y miserable, and weak, and hungry, one by one the five
suffering but penitent mice sought and found a shelter for the night in
a hollow tree, the bottom of which was full of dry leaves, and as warm
as an oven.

[Illustration: "No room for Jealousy."]

They found a delightful old farmhouse the next day, and, living in one
of the sweet-scented hayricks for a time, until they could find out
about the kitchen and the cook, this now happy and loving family learnt
to think gratefully of that otherwise dreadful day when, adrift on the
river floods, they had bidden good-bye for ever to Jealousy,
Covetousness, and Spite.

MARVELS OF MAN'S MAKING.

XI.--A COLORADO RAILWAY.

[Illustration]

They called it the 'baby road,' when the first rails were laid near
Denver City, the capital of Colorado, in the spring of 1871; and every
one agreed it was a brave baby that could start upon such a wild
journey. Over the lonely, snow-topped mountains, through the gloomiest
gorges the route would lie. Here the whistle of the engine would be
answered by the cry of the condor, or deep in the lonely pine forest
would startle some ambling grizzly bear. It was in the days when the
settler was still subject to attacks by marauding Indians, and
civilisation had only a slight foothold among the savage byways of
Colorado.

The 'baby road' was started under the guidance of a party of wealthy men
from Philadelphia, and the first steps were quite easy. Denver City lies
on flat ground at the foot of a long range of majestic mountains. Along
the side of these the line was laid, past Pike's Peak, which rises from
the plain to a height of fourteen thousand one hundred and forty-seven
feet, and on to the city of Pueblo. Here the road turns westward, along
the side of the Arkansas River, and a few minutes later disappears into
the shadows of a mighty gorge through which the river flows. And here
the troubles of the engineer began. From the sides of the stream the
granite walls of the canon, or gorge, rise perpendicularly for three
thousand feet. Nearly the whole of the space between the base of these
cliffs is taken up by the river itself, though for several miles a
sufficiently wide ledge was found to lay the rails upon, just out of
reach of the roaring torrent of water. But, by-and-by, a point was
gained where the 'ledge' suddenly ended, and for some hundreds of yards
the River Arkansas took up the whole space.

Then the engineer had to thin