d to my needs in the miserable toilet-room of
the car (no sleeper--just a sit-up-all-night affair), my clean stockings,
white apron and little handkerchief all exhaled vinegar so strongly that
I wrinkled up my nose, exclaiming: "I smell jes' like a pickled little
girl--don't I, ma'ma?" And then, when weary and worn and dusty, we left
the cars and had to drive some thirty miles, in a carriage of uncertain
class, over the open prairie--then smooth and bright and green--I wearily
remarked, after a time, that it was a "pretty big lawn, but where was the
prairie?" for true to my plan I had secured the umbrella, and being told
that I was crossing the prairie then, I was a bitterly disappointed young
person. Oh, how I longed to give way to one of those passionate outbursts
we so often see children indulge in! Oh, how I wanted to hurl aside the
umbrella I had begged for, to fling my weary self down on the floor and
cry, and cry! But I dared not--never in my whole life had I ventured on
such an exhibition of temper or feeling--so I winked fast and held very
still and swallowed hard at the disappointment, which was but the first
of such a number of very bitter pills that I was yet to swallow.

But, thank God! if I was easily cast down, I was as easily cheered; and
the prairie left behind, the sight of the first orchard we passed, with
the soft perfumed snow of the blossoms floating through the rosy sunset
light, raised my spirits to an ecstasy of joy; and when our journey
ended, at the rough farm-house, with my arm around the surly looking
watch-dog, I stood and heard for the first time the mournful cry of the
whippoorwill out in the star-pierced dark of the early May night, I
thrilled with the unspoken consciousness that this was a new world that I
was entering--a lovely, _lovely_ world, that the grown-ups called the
"country"!

For the two years I knew it the charm of that backwood life never palled.
I had never seen the country before, and I found it a place of beauty and
many marvels. I did not miss the fine city shops, for I never had had
money to spend in them. I did not miss the people, for they had been
nothing to me. And here no day that dawned failed to bring me some new
experience. With what awed wonderment I faced the mystery of the
springing grain. I saw the seed, hard and dry, fall into the furrowed
earth and, a few days later, with gentle strength, tiny pale green spears
come pricking through the brown. I learned n