gazed on
the quite unconscious giant as wonderingly as did Nan herself.

"Uncle Henry," she asked him once, "are all the men in the Big Woods as
tall as you are?"

"Goodness me! No, child," he chuckled. "But the woods don't breed many
runts, that's a fact. There's some bigger than I. Long Sam Dorgan is
near seven feet he isn't quite sure, for he's so ticklish that you can't
ever measure him," and Uncle Henry's chuckle burst into a full-fledged
laugh. "He's just as graceful as a length of shingle lathing, too. And
freckles and liver spots on his hands and face, well, he certain sure is
a handsome creature.

"He went to town once and stayed over night. Wasn't any bed long enough
at the hotel, and Sam had got considerably under the weather, anyhow,
from fooling with hard cider. So he wasn't particular about where he
bedded down, and they put him to sleep in the horse trough."

"The horse trough!" gasped Nan.

"Yes. It was pretty dry when Sam went to bed; but right early in the
morning a sleepy hostler stumbled out to the trough and began to pump
water into it for the cattle. Maybe Long Sam needed a bath, but not just
that way. He rose up with a yell like a Choctaw Indian. Said he was
just dreaming of going through the Sault Ste. Marie in a barrel, and he
reckoned the barrel burst open."

Nan was much amused by this story, as she was by others that the old
lumberman related. He was full of dry sayings and his speech had many
queer twists to it. His bluff, honest way delighted the girl, although
he was so different from Papa Sherwood. As Momsey had said, Uncle
Henry's body had to be big to contain his heart. One can excuse much
that is rough in a character so lovable as that of Uncle Henry's.

The snow increased as the train sped on and the darkness gradually
thickened. Uncle Henry took his niece into the dining car where they
had supper, with a black man with shiny eyes and very white teeth, who
seemed always on the broad grin, to wait upon them. Nan made a mental
note to write Bess Harley all about the meal and the service, for Bess
was always interested in anything that seemed "aristocratic," and to the
unsophisticated girl from Tillbury the style of the dining car seemed
really luxurious.

When the train rolled into the Chicago station it was not yet late;
but it seemed to Nan as though they had ridden miles and miles, through
lighted streets hedged on either side with brick houses. The snow was
still falling,