s baby to
such terrible risks, even to carry out the surprise she anticipated so
joyfully. From her aunt's house, in New York city, she had travelled by
steamer up the Hudson to Albany. From there she took cars to Buffalo,
and a lake boat to Cleveland. Now she was travelling by rail again,
across the flooded state of Ohio towards Cincinnati. There she intended
taking a steamboat down the Ohio River, and up the Mississippi to St.
Louis, where she expected to join her husband's friends, on the boat
that would carry them all to their journey's end.

The details of this plan were fully discussed by the occupants of the
adjoining seats in the car, and when it came time for the one who was
not going through to leave the train, and take another at a small
junction, she had become so greatly interested in her new acquaintance
that she begged the latter to write to her, and tell her how she got
along. She wrote her own name and address on a bit of paper, just before
leaving the car, and gave it to the soldier's wife; but, in her hurry,
neglected to make a note of the name given her in return, and
afterwards, when she tried to recall it, was unable to do so.

The tediousness of the weary day had been so much lessened by the making
of this pleasant acquaintance, that for some time after her departure
the young mother remained light-hearted and cheerful. The baby, too, was
bright and happy, and a source of constant amusement, not only to her,
but to all those about him.

After a while, though, when it grew dark, and the feeble candles were
lighted, and most of the passengers had left the car, and the baby at
first fretted and then screamed, refusing to be quieted for more than an
hour, the exhausted young mother grew nervous and frightened. Only the
thought of the glad meeting, and the great happiness awaiting her at the
end of this tedious journey, enabled her to bear it as bravely as she
did.

At length the babe cried himself to sleep, and the tired arms that had
held him so long gladly laid him down in a nest made of shawls and his
own dainty blanket on the opposite seat. This blanket had the initials
"G. E." embroidered in one corner, though these did not stand for the
baby's name. In fact, he had no first name, nor had he yet been
christened. This ceremony having been postponed until both the father
and mother could take part in it; the question of a name had also been
left undecided until then. The young mother wanted her