nding at Redwing, for at this
point the legendary appeal made itself felt. This lovely valley had once
been the home of a chieftain, and his body, together with that of his
favorite warhorse, was buried on the summit of a hill which overlooks
the river, "in order" (so runs the legend) "that the chief might see the
first faint glow of the resurrection morn and ride to meet it."

In truth Redwing was a quiet, excessively practical little town, quite
commonplace to every other passenger, except myself. My excited
imagination translated it into something very distinctive and far-off
and shining.

I took lodgings that night at a very exclusive boarding house at six
dollars per week, reckless of the effect on my very slender purse. For a
few days I permitted myself to wander and to dream. I have disturbing
recollections of writing my friends from this little town, letters
wherein I rhapsodized on the beauty of the scenery in terms which I
would not now use in describing the Grand Canyon, or in picturing the
peaks of Wyoming. After all I was right. A landscape is precisely as
great as the impression it makes upon the perceiving mind. I was a
traveller at last!--that seemed to be my chiefest joy and I extracted
from each day all the ecstasy it contained.

My avowed object was to obtain a school and I did not entirely neglect
my plans but application to the county superintendent came to nothing. I
fear I was half-hearted in my campaign.

At last, at the beginning of the week and at the end of my money, I
bought passage to Wabasha and from there took train to a small town
where some of my mother's cousins lived. I had been in correspondence
with one of them, a Mrs. Harris, and I landed at her door (after a
glorious ride up through the hills, amid the most gorgeous autumn
colors) with just three cents in my pocket--a poverty which you may be
sure I did not publish to my relations who treated me with high respect
and manifested keen interest in all my plans.

As nothing offered in the township round about the Harris home, I
started one Saturday morning to walk to a little cross-roads village
some twenty miles away, in which I was told a teacher was required. My
cousins, not knowing that I was penniless, supposed, of course, that I
would go by train, and I was too proud to tell them the truth. It was
very muddy, and when I reached the home of the committeeman his mid-day
meal was over, and his wife did not ask if I had dined--a