intuitive knowledge that she was passing
through a cruel convulsion which could not be softened or put aside. I
went to sleep again at last, and when I woke, I had a little sister.

Harriet and I having been vaccinated, escaped with what was called the
"verylide" but father was ill for several weeks. Fortunately he was
spared, as we all were, the "pitting" which usually follows this dreaded
disease, and in a week or two we children had forgotten all about it.
Spring was upon us and the world was waiting to be explored.

One of the noblest features of this farm was a large spring which boiled
forth from the limestone rock about eighty rods north of the house, and
this was a wonder-spot to us. There was something magical in this
never-failing fountain, and we loved to play beside its waters. One of
our delightful tasks was riding the horses to water at this spring, and
I took many lessons in horsemanship on these trips.

As the seeding time came on, enormous flocks of pigeons, in clouds
which almost filled the sky, made it necessary for some one to sentinel
the new-sown grain, and although I was but nine years of age, my father
put a double-barrelled shotgun into my hands, and sent me out to defend
the fields.

This commission filled me with the spirit of the soldier. Proudly
walking my rounds I menaced the flocks as they circled warily over my
head, taking shot at them now and again as they came near enough,
feeling as duty bound and as martial as any Roman sentry standing guard
over a city. Up to this time I had not been allowed to carry arms,
although I had been the companion of Den Green and Ellis Usher on their
hunting expeditions in the coulee--now with entire discretion over my
weapon, I loaded it, capped it and fired it, marching with sedate and
manly tread, while little Frank at my heels, served as subordinate in
his turn.

The pigeons passed after a few days, but my warlike duties continued,
for the ground-squirrels, called "gophers" by the settlers, were almost
as destructive of the seed corn as the pigeons had been of the wheat.
Day after day I patrolled the edge of the field listening to the saucy
whistle of the striped little rascals, tracking them to their burrows
and shooting them as they lifted their heads above the ground. I had
moments of being sorry for them, but the sight of one digging up the
seed, silenced my complaining conscience and I continued to slay.

The school-house of this district st