ountrymen generally are,
and that, of course, just suits me. I don't know
how long I shall be in reaching St. Joseph, but I
shall write you once or twice on the way. Give my
love to father, Sarah, Walter, and Harry, and keep
a great deal for yourself.
"Your loving son,
"TOM."

"Tom is growing manly, Mary," said Mark Nelson to his wife. "It's doing
him good to see a little of the world."

"I suppose it is, Mark," said his wife; "but the more I think of it the
more I feel that he is very young to undertake such a long journey
alone."

"He is young, but it will make a man of him."

"He must be having a tip-top time," said Walter; "I wish I were with
him."

"You would be more of a hindrance than a help to him, Walter," said Mark
Nelson.

"You are only a child, you know," said Sarah, in an elder-sister tone.

"What do you call yourself?" retorted Walter. "You are only two years
older than I am."

"Girls always know more than boys of the same age," said Sarah
condescendingly. "Besides, I haven't said anything about going out to
California."

"No, I should think not. A girl that's afraid of a mouse had better stay
at home."

Walter referred to an incident of the day previous, when the sudden
appearance of a mouse threw Sarah into a panic.

"Are there any mouses in California?" asked little Harry, with interest.

"If there are I could carry a cat with me," returned Sarah
good-humoredly.

Mark Nelson, though he felt Tom was a boy to be trusted, did ask himself
occasionally whether he had been wise in permitting him to leave home
under the circumstances. Suppose he continued in health, there were
doubts of his success. His golden dreams might not be realized. The two
hundred dollars which he had raised for Tom might be lost, and bring in
no return; and this would prove a serious loss to Mark, hampered as he
was already by a heavy mortgage on his farm. Would Squire Hudson be
forbearing, if ill-luck came? This was a question he could not answer.
He only knew that such was not the squire's reputation.

"Well, Mr. Nelson, what do you hear from Tom," asked the squire, one day
about this time. "How far is he on his way?"

"We received a letter from Cincinnati yesterday. He then was about
starting for St. Joseph."

"Does he seem to enjoy the journey?"

"He writes in excellent spirits.