ect such a diary as this locked cell
of a book is becoming, but I can select what looks like data for the
young from these soul squirmings, and only let her have those for The
Five. I don't know which are which now, and I'll have to put down the
whole drama.

And my home-coming last night was a drama that had in it so much comedy,
dashed with tragedy, that I'm a little breathless over it yet. Jane, and
my mind is breathing unevenly still.

Considering the situation, and my intentions, I was a bit frightened as
the huge engine rattled and roared its way along the steel rails that
were leading me back, down into the Harpeth Valley. But, when we crossed
the Kentucky line, I forgot the horrors of my mission, and I thrilled
gloriously at getting hack to my hills. Old Harpeth had just come into
sight, as we rounded into the valley and Providence Knob rested back
against it, in a pink glow that I knew came from the honeysuckle in
bloom all over it like a mantle. I traveled fast into the twilight, and
I saw all the stars smile out over the ridge, in answer to the hearth
stars in the valley, before I got across Silver Creek. I hadn't let any
one know that I was coming, so I couldn't expect any one to meet me at
the station at Glendale. There was nobody there I belonged to--just an
empty house. I suppose a man coming home like that would have whistled
and held up his head, but I couldn't. I'm a woman.

Suddenly, that long glowworm of a train stopped just long enough at
Glendale to eject me and my five trunks, with such hurried emphasis that
I felt I was being planted in the valley forever, and I would have to
root myself here or die. I still feel that way.

And as I stood just where my feet were planted, in the dust of the road,
instead of on the little ten-foot platform, that didn't quite reach to
my sleeper steps, I felt as small as I really am in comparison to the
universe. I looked after the train and groveled.

Then, just as I was about to start running down the track, away from
nowhere and to nowhere, I was brought to my senses by a loud boohoo, and
then a snubby choke, which seemed to come out of my bag and
steamer-blanket that stood in a pile before me.

"Train's gone, train's gone and left us! I knew it would, when Sallie
stopped to put the starch on her face all over again. And Cousin James,
he's as slow as molasses, and I couldn't dress two twins in not time to
button one baby. Oh, damn, oh, damn!" And the sobs r