e, and an hour afterwards found it red-hot on the stove. Nothing
can be kept from him unless it is hidden in my room. He has eaten two
pounds of dried cherries from the shelf, half of my second four-pound
spice loaf before it was cold, licked up my custard sauce in the night,
and privately devoured the pudding which was to be for supper. He
confesses to it all, and says, "I suppose you think me a cure." Mr. K.
says that the first thing he said to him this morning was, "Will Miss
B. make us a nice pudding to-day?" This is all harmless, but the
plagiarism and want of honor are disgusting, and quite out of keeping
with his profession of being a theological student.

This life is in some respects like being on board ship--there are no
mails, and one knows nothing beyond one's little world, a very little
one in this case. We find each other true, and have learnt to esteem
and trust each other. I should, for instance, go out of this room
leaving this book open on the table, knowing that the men would not
read my letter. They are discreet, reticent, observant, and on many
subjects well informed, but they are of a type which has no antitype at
home. All women work in this region, so there is no fuss about my
working, or saying, "Oh, you mustn't do that," or "Oh, let me do that."

November 30.

We sat up till eleven last night, so confident were we that Edwards
would leave Denver the day after Thanksgiving and get up here. This
morning we came to the resolution that we must break up. Tea, coffee,
and sugar are done, the venison is turning sour, and the men have only
one month left for the hunting on which their winter living depends. I
cannot leave the Territory till I get money, but I can go to Longmount
for the mail and hear whether the panic is abating. Yesterday I was
alone all day, and after riding to the base of Long's Peak, made two
roly-poly puddings for supper, having nothing else. The men, however,
came back perfectly loaded with trout, and we had a feast. Epicures at
home would have envied us. Mr. Kavan kept the frying pan with boiling
butter on the stove, butter enough thoroughly to cover the trout,
rolled them in coarse corn meal, plunged them into the butter, turned
them once, and took them out, thoroughly done, fizzing, and lemon
colored. For once young Lyman was satisfied, for the dish was
replenished as often as it was emptied. They caught 40 lbs., and have
packed them in ice until they can