py fields and pine-odoured
hamlets. The first day of their walk was rainy, and they went up a
toteway into thick timber and built a fire and kept dry and warm
until the rain ceased. That evening they fell in with emigrants on
their way to the far west.

The latter were camped on the edge of a wood, near the roadway, and
cooking supper as the two came along. Being far from a town, Trove
and Tilly were glad to accept the hospitality of the travellers.

They had come to the great highway of travel from east to west.
Every day it was cut by wagons of the mover overloaded with Lares
and Penates, with old and young, enduring hardships and the loss of
home and old acquaintance for hope of better fortune.

A man and wife and three boys were the party, travelling with two
wagons. They were bound for Iowa and, being heavy loaded, were
having a hard time. All sat on a heap of boughs in the firelight
after supper.

"It's a long, long road to Iowa, father," said the woman.

"It'll soon be over," said he, with a tone of encouragement.

"I've been thinking all day of the lilacs and the old house," said
she.

They looked in silence at the fire a moment.

"We're a bit homesick," said the man, turning to Trove, "an' no
wonder. It's been hard travelling, an' we've broke down every few
miles. But we'll have better luck the rest o' the journey."

Evidently his cheerful courage had been all that kept them going.

"Lost all we had in the great fire of '35," said he, thoughtfully.
"I went to bed a rich man, but when I rose in the morning I had not
enough to pay a week's board. Everything had been swept away."

"A merchant?" Trove inquired.

"A partner in the great Star Mill on East River," said the man. "I
could have got a fortune for my share--at least a hundred thousand
dollars--and I had worked hard for it."

"And were you not able to succeed again?"

"No," said the traveller, sadly, shaking his head. "If some time
you have to lose all you possess. God grant you still have youth
and a strong arm. I tried--that is all--I tried."

The boy looked up at him, his heart touched. The man was near
sixty years of age; his face had deep lines in it; his voice the
dull ring of loss, and failure, and small hope. The woman covered
her face and began to sob.

"There, mother," said the man, touching her head; "we'd better
forget. I'll never speak of that again--never. We're going to
seek our fortune. Away in the great