k."

"Well, we've had lots of fun out of it all, you know," said Kate.
"Mrs. Matilda Pitman alone was worth it. She will be an amusing memory
all our lives. Are you sorry you came?"

"No, I'm not," I concluded, after honest, soul-searching reflection.
"No, I'm glad, Kate. But I think we were crazy to attempt it, as
Sergeant Baker said. Think of all the might-have-beens."

"Nothing else will happen," said Kate. "I feel in my bones that our
troubles are over."

Kate's bones proved true prophets. Nevertheless, that day was a weary
one. There was no scenery. We had got into a barren, lakeless,
treeless district where the world was one monotonous expanse of
grey-brown prairie. We just crawled along. Kate had her hands full
driving those ponies. Jerry was in capital fettle and couldn't
understand why he mightn't tear ahead at full speed. He was so much
disgusted over being compelled to walk that he was very fractious.
Poor Tom limped patiently along. But by night his lameness had quite
disappeared, and although we were still a good twenty-five miles from
Bothwell we could see it quite distinctly far ahead on the level
prairie.

"'Tis a sight for sore eyes, isn't it?" said Kate, as we pitched camp.

There is little more to be told. Next day at noon we rattled through
the main and only street of Bothwell. Curious sights are frequent in
prairie towns, so we did not attract much attention. When we drew up
before Mr. Taylor's house Mary Taylor flew out and embraced Kate
publicly.

"You darling! I knew you'd get here if anyone could. They telegraphed
us you were on the way. You're a brick--two bricks."

"No, I'm not a brick at all, Miss Taylor," I confessed frankly. "I've
been an arrant coward and a doubting Thomas and a wet blanket all
through the expedition. But Kate is a brick and a genius and an
all-round, jolly good fellow."

"Mary," said Kate in a tragic whisper,
"have--you--any--ham--in--the--house?"

Jessamine

When the vegetable-man knocked, Jessamine went to the door wearily.
She felt quite well acquainted with him. He had been coming all the
spring, and his cheery greeting always left a pleasant afterglow
behind him. But it was not the vegetable-man after all--at least, not
the right one. This one was considerably younger. He was tall and
sunburned, with a ruddy, smiling face, and keen, pleasant blue eyes;
and he had a spray of honeysuckle pinned on his coat.

"Want any garden stuff this morning?