of the first day if I could; the thirteen hours--during which we made
twenty-six miles--seemed thirteen eons, and I fell into the feather-bed
at the stopover place that first night hat, dress, shoes and all.
Yesterday, having bought two pillows to sit on, I found the jolting more
endurable, and was able to see some of the beauty through which we were
passing. There is no level land, nothing but creeks and mountains, the
latter steep, though not very high, and covered mostly with virgin
forest, though here and there a cornfield runs half-way up, and a lonely
log house nestles at the base. There were looms and spinning-wheels in
the porches of these homes, and always numbers of children ran out to
see us pass. Just at noon we turned into Perilous Creek, the one the
school is on. Here the bed was unusually wide and smooth, and I was
enjoying the respite from racking and jolting, when Howard said with an
anxious brow, "All these nice smooth places is liable to be
quicksands,--last time I come over, it took four ox-teams to pull my
span and wagon out. That's how it gets its name,--Perilous."

We escaped the quicks, thank heaven, and just at dark the welcome lights
of the school shone out in the narrow valley. I was relieved to find I
should be expected to remain in bed to-day.

Racked muscles, black-and-blue spots, and dislocated bones are not
exactly pleasant; but physical pain is an actual relief after endless
ache of heart and suffering of spirit.

A pretty, brown-eyed boy just brought in a pitcher of water, asked me if
I came from the "level country" and how many times I had "rid" on the
railroad train; and gave me the information that he was Philip Sidney
Floyd, that his "paw" got his name out of a book, that his "maw" was
dead, that he was "very nigh thirteen," and had worked for "the women"
all summer.

II

GETTING ACQUAINTED

_Monday Night._

Early this morning I was taken around by Philip and a smaller boy named
Geordie to see the buildings,--handsome ones of logs, set in a narrow
strip of bottom land along Perilous Creek. The "big house" especially, a
great log structure of two-dozen rooms, where the settlement work goes
on, and the teachers and girls live, is the most satisfying building I
ever saw. There are also a good workshop, a pretty loom-house, and a
small hospital, and the last shingles are being nailed on the large new
school-house. When I asked the boys why any school-term should b