cle. The
other man was middle-aged, dark, silent-looking, and, I decided, rather
like a king. We all rode in silence for a while, but by and by the old
man said kindly:

"Where are you going, my child?"

I told him.

"And whose daughter are you?" he inquired. I told him that with pride.
"I know people all through the state," he said, "but I don't seem to
remember that name."

"Don't you remember my father, sir?" I cried, anxiously, edging up
closer to him. "Not that great and good man! Why, Abraham Lincoln and my
father are the greatest men that ever lived!"

His head nodded strangely, as he lifted it and looked at me with his
laughing eye.

"It's a pity I don't know him, that being the case," he said gently.
"But, anyway, you're a lucky little girl."

"Yes," I sighed, "I am, indeed."

But my attention was taken by our approach to what I recognised as an
"estate." A great gate with high posts, flat on top, met my gaze, and
through this gateway I could see a drive and many beautiful trees. A
little boy was sitting on top of one of the posts, watching us, and I
thought I never had seen a place better adapted to viewing the passing
procession. I longed to be on the other gatepost, exchanging confidences
across the harmless gulf with this nice-looking boy, when, most
unexpectedly, the horses began to plunge. The next second the air was
filled with buzzing black objects.

"Bees!" said the king. It was the first word he had spoken, and a true
word it was. Swarming bees had settled in the road, and we had driven
unaware into the midst of them. The horses were distracted, and made
blindly for the gate, though they seemed much more likely to run into
the posts than to get through the gate, I thought. The boy seemed to
think this, too, for he shot backward, turned a somersault in the air,
and disappeared from view.

"God bless me!" said the king.

The heavy young man on the front seat jumped from his place and began
beating away the bees and holding the horses by the bridles, and in a
few minutes we were on our way. The horses had been badly stung, and the
heavy young man looked rather bumpy. As for us, the king had shut the
stage door at the first approach of trouble, and we were unharmed.

After this, we all felt quite well acquainted, and the old gentleman
told me some wonderful stories about going about among the Indians and
about the men in the lumber camps and the settlers on the lake islands.
Afterward I l