one trip. He set out
in July, and he rid right straight through to November, nigh onto every
day of his life. He got white, an' thin, an' narvous, from loss of
sleep an' lack of food, an' his pa got restless, said Henry was takin'
the 'lection more serious 'an he ever took the war. Last few days
before votin' was cold an' raw an' Henry rid constant. 'Lection day he
couldn't vote, for he lacked a year of bein' o' age, an' he rid in with
a hard chill, an' white as a ghost, an' he says: 'Ma,' says he, 'I've
'lected Grant, but I'm all tuckered out. Put me to bed an' kiver me
warm.'"

I forgot the sting in my eyes watching Mrs. Freshett. She was the
largest woman I knew, and strong as most men. Her hair was black and
glisteny, her eyes black, her cheeks red, her skin a clear, even dark
tint. She was handsome, she was honest, and she was in earnest over
everything. There was something about her, or her family, that had to
be told in whispers, and some of the neighbours would have nothing to
do with her. But mother said Mrs. Freshett was doing the very best she
knew, and for the sake of that, and of her children, anyone who
wouldn't help her was not a Christian, and not to be a Christian was
the very worst thing that could happen to you. I stared at her
steadily. She talked straight along, so rapidly you scarcely could
keep up with the words; you couldn't if you wanted to think about them
any between. There was not a quiver in her voice, but from her eyes
there rolled, steadily, the biggest, roundest tears I ever saw. They
ran down her cheeks, formed a stream in the first groove of her double
chin, overflowed it, and dripped drop, drop, a drop at a time, on the
breast of her stiffly starched calico dress, and from there shot to her
knees.

"'Twa'n't no time at all 'til he was chokin' an' burnin' red with
fever, an' his pa and me, stout as we be, couldn't hold him down nor
keep him kivered. He was speechifyin' to beat anythin' you ever heard.
His pa said he was repeatin' what he'd heard said by every big stump
speaker from Greeley to Logan. When he got so hoarse we couldn't tell
what he said any more, he jest mouthed it, an' at last he dropped back
and laid like he was pinned to the sheets, an' I thought he was
restin', but 'twa'n't an hour 'til he was gone."

Suddenly Mrs. Freshett lifted her apron, covered her face and sobbed
until her broad shoulders shook.

"Oh you poor soul!" said my mother. "I'm so