated tracts it would seem that this
country needs but plenty of water to make it a blooming paradise. This
much I discover by looking out the window while waiting my turn to wash
and comb, for Brothers Terry, Brown, and Horner are ahead of me this
morning. We work on the principle “first come first served,” and all good
naturedly wait when there is nothing else to do. Completing my toilet, I go
to the smoker and find the genial conductor who is running the train, and
learn that he is a member of Mt. Hood Division No. 91; name, W. B. Hale.
“I took charge of your train at Ellensburg,” he says, on being asked the
question, “and am going with you as far as I can. We have engine No. 333,
run by Engineer Brant, who will take us to Pasco, 122 miles.” “This is a
barren-looking country for stock raising,” I remark, as I see a large drove of
cattle kicking up the dust in the desert as we pass them; “what do they live
on?” “Those cattle are from away back toward the hills, where there is
plenty of ‘bunch grass’ that they feed on, and are coming to the irrigation
canal for water, or perhaps they are being driven to the railroad station for
shipment. You would be surprised at the amount of stock shipped from
North Yakima, Prosser, and Kennewick,” is the reply. “There seems to be no
trouble about growing plenty of stuff where there is water,” I venture to
assert, seeing a verdant-looking plantation, like an oasis in the desert, a
short distance away. “Lack or scarcity of water is the only hindrance to
agricultural industry,” is the answer, “and this drawback is being rapidly
overcome by the construction of large irrigating canals by companies
formed for that purpose.”
“Breakfast is now ready in the dining car,” chimes the welcome voice of
Conductor McDonald at the open door. Several of our people had entered
the smoker during the last half hour, and all arise as one person at the music
of that well-known voice, that always brings “tidings of great joy.” “I think
Mr. McDonald has the loveliest voice, for a man,” is the flattering remark
of Mrs. Matthews as we make a break for the diner. Not one of us but what
thinks so too, but of course we know Mrs. Matthews is thinking of the song
McDonald sang to us a few evenings before.
 “There’s a tramp hidden between the ice chests under this car beating his
way, I heard some one say awhile ago,” says Manager Wyman at the
breakfast table. As we finish eating the train stops at the little station of
Kiona and we all get out to see the stowaway. Sure enough he’s there. In a
narrow space between the ice chests, about 16 inches wide, he has placed a
board on the dining-car ladder which is kept there, and crawled in on it, a
place so narrow that he cannot change his position

THE HOBO PASSENGER.

CROSSING COLUMBIA RIVER ON THE “TACOMA.”

or turn. We can see him all covered with dust, but he does not move, and we
are not sure that he is alive, for this Yakima dust is something terrible and
he has certainly got a dose of it. One of the dining-car boys brought him out
some bread and meat, a can of water, and a sponge to protect his mouth and
nostrils from the dust. We can see that he is alive when these things are
pushed into him, for he reaches out a hand as far as he can to receive them.
After passing Kennewick we cross the Columbia River and are soon at
Pasco, where a stop is made to change engines. While this is being done we
persuade our “mascot” to come from beneath the car. As he crawls from his
hiding place and straightens up Brother Ristein, who has his kodak ready,
takes a snap. We can see through the ginger-colored Yakima dust on his face
that he is a negro. “What’s your name?” I ask. “John Bell, sah.” “Where do
you live?” asks Brother Matthews. “Al’bama, sah.” “Where did you get on
this car?” asks Manager Wyman. “Tacoma, sah.” “How did you get to
Tacoma?” asks Brother Dougherty. “Cargo hosses, sah.” “Where do you
want to go, now?” asks Conductor Hale. “Montana, sah.” “Well, crawl in
your hole; we’re going to start,” replies Captain Hale, and turning to
Manager Wyman continues, “We may as well allow him to keep his place,
for soon as you rout him out there will be another one ready to crawl in. It’s
impossible to get through this part of the country without being troubled
with hoboes.”
We leave Pasco at 12.55 Eastern (9.45 Pacific) time with engine No.
405, Engineer Tom Allen and Fireman W. W. Thompson, who run us to
Spokane, 146 miles. Much of the country through which we are now
passing is very dry and barren-looking, but we are informed by Captain
Hale that it is considered a rich grazing district. From Lind to Sprague, a
distance of 45 miles, many large herds of horses and cattle are seen. Just
before reaching Sprague we run for two miles on the border of Spring Lake,
a fine body of water that looks very refreshing after so many miles of dry
and dusty territory. We stop at Sprague a few minutes for water and notice
the place has had a very serious fire not long since.
“Captain,” I ask, addressing Brother Hale, who is near by, “what has
happened to Sprague?” “The town was nearly wiped out about a year ago
by a very bad fire,” is the reply, “and it is a great pity, for Sprague was a
pretty little place and a thriving town. It is the county seat of Lincoln
County, and had a population of about 2000. It is the headquarters of the
Idaho Division of the Northern Pacific Railway, and the company’s
machine shops and roundhouse were completely destroyed and all those
engines ruined,” and he points to where can be seen about a dozen
locomotives, burned and warped, standing on the tracks that had been the
interior of the roundhouse and shops.
Another run of 25 miles through good farming and grazing territory,
interspersed with considerable timber land, brings us to Cheney, where we
again make a short stop. Since crossing the Columbia our course has been
upward, and from an elevation at Kennewick of 350 feet we have now
reached 2300 feet. Cheney is a growing business place of 1200 inhabitants.
It is nicely located on the great plateau of the Columbia and surrounded for
many miles with rich farm land and abundant timber.

