her could stand it on a little piece
of land. He likes his big fields."

One night as we were sitting on William's porch, talking of war times
and of Hugh and Jane and Walter, a sweet and solemn mood came over us.
It seemed as if the spirits of the pioneers, the McClintocks and Dudleys
had been called back and were all about us. It seemed to me (as to my
mother) as if Luke or Leonard might at any moment emerge from the
odorous June dusk and speak to us. We spoke of David, and my mother's
love for him vibrated in her voice as she said, "I don't suppose I'll
ever see him again. He's too poor and too proud to come back here, and
I'm too old and lame and poor to visit him."

This produced in me a sudden and most audacious change of plan. "I'm not
so certain about that," I retorted. "Frank's company is going to play in
California this winter, and I am arranging a lecture tour--I've just
decided that you and father shall go along."

The boldness of my plan startled her. "Oh, we can't do a crazy thing
like that," she declared.

"It's not so crazy. Father has been talking for years of a visit to his
brother in Santa Barbara. Aunt Susan tells me she wants to spend one
more winter in California, and so I see no reason in the world why you
and father should not go. I'll pay for your tickets and Addison will be
glad to house you. We're going!" I asserted firmly. "We'll put off
buying our homestead till next year and make this the grandest trip of
your life."

Aunt Maria here put in a word, "You do just what Hamlin tells you to do.
If he wants to spend his money giving you a good time, you let him."

Mother smiled wistfully but incredulously. To her it all seemed as
remote, as improbable as a trip to Egypt, but I continued to talk of it
as settled and so did William and Maria.

I wrote at once to my father outlining my trip and pleading strongly for
his consent and co-operation. "All your life long you and mother have
toiled with hardly a day off. Your travelling has been mainly in a
covered wagon. You have seen nothing of cities for thirty years. Addison
wants you to spend the winter with him, and mother wants to see David
once more--why not go? Begin to plan right now and as soon as your crops
are harvested, meet me at Omaha or Kansas City and we'll all go along
together."

He replied with unexpected half-promise. "The crops look pretty well.
Unless something very destructive turns up I shall have a few dollars to
spend.