To let a little are into our cherch
(Pewer are is sertin proper for the pews);
And dew it week days and on Sundys tew--
It aint much trobble--only make a hoal,
And then the are will come in of itself
(It loves to come in where it can git warm).
And O how it will rouze the people up
And sperrit up the preacher, and stop garps
And yorns and fijits as effectool
As wind on the dry boans the Profit tels
Of.

I went as far as Omaha, and then was asked if I were not going West.
The reason for this charming reception was that it was a novelty then
to hear a young woman talk in a lively way on striking themes which
had been most carefully prepared, and a light touch added, with
frequent glints of humour. Byron declared that easy writing was very
hard reading. I reversed that method, always working hard over each
lecture. For instance, I spent two months in preparing "Bachelor
Authors," cramming and condensing, and passing quickly over dangerous
ground. With my vocal training I could easily be heard by an audience
of five hundred.

A friend was eager to go to Alaska by Seattle; then, after our return,
visit Yellowstone Park and San Francisco. She urged me so eloquently
to accompany her, that I left my home in Metcalf, Massachusetts,
taking great risks in many ways, but wonderful to relate, nothing
disastrous occurred.

We scurried by fastest trains across the country to Seattle, just in
time to take the Steamer _Topeka_ from Seattle on August 8, 1899, the
last boat of the season, and the last chance tourists ever had to see
the Muir Glacier in its marvellous glory, as it was broken badly
before the next summer.

My friend advised me kindly to ask no questions of the captain, as she
knew well what a bore that was. I promised to be exceedingly careful.
So, next morning, when that tall and handsome Captain Thompson came
around the deck, with a smiling "Good morning," and bowing right and
left, I was deeply absorbed in a book; the next time I was looking at
a view; another time I played I was fast asleep. He never spoke to me,
only stopped an instant before me and walked on. At last, a bow-legged
pilot came directly from the captain's office to my open window,
bringing to Miss Sanborn a bowl of extra large and luscious
strawberries from Douglas Island, quite famous on account of the size
and sweetness of this berry. With this gift came a note running thus:

DEAR M