ELEVATOR A, TACOMA, WASHINGTON.

SHORE OF LAKE PEND D’OREILLE AT HOPE, IDAHO.

 Here we meet Mr. H. W. McMaster, chief dispatcher of Northern Pacific
Railway at Spokane, whom we find to be a very courteous and agreeable
gentleman. On a sidetrack near where our train stands, Mr. McMaster
shows us the largest locomotive on the Northern Pacific Railway, No. 150.
Engine and tender without fuel or water weigh 106 tons; it has a 34-inch
cylinder; was built in Schenectady, N. Y., since the first of the year. They
have had it but a short time but find it very satisfactory. It is in charge of
Engineer J. Bruce and is run in the freight service between Spokane and
Pasco. Mr. McMaster accompanies us to Spokane, where we arrive at 5.20
P. M. Eastern (2.20 P. M. Pacific), and are met at the station by Dr. E. D.
Olmsted, Mayor of Spokane. We are introduced to the Mayor by Mr.
McMaster in a neat little speech. His Honor responds in a pleasant manner,
bidding us welcome and giving us the freedom of the city. The street
railway management offers us the use and freedom of their lines so long as
we wish to remain in the city. We have but two hours here, and the
municipal authorities and street railway managers vie with one another in
their efforts to show us as much of the city as possible in the short time we
will be with them. A number of carriages are sent around and quickly
loaded up, accommodating about one-half of the party, the remainder board
street cars, and we start on a tour of the city.
Spokane is the county seat of Spokane County, with a population of
about 32,000. It occupies a remarkably picturesque location on both sides of
the Spokane River, a mighty mountain torrent, the rush and roar of whose
eternal, resistless energy holds the visitors to-day spellbound and speechless
with admiration, amazement, and awe. We had looked upon, we supposed,
during the past two weeks, all varieties and degrees of running, rushing, and
falling waters, but at no time have we gazed upon such a tumbling,
seething, foaming, roaring torrent as this that now fascinates us with its
sublime grandeur and astounds us with its terrific force.
Right through the centre of the city, with a fall of 150 feet in the space of
half a mile, this mighty torrent tears, dashing and splashing, surging and
foaming against and amongst the great rocks and boulders that beset its
course with a fury that is indescribable, and we feel as we gaze upon this
wonderful, awe-inspiring spectacle that there is no more limit to the power
of the elements than there is to the measure of eternity. This magnificent
river that never freezes runs the great electric plant that lights the city and
operates 45 miles of electric railway. It furnishes power for numerous flour
and saw mills, factories and foundries that can be seen in operation along its
banks, giving an aspect of business activity to the place that is a pleasing
manifestation of prosperity and enterprise.
Its fine, substantial, costly church, school, municipal, and other public
buildings and superb private residences are indications that there is wealth
in Spokane. Because of the advantages and facilities of its admirable
location, surrounded by vast forests of valuable timber, fertile agricultural
valleys, rich mining districts, and the traffic of seven railroads, we predict
for Spokane a phenomenal future. It is destined, we are sure, at an early day
to be the first city of the great Northwest. Not one of the party will ever
forget our short visit to

SPOKANE FALLS, SPOKANE.

