So you will please add another day."

I amended the statement and he paid me the handsome sum of seven
dollars. I remember that after I went to my room that night I stitched
up the opening in my jacket pocket, which contained my wealth, with the
needle and thread which Aunt Deel had put in my bundle, and slept with
the jacket under my mattress.

The Senator and I were up at five o'clock and at work in the garden.
What a contrast to see him spading in his old farm suit! Mrs. Wright
cooked our breakfast and called us in at six.

I remember we were fixing the fence around his pasture lot that day when
a handsomely dressed gentleman came back in the field. Mr. Wright was
chopping at a small spruce.

"Is Senator Wright here?" the stranger inquired of me.

I pointed to the chopper.

"I beg your pardon--I am looking for the distinguished United States
Senator," he explained with a smile.

Again I pointed at the man with the ax and said:

"That is the Senator."

Often I have thought of the look of astonishment on the face of the
stranger as he said: "Will you have the kindness to tell him that
General Macomb would like to speak with him?"

I halted his ax and conveyed the message.

"Is this the hero of Plattsburg?" Mr. Wright asked.

"Well, I have been there," said the General.

They shook hands and went up to the house together.

I walked back to the hills that evening. There I found a letter from
Sally. She and her mother, who was in ill health, were spending the
summer with relatives at Portsmouth, New Hampshire. She wrote of riding
and fishing and sailing, but of all that she wrote I think only of these
words now:

"I meet many good-looking boys here, but none of them are like you.
I wonder if you remember what you said to me that day. If you want
to unsay it, you can do it by letter, you know. I think that would
be the best way to do it. So don't be afraid of hurting my
feelings. Perhaps I would be glad. You don't know. What a long day
that was! It seems as if it wasn't over yet. How lucky for me that
it was such a beautiful day! You know I have forgotten all about
the pain, but I laugh when I think how I looked and how Mr. Latour
looked. He laughed a good deal going home, as if thinking of some
wonderful joke. In September I am going away to a young ladies'
school in Albany. I hate it. Can you imagine why? I am to learn
fine manners and French