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And yet I see it snow up in the Mountains every single day, more or less. The sunset scene last night was most lovely. You recollect that one when we were at the mouth of the river where the little steamboat took a load off the Lady Elgin, where Josephine took a fish on my hook. Well that was splendid; so was the one last night. There is one glory of the sun- another of the moon, another of the stars- but one star different from another star in glory. That Lake Superior sunset was as the faintest glimmering star glory compared to the sunset of last night. Such colors I never saw before in earth or heaven; and one combination there was to which the nearest approach is the color of the ink you use- only behind it seemed to be a white light. But pen, nor brush could