SPOKANE, WASHINGTON.
 Spokane. Mr. McMaster took Brothers Maxwell and Reagan around with
his own team and Captain Hale took Manager Wyman. The street-car party
was under the escort of James Mendenhall, Esq., an old schoolmate of
Brother James Matthews. Mr. Mendenhall came West several years ago,
located at Spokane, and engaged in real estate business. He is now one of
the prominent citizens of the place and closely identified with the business
interests and enterprises of the city. We also met Mark Mendenhall, Esq., a
brother of James, who is a leading attorney in Spokane. No, we will not
forget the courtesy and kindness of the good people of Spokane, and the
good people of Spokane will not forget us, for they have only to remember
that on the afternoon of May 27th, 1897, street-railway traffic was blocked
for thirty minutes by a car abandoned by the Pennsylvania Railroad
conductors and kept waiting for them while they viewed the grandeur of
Spokane Falls for half an hour from the rear balcony of the brewery.
At 7.40 P. M. Eastern (4.40 P. M. Pacific) time we are all aboard our
train once more, and with Engineer Secord at the throttle of engine No. 119
we quickly leave beautiful Spokane far in our rear. Captain Hale is still with
us, his brakeman being A. S. Harding. A hobo is discovered lying on the
truss rods of the combined car; he can be seen by looking around the side of
the car; his position seems a perilous one, but our train makes no stop till it
gets to Hope, 84 miles, so he is allowed to remain and take his chances. For
several miles we pass through magnificent cattle ranges and fine farming
lands. As we approach Hope the road skirts the shores of Lake Pend
d’Oreille for about three miles, giving us a fine view of this beautiful body
of water. We arrive at Hope 10.00 Eastern (7.00 Pacific) time and stop
twenty-five minutes to change engines. Here a change is also made in time;
it changes from Pacific to Mountain time, one hour later than Pacific and
two hours earlier than Eastern time. Hobo No. 2 changed his position from
the truss rods of the combined car to a pile of ties when the train stopped at
Hope. He was given a lunch by one of the dining-car boys and advised not
to anchor himself in the same place again, as the position was not only a
dangerous one, but very conspicuous. When asked his name he said it was
J. W. Kelsey, that he was trying to get home, had been away for two years,
and wanted to see his mother. Hobo No. 1 lays low, for he knows should he
for a moment vacate his narrow quarters under the “Lafayette” there would
be a scramble for his place. It is growing dusk, and through the gloom of
the dying day we have counted no less than fifteen skulking forms about the
train, watching for an opportunity to secrete themselves underneath or about
the train for the purpose of obtaining free transportation.
Bidding adieu to big-hearted, genial Captain Hale, who has been with us
for 357 miles, we leave Hope at 10.25 P. M. Eastern (8.25 P. M. Mountain)
time with N. P. engine No. 438, with Engineer Jim Bailey at the throttle,
whose fireman is John Ryan. Conductor William Gilbert has charge of the
train and his brakemen are T. S. McEachran and F. R. Foote. This crew runs
us to Helena, 297 miles. Ten miles from Hope we cross Clark’s Fork, a
branch of the Columbia River,

W. B. HALE, CONDUCTOR NORTHERN PACIFIC RAILWAY.

and through the gathering darkness we can see that we have entered a wild
and rocky region, the road winding around and among mountain ranges and
snow-capped peaks, following the course of the stream we just crossed for
60 miles.
Captain Gilbert and his brakemen are lively, interesting company, and
entertain us during the evening with anecdotes and stories of Western life.
“Are you troubled much with tramps, captain?” some one asks, as
Conductor Gilbert, during the conversation, made some allusion to the
profession. “They do not give us much real trouble,” is the reply, “yet they
are a matter of concern, for we are never without them, and need to be
constantly on guard; there is always a Wandering Willie around somewhere,
and you never know what mischief he may be up to. There are at least a
dozen on this train to-night. The trucks are full and several on top of the
cars.” This is rather startling information, and I notice Brother Sheppard
clap his hand on his right hip pocket to make sure the “critter” is there, and
Alfalfa quietly unlocks the cupboard door, where “our artillery” is kept. I
see no sign of fear on the serene countenance of Captain Gilbert and believe
we’re not in danger; yet Brothers Maxwell and Terry start through the train
to make sure the vestibule doors are barred and step traps fastened down. At
Trout Creek, a small station 48 miles from Hope, we stopped for water, and
F. Hartman, roadmaster of the Missoula and Hope Division, got aboard and
went with us to Horse Plains. It is now near midnight, and making my way
from the smoker to the “Marco” I turn in, wondering how the poor fellows
who are hanging on to the brake beams are enjoying themselves, for Bailey
with the “438” is switching them around the curves at a pretty lively rate.

FRIDAY, MAY 28th.

