ave the appearance of being at
least six inches too short. Although Bishey is tall and thin, his coat
was two sizes too small, his shirt was of soft tan material, and he
wore a blue tie. But whatever may have been amiss with his costume was
easily forgotten when one saw his radiant face. He grasped my hand and
wrung it as if it was a chicken's neck.

"What in the world is the matter with you?" I asked, as I rubbed my
abused paw. "Just you come here and I'll tell you," he answered. There
was no one to hear but the kiddies, but I went around the corner of the
house with him. He put his hand up to his mouth and whispered that
"Miss Em'ly" was coming, would be there on the afternoon stage. I had
never heard of "Miss Em'ly," and said so. "Well, just you go in and
set on the sofy and soon's I see your horses took care of I'll come in
and tell you." I went into my own room, and after I rustled some water
I made myself and the kiddies a little more presentable. Then we went
into the sitting-room and sat on the "sofy." Presently Bishey sauntered
in, trying to look unconcerned and at ease, but he was so fidgety he
couldn't sit down. But he told his story, and a dear one it is.

It seems that back in New York State he and Miss Em'ly were "young uns"
together. When they were older they planned to marry, but neither
wanted to settle down to the humdrumness that they had always known.
Both dreamed of the golden West; so Bishey had gone to blaze the trail,
and "Miss Em'ly" was to follow. First one duty and then another had
held her, until twenty-five years had slipped by and they had not seen
each other, but now she was coming, that very day. They would be
married that evening, and I at once appointed myself matron of honor
and was plumb glad there was no other candidate.

I at once took the decorations in hand. Bishey, Jerrine, and myself
went out and gathered armfuls of asters and goldenrod-like
rabbit-brush. From the dump-pile we sorted cans and pails that would
hold water, and we made the sitting-room a perfect bower of purple and
gold beauty. I put on my last clean shirt-waist and the children's last
clean dresses. Then, as there seemed nothing more to do, Bishey
suggested that we walk up the road and meet the stage; but the day had
been warm, and I remembered my own appearance when I had come over that
same road the first time. I knew that journey was trying on any one's
appearance at any time of the year, and after twenty-fiv