mail for those who lived along his route. She tore
the envelope open nervously and devoured its contents with hungry
eyes.
"My DEAR MOTHER,
"Here I am, in the shadow of the Rockies. That may sound poetical,
but it's a literal fact. It is still early in the evening, but the
sun has disappeared behind the great masses to the west, and the
valley which my window overlooks is filling up with blackness. The
Arthurses are pure gold, and I have told them everything. They don't
blame anyone, not even father. How is he? Slaving as usual, I
suppose.
"Well, I must tell you about my trip. When I left the house that
night I had no idea where I was going, but the simplest thing seemed
to be to go first to Plainville. The North Star led that way, and it
seemed a good guide to follow. As I walked the lights came out in the
Arctic sky--a great bow of them, swelling and fading in their
delicate tints. I watched them and plodded along, trying not to think
very much about anything.
"You've no idea how heavy that suit-case got, but I took my time, as
there was nothing to gain by reaching town before daylight. When I
got there it struck me it might be a good plan to have some
breakfast, so I walked round to Goode's boarding-house. Mrs. Goode
was bustling about, and received me with open arms. 'Well, my Land!
if it ain't Beulah Harris!' she exclaimed--she always called me
Beulah--'Goodness, child, what are you doing about this early in the
morning? But there, I needn't ask, knowin' what a worker your father
is. I'll be bound he drove you in before sunrise to lose no time with
his ploughin'. Well, that's what makes the mare go. I wish my man had
some of it--he's snorin' up on the second floor at this minute like
to lift the shingles. I often say to myself, 'For the little he does
and the lot he eats the Lord knows what keeps him so thin.' It's a
grievance of Mrs. Goode's that her husband won't fatten up; she
thinks it's a reflection on her cooking. 'And with your suit-case!
You'll be taking the train? West, is it, or East? But you'll be
hungry, child. Take off your things there while I see to my buns--I
always give the boarders hot buns for breakfast--' you know how she
rattles on. But she's a good soul, if a bit conceited over her
looking, and wouldn't take a cent for my keep either. Of course she
didn't wait for me to answer her questions, and she really suggested
the plan which I took. After breakfast I went over to the station,
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