Our arrival in Helena at six o’clock this morning and the announcement
of an early breakfast soon has everybody astir. After breakfast we bid adieu
to jolly, whole-souled Captain Gilbert and his genial crew, and under the
escort of Assistant General Passenger Agent W. Stuart, Assistant General
Ticket Agent C. E. Dutton, and Conductor Dodds, of the Northern Pacific
Railway, and Messrs. E. Flaherty and H. D. Palmer, of Helena Board of
Trade, start out to see the town. Our time is limited, for we are scheduled to
leave at twelve o’clock, and it is impossible to give all the interesting
features of this remarkable city the attention they deserve. Helena is a
wealthy town; it is located in the centre of one of the richest mining districts
in the world; it is the capital of Montana and the county seat of Lewis and
Clarke County, with a population of about 14,000; it is up to date in its
financial, educational, and religious institutions, and both private residences
and public buildings are models of architectural symmetry, strength, and
beauty. A military post named Fort Harrison has recently been established
here which will be one of the principal points for the quartering of troops in
the Northwest. A ride of almost three miles on the electric line through this
interesting city brings us to the Hotel Broadwater and “Natatorium,” where
the celebrated hot springs are located. We are given the freedom of the
bathing pool, which is one of the largest and finest under cover in the world.
The most of our party take advantage of the treat, and for an hour the waters
of the pool are almost churned into foam by the sportive antics of the
crowd, whose capers afford great entertainment and amusement for those
who do not care to “get into the swim” with the rest. This place is much
resorted to by tourists, and invalids are said to be much benefited by
bathing in the waters of these hot springs, which are strongly impregnated
with sulphur, salt, and iron and heated by Nature’s process to a very
pleasant temperature.
Leaving the Natatorium we are invited to the immense brewery
establishment of Nicholas Kessler, near by, to await the coming of our train,
which is to be brought here for us, as the railroad runs within a short
distance of the place. Mr. Kessler is a former Pennsylvanian, one of those
hospitable, generous, big-hearted Pennsylvania Dutchmen, and when he
learned we hailed from his native State his pleasure was greater than he was
able to express and his generosity almost boundless. In the fine pavilion
adjoining his establishment he spread us a sumptuous lunch and seemed
aggrieved that we didn’t eat and drink all that was placed before us, which
was enough for 500 people. When at last our train comes and we bid the old
gentleman farewell there are tears in his eyes as he tells us how happy he is
that we called to see him, and that he would never forget the Pennsylvania
Railroad conductors. He accompanies us over to the train (so do several of
his men with boxes on their shoulders), and as we steam away and leave
behind us the city of Helena and our generous-hearted new-made friends,
we notice in the “refreshment corner” of our combined car a pile of boxes
bearing the trade mark of “Nic” Kessler, and another box containing fine
oranges that bears the mark of H. S. Hepner, a merchant of Helena.
The space between the ice chests beneath the dining car is vacant; our
mascot has fled, having ridden in that uncomfortable position for 782 miles.
It is 12.55 P. M. Helena time when we leave here for Butte over the
Montana Central branch of the Great Northern Railway. We have G. N.
engine No. 458, Engineer Pete Leary, Fireman R. Hanna, Conductor M.
Sweeney, Brakemen F. W. Minshall and F. J. Chapman, who take us to
Butte, a distance of 75 miles. As a guest we have with us Trainmaster J. W.
Donovan, of the Montana Central, who will accompany us to Butte. We find
Mr. Donovan an agreeable and entertaining gentleman who tells us much
that is interesting of the country through which we are passing. “This
branch was built,” says Mr. Donovan, “for almost the sole purpose of
developing the mining interests of the country. You will see very little of
any other industry from here to Butte than mining.”
After leaving Clancy we ascend a steep grade, from which we look down
into a pretty valley that Mr. Donovan tells us is called Prickly Pear Cañon.
Passing Amazon we follow Boulder River for 12 miles as it courses through
the beautiful valley of the same name. Four miles from Amazon we pass
through Boulder and can see that it is a thriving town. “Boulder is the
county seat of Jefferson County,” says Mr. Donovan, “and has a population
of about 1200. It ranks as one of the important cities of Montana, being in
the centre of a rich mining region.”
This is a wonderful mining district through which we are passing, all the
hills and mountain sides being literally honeycombed with the gaping
mouths of mines. Eight miles from Boulder we come to the town of Basin,
“the largest city,” says Mr. Donovan, “in Jefferson County, having a
population of about 200 more than Boulder.” The railroad runs close to the
ruins of what had apparently been a large building recently destroyed by
fire, and we inquire of Mr. Donovan what it had been. “Two years ago,” he
replies, “the Basin and Bay State Smelting Company erected an immense
plant that was destroyed by fire as soon as it was in operation. To build and
equip the plant cost over $100,000, and its destruction was not only a heavy
loss but a serious blow to the mining industries of Basin and all the adjacent
country; but I hear it is to be rebuilt if the output and value of the ore in this
section will warrant it.”
Our progress has become very slow and engine No. 458 is laboring very
hard. “We are now ascending a grade,” says Mr. Donovan, “of 116 feet to
the mile and have eight miles to go before we reach the summit.” It is a
tedious climb, but we do not weary of viewing the wondrous mountain
scenery. As we slowly approach the top of the grade we obtain an excellent
view of Bison River Cañon, an exceedingly wild, rugged, and picturesque
region. At last we reach the summit at an altitude of 6350 feet above sea
level; this is the dividing line between the Atlantic and Pacific slopes. From
this point the waters flow westward to the Pacific and eastward to the
Atlantic Oceans. I look at my watch; it is 7.55 P. M. in Philadelphia and
5.55 here. We now make better time, and in twenty minutes we arrive in
Butte, and are met by Brother O. L. Chapman, C. C., and Brother H. C.
Grey, secretary and treasurer of Butte Division No. 294, also Brothers J. H.
Dunn and A. H. Elliott, of same division, who introduce us to Major
Dawson, “the man who knows everybody in Butte,” and to Mr. J. R.
Wharton, manager of Butte Street Railway, who gives us the freedom of his
lines. Our people are escorted by the kind brothers who met us, by carriages
and street cars, to the Butte Hotel, where refreshments are served, after
which we are loaded into two large band wagons and driven through the
principal streets of the city. Butte is a wonderful city, worth a trip across the
continent to see. It is strictly a mining town and has a population of over
38,000. It is situated near the headwaters of Clark’s Fork of the Columbia
River, on the west slope of the dividing range of the Rocky Mountains.
Butte is the county seat of Silver Bow County, a county marvelously rich in
its mineral products, the aggregate value of its gold, silver, and copper
product for one year reaching the enormous sum of $9,060,917.59; and yet
it is claimed the mining industry in this district is still in its infancy.
Butte is a city of fine, substantial buildings that are up to date in style
and beauty of architecture, and yet it is a bald and barren town, for not a
tree, a leaf, a bush, a flower, or a blade of grass can we see anywhere within
the length or breadth of its limits. It is surrounded on every hand by
smoking smelters and grinning mines, and its streets are filled with rugged,
stalwart miners. The eight-hour system of labor is in vogue here, and the
mines and smelters run day and night. The great Anaconda Mine, owned
and operated by the Anaconda Company, the richest mining corporation in
the world, extends, we are told, under the very centre of the city of Butte,
the Butte Hotel standing directly over it. The pay rolls of the mining
industries of Butte aggregate $1,500,000 yearly. We are driven out to the
Colorado Smelter, and on the way pass the Centennial Brewery, where a
short stop is made to obtain some souvenirs. We are shown through the
great smelter, and when we come out it has grown quite dark. Our drivers
are old stagers and understand handling the reins. To one wagon are
attached six white horses, driven by W. M. McIntyre, of the New York Life
Insurance Company, and to the other wagon are four bays, driven by Hanks
Monk, a well-known character of the West. Hanks is an old stage driver,
and claims to be a son of the celebrated Hanks Monk of Horace Greeley
and Mark Twain fame. Mr. Monk tells us that he is a Mormon, and a deacon
in Salt Lake City Church, but has only one wife, and has found one to be
plenty. He is a genial, good-hearted fellow, who, notwithstanding the
hardships of his rugged life of fifty-seven years, looks but forty. Hanks
claims he followed the trail for many years and never got far astray, but he
will have to acknowledge that he got off the trail once, when he ran the
wagon load of Pennsylvania Railroad conductors into a sand bank in going
from the Colorado Smelter to the station in Butte on the night of May 28th,
1897. Hanks, however, redeemed himself by the dexterous and graceful
manner in which he guided those bewildered horses until he struck the
proper trail again, and brought us to the station all O. K. It is 10 o’clock P.
M. in Butte and time for our train to start. We bid our kind and generous
friends and brothers adieu and get aboard. Engine No. 305, in charge of
Engineer J. Else, is drawing us, and Conductor J. A. West has charge of the
train; C. Dunham is our brakeman. We have as a guest on the train Mr. H. E.
Dunn, traveling agent of the Oregon Short Line. After a delay of an hour at
Silver Bow, waiting to get a helper engine to assist up a grade, we start on
our way again at 1.15 A. M. Eastern (11.15 P. M. Mountain) time, and I
make my way to my berth in the “Marco.”

SATURDAY, MAY 29th.

Was awakened this morning between two and three o’clock by a jar that
almost tumbled me out of bed; thought at first our train had left the track
and had run into the side of a mountain; I lay quiet a moment, expecting
another crash. It didn’t come, and I realized our train was standing still.
“Guess I was dreaming,” I said to myself, as I reach over, raise the window
blind, and look out. A freight train is moving past and our train is
motionless. Mrs. S. is awake, and my movement informs her that I am in
the same condition. “What was that?” she quietly asks, referring to the
shock that awakened us. “I don’t know, my dear, but I’m sure it was
something,” I reply, satisfied now that it wasn’t a dream. We believe the
danger is over; that there is nothing to worry about, and are soon asleep
again.
Arose this morning about the usual time and find we have just left
Pocatello, Idaho, 262 miles from Butte City. We have come through much
interesting country while asleep, and have missed seeing the beautiful Idaho
Falls. The shaking up we received last night was caused by Engineer Oram
coupling engine No. 760 to our train at Lima. Oram miscalculated the
distance and banged into our train with more force than he intended. At
Pocatello engine No. 760 is exchanged for O. S. L. engine No. 735, with
Engineer J. Andrews and Fireman Standrod in the cab, Conductor G. W.
Surman and Brakeman H. Hewett, who run us to Ogden, 134 miles.
Pocatello is located in Fort Hall, Indian Reservation, and while passing
through this district we see a number of the natives. Much of the country is
level and covered with sage brush and bunch grass, constituting immense
cattle ranges, with here and there a plot of land under cultivation, watered
by irrigation, while at a distance on either side can be seen great ranges of
snow-capped mountains. We are reminded of Chester County and home as
we see the familiar name of “Oxford” above a little station door as we fly
past, midway between Dayton and Cannon. We cross the State Line and
enter Utah. Coming to Cache Junction, we are in view of Bear River, that
feeds the great irrigating canal constructed by the Bay State Canal and
Irrigating Company at a cost of $2,000,000. This canal is about 80 miles
long, the waters from which irrigate many thousand acres of land; it is
converting this dry and barren desert country into a land of fertility, fruits,
and flowers.
As we approach Ogden this great improvement is very noticeable in the
beautiful, productive farms and homesteads that are seen on every hand.
The most of the settlers through this locality, we are told, are Mormons, but
the aspect of their condition and surroundings show them to be a thrifty,
industrious, enterprising people. We arrive in Ogden at 11.20 A. M., where
a stop of only twenty minutes is allowed. We are met by Conductor E. S.
Croker, C. C. of Wasatch Division No. 124, and J. H. McCoy, of same
division, who is yardmaster for the Union Pacific Railroad at this point.
Much as we desire to make a tour of this interesting city, our limited time
will not allow it, but we can see that it is a thriving business place. It is
situated on the western slope of the Wasatch Range, at an elevation of 4301
feet above sea level, on a triangle formed by the Weber and Ogden Rivers,
which, uniting a short distance west of the city, flow across the famous
historic valley and empty into the Great Salt Lake.
At Ogden, going west, the Union Pacific Railroad time changes from
Mountain to Pacific time. At 1.40 P. M. Eastern (11.40 A. M. Mountain)
time we start on our way again with R. G. W. engine No. 41, in charge of
Engineer J. Stewart, Conductor George King, and Brakeman J. Crompton.
From Ogden to Salt Lake City we are in continual view of the Great Salt
Lake, and pass a number of evaporating dams, where a large amount of salt
is procured through the process of evaporation. We arrive in Salt Lake City
at 12.30 P. M. Mountain time, and leaving the train we are again hustled
into wagons and driven over the city, the places of interest being pointed
out and explained by the drivers. Time and space will not permit me to note
and describe all the interesting features of this historic and truly wonderful
city. We passed through the famous Eagle Gateway and halted on a lofty
promontory overlooking

“DAN,” SALT LAKE CITY RAILROAD STATION, UTAH.

 GRAVE OF BRIGHAM YOUNG, SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH.

Temple Square, where we had a grand view of the magnificent

$10,000,000 Mormon Temple. Near the Temple is the Tabernacle, an
immense, singular-looking affair, with a roof like the shell of a huge
tortoise. We are shown the Lion House and Beehive House, former
residences of Brigham Young and his large family, and pass the grave where
the remains of the great leader lie. It is a plain, ordinary-looking mound,
inclosed with a common iron fence. The great monument erected to the
imperishable fame of Brigham Young is this beautiful, remarkable city that
he founded fifty years ago. For thirty years he was the temporal and
religious leader of his people here, and Salt Lake City was almost strictly
Mormon. It is exclusive no longer, for of its present population of 65,000
about one-half, we are told, are Gentiles or Christians. “The Christian
Science faith is making rapid advances,” says our driver, “and many
Mormons are being converted to that creed.” Brigham Young was the father
of fifty-six children; when he died he left seventeen widows, sixteen sons,
and twenty-eight daughters to mourn his loss, many of whom are living yet.
We are driven through Liberty Park, where is still standing the first flour
mill built in Utah. Returning to the train we get dinner, after which our
people scatter through the city to see the sights and gather more souvenirs.
We are all impressed with the beauty and regularity of the streets, which all
cross at right angles, are 132 feet wide, including the sidewalks, which are
20 feet in width, bordered with beautiful Lombardy poplar and locust trees.
Along each side of the street flows a clear, cold stream of water, which,
with the beauty of the trees and the sweet fragrance of the locust blossoms,
gives to the city an all-pervading air of coolness, comfort, and repose which
is exceedingly inviting to a warm and weary tourist. The hour grows late
and the time arrives to return to our train, which is sidetracked for
occupancy at the Rio Grande Western depot. Several of our party gather at
the corner of Main and Second South Street to await the coming of a trolley
car that will convey us to the depot, about two miles away. According to the
schedule of the line a car should pass every ten minutes, but to-night must
be an exception, for it is forty-five minutes before our car arrives, and
several of the party have started to walk. It is near midnight when we reach
our train and turn in for the night.
 SUNDAY, MAY 30th.
We are all astir bright and early this morning, and after breakfast,
through the courtesy of the managers of the Saltair and Los Angeles
Railway, we are tendered a trip on their line to Saltair, one of the latest
attractions on the Great Salt Lake, 10 miles from the city. We leave the Rio
Grande Western depot at 9.30 on a Saltair and Los Angeles train with
engine No. 2, Engineer A. M. Clayton, Fireman John Little, Conductor
Joseph Risley, Brakeman F. T. Bailey. We have a thirty minutes’ pleasant
ride through an interesting country. The first few miles we pass through a
district of cozy homes, surrounded by fertile fields and gardens, the result
of industry and irrigation; then come great level stretches of country,
utilized as grazing ground, upon which can be seen feeding thousands of
sheep. As we approach the “Great Dead Sea” of America we see that
gathering salt is the chief industry, and we pass many basins or dams where
hundreds of tons of this useful commodity are procured through the process
of evaporation. Arriving at our destination we find Saltair is a magnificent
mammoth pavilion built on the waters of Great Salt Lake, 4000 feet from
shore. A track resting upon piles connects the pavilion with the mainland,
and over this our train is run.
Saltair was erected in 1893 by Salt Lake capitalists at an expense of
$250,000. It is of Moorish style of architecture, 1115 feet long, 335 feet
wide, and 130 feet high from the water to the top of the main tower. It is
over a quarter of a mile from shore and rests upon 2500 ten-inch piling or
posts driven firmly into the bottom of the lake. It contains 620 bath houses
or dressing rooms, and connected with each room is an apartment equipped
with a fresh-water shower bath. Visitors who wish to drink or lunch or
lounge will find at their disposal a fine apartment 151 by 153 feet, furnished
with convenient tables and comfortable chairs, or if it is their desire to “trip
the light fantastic toe,” they will find the ball room always open, a fine
piano, and dancing floor 140 by 250 feet. At night this wonderful place is
lighted by electricity, there being 1250 incandescent and 40 arc lamps, and
above all, in the centre of the building, there is an arc light of 2000 candle
power. The bathing season has not opened yet and the water is said to be
cold, but many of us have a strong desire to take a plunge in this remarkable
and famous lake. The temperature of the water is found to be about 75
degrees, and opinion is divided as to whether or not it is too cold. Manager
Wyman takes off his shoes and stockings and dabbles in the water. “It is not
cold,” he exclaims, “and I’m going in;” and procuring a bathing suit he is
soon splashing in the brine. His example is rapidly followed by others, until
the majority of our party, both men and women, are floating and
floundering around in water so salt that its density enables one to swim and
float with ease, but you are helpless when you attempt to place your feet
upon the bottom; the water within the bathing limits averages about five
feet in depth, and the bottom is hard, smooth, and sandy. “If you get water
in your mouth spit it out, and if you get it in your eyes don’t rub them,” is
the advice given us by the bath attendant. If you get this water in your
mouth you want to spit it out right away; that part of the caution is
unnecessary, for it is the worst stuff I ever tasted. If you get it in your eyes
you will want to rub them, and rub them hard, but don’t do it, and you will
be surprised how soon the intense smarting will cease.
We love to swim and dive and splash and sport in the water, and have
bathed in many places, but in a brine like this never before. In fact, it has
been said that nothing like it can be found anywhere this side of the Dead
Sea of Palestine. We remained in the water for an hour and all thoroughly
enjoyed its peculiar qualities. Several of the party who never swam before
did so to-day, but it was because they couldn’t help it, and it was better than
a circus to see them. Not one of us regret or will ever forget our trip to
Saltair and our bath in Great Salt Lake. Strange as it may seem, this great
inland sea occupies an altitude 4000 feet higher than the Atlantic and
Pacific Oceans. It is 93 miles long, with an average width of 43 miles,
containing almost 4000 square miles. It is shallow compared with the depth
of other large bodies of water, its deepest places measuring but 60 feet. A
number of islands rise out of its waters, the largest being Stansbury and
Antelope, near its southern shore. It is between these two islands that
beautiful, destined-to-be-celebrated Saltair is located.
Returning, we arrive at the Rio Grande Western depot about 12.30, and
after partaking of lunch in our dining car we go in a body to attend services
in the Mormon Tabernacle. They were looking for us, for we had been
invited to come, and we find a section of vacant seats awaiting us near the
centre of the immense auditorium. We are all favorably impressed with
what we see and hear, the Mormon manner of worship being not unlike that
of any other church. So far as we can discern, the speakers make no effort
to expound any particular or peculiar creed or doctrine, but preach charity,
love, and duty to one another and obedience to the laws of God, which is a
religion good enough for the entire world. An attractive feature of the
service is the singing, the choir consisting of 400 voices, accompanied by
the music of what is claimed to be one of the largest church organs in the
world, and led by a gentleman highly skilled in his profession, who
manages his great concourse of singers with remarkable accuracy and
precision. This music is aided and enhanced by the peculiar and marvelous
acoustic properties of the building, which seems to convey and distribute
sound in such a wonderful manner that the entire edifice is filled with the
grand and charming melody. We are all delighted and highly appreciate the
privilege of having been allowed to visit this, one of the noted wonders of
this famous Mormon city. The Tabernacle is an oddly-constructed building,
250 feet long, 150 feet wide, and 80 feet high, covered with an oval-shaped
roof that, without any visible support except where it rests upon the walls,
spans the vast auditorium beneath, which will seat over 8000 people.
The place was well filled to-day, and we are told that it is not unusual to
have a congregation of 10,000 within the inclosure during Sabbath service.
There are twenty double doors nine feet in width, which open outward, like
the great doors of a barn, and the floor being on a level with the ground
outside, the vast congregation is enabled to make its exit in a very few
minutes without crowding or confusion.
The services being over, we soon find ourselves outside the building, but
still within the inclosure that constitutes Temple Square. This square or
“block,” containing about ten acres, is surrounded by a wall two feet thick
and fourteen feet high, composed of adobe bricks built upon a foundation of
stone. Four great gates, one on each side, lead into the inclosure, which is
ornamented with fine shade trees and beautiful flowers, and contains the
three famous buildings of the Mormons, or “Latter Day Saints,” as they
prefer to be called. The Tabernacle, where regular service is held each
Sabbath, is the only edifice to which the public is admitted. Assembly Hall,
a large granite building of unique design, erected in 1880 at a cost of
$90,000, is used exclusively by Church officials for special meetings
 THE MORMON TEMPLE AND SQUARE, SALT LAKE CITY.

pertaining to the business of the Church. The Temple, a grand granite

structure, the building and furnishing of which, we are told, has cost many
millions of dollars, is as a sealed book to the outside world. Its interior is
regarded as holy, consecrated ground, that has never been contaminated by
an “unbeliever’s” presence. To admit a Gentile within its walls would be a
fearful desecration. We cannot get inside, and gaze in admiration and
curiosity upon its grand and massive walls, wondering what mighty
mysteries are hidden within. Near the Temple that he designed and the
corner stone of which he laid stands the statue of Brigham Young.
Leaving the grounds, our party scatters, some returning to the train and
others strolling around the city. The sun shines very hot, but it is cool and
refreshing in the shade. Mrs. S. and myself make a call on Mrs. Catharine
Palmer, residing on State Street, a sister of Mr. C. K. Dolby, of Delaware
County, Pennsylvania, an acquaintance of mine, who requested me to call
on his sister had I the opportunity while in Salt Lake City. We are cordially
received and spend a pleasant hour with Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, who are well
advanced in years and very comfortably fixed. Their residence is
surrounded by great maple trees, planted by Mr. Palmer many years ago,
and he now loves to sit on his porch under their grateful shade and enjoy the
fruits of his well-spent days of industry and toil.
 On our return to the depot I encounter a party of the “boys” under the
escort of Mr. James Devine, chief of Salt Lake City fire department, an
acquaintance of Brother Leary’s, who are starting on a little tour through the
town. I join them, and boarding an electric car we make a pleasant trip and
are shown many places of interest. Mr. Devine is an excellent guide and
entertains us with a number of anecdotes and stories of the people and their
customs. “Who is the present head of the Mormon Church, Mr. Devine?” I
ask. “An old gentleman by the name of W. Woodruff,” replies Mr. Devine,
“but it will not be long, I think, before they will need another, for Mr.
Woodruff is past ninety years of age. A short time ago, in commemoration
of his ninetieth birthday, a family reunion was held, at which gathering his
children, grandchildren, and greatgrandchildren numbered 90, one direct
descendant for each year of his life. The old man is quite wealthy and owns
some of the most fertile land in the State of Utah, if not in the world. I know
it to be a fact that an experiment was made last year with an acre of his land
to determine the amount of potatoes that can be raised per acre under
favorable conditions, and that acre produced the extraordinary yield of 800
bushels. A like experiment in producing wheat resulted in the
unprecedented yield of 82 bushels.” We can hardly credit this, but Mr.
Devine declares it is true. One of the “boys” has been holding a letter in his
hand, addressed to some friend in the East, and for some time has been
waiting for a chance to deposit it in a letter box without getting left; at last
he sees a chance, and quickly springing from the car when it stops at a
corner to discharge some passengers, he tries to find an opening in what he
supposes is a United States receptacle for letters. “Hold on, there,” exclaims
Chief Devine, “I have a key for that if you want to get into it.” It is a fire-
alarm box into which our brother is trying to insert his epistle. “Twenty-five
dollars fine for tampering with a fire alarm in this town,” says Brother
Maxwell, as the abashed victim of the mistake returns to the car. “Yer-hef-
ner bizness to monkey with it,” chided Brother Schuler; but the proper place
is soon found and the letter safely mailed.
We called on Jacob Moritz, president of the Utah Brewing Company, of
Salt Lake City, who showed us over his immense establishment and
entertained us in a very generous manner. During the conversation, Mr.
Moritz, while speaking about the decline of polygamy on account of the
vigorous enforcement of the law that forbids a plurality of wives, recited an
incident that came under his observation a short time since. An old Mormon
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