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 The Moving-in. 
 
BILLOW PRAIRIE 
 
 BY 
 
 JOY ALLISON^^p^^a, 
 
 »C-ree(r>"^> Aif^re^ n 
 
 BOSTON AND CHICAGO : 
 Confiregational ^unUag^Scfjool anti IPuljUsfjing 5ocietg« 
 
c?SB 6' 
 
 Copyright, 1892, by 
 Congregational Sunday-School and Publishing Society. 
 
 
 • • •••• ••••« 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAOS 
 
 I. The Settlers 1 
 
 II. The Leaky Roof 12 
 
 III. The Snow-storm 27 
 
 IV. A Sunday-school Man 39 
 
 V. Sunday Work 52 
 
 VI. Convalescence 62 
 
 VII. Death 67 
 
 VIII. Marvel's Change 80 
 
 IX. A Garden 93 
 
 X. An Old Acquaintance 104 
 
 XI. New-comers 110 
 
 XII. Getting Ready for Meeting 124 
 
 XIII. The First Sunday-school 135 
 
 XIV. A Refusal 145 
 
 XV. Schooling 153 
 
 XVI. Dio's Offer 163 
 
 XVII. Shopping 177 
 
 XVIII. Earning Money 184 
 
 XIX. A New Suit of Clothes 194 
 
 XX. Overworked 200 
 
 XXI. The Blizzard 210 
 
 XXII. The Invalid 230 
 
 ui 
 
 ivil05416 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAaE 
 
 XXIII. A Team 235 
 
 XXIV. New Plans 245 
 
 XXV. Improvements 257 
 
 XXVI. The Look-out Committee 265 
 
 XXVII. The New House 280 
 
 XXVIII. A New Man 290 
 
 XXIX. Impkovement 299 
 
 XXX. A Pkodigal 305 
 
 XXXI. Soldiers of the Cross 332 
 
 XXXII. A Faithful Private 341 
 
 XXXIII. Last Words 360 
 
BILLOW PRAIRIE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE SETTLERS. 
 
 The sun was setting on Billow Prairie. His 
 last rays fell upon the dingy cover of a dilapi- 
 dated emigrant wagon, just as it came to a full 
 stop before the door of a small log house. The 
 horses, an ill-matched pair, one large, gaunt, and 
 old, the other diminutive, bony, but tough and 
 wiry, and evidently good for the best half of the 
 load, were alike weary, and glad to be free of the 
 harness, and permitted to browse upon the grass, 
 which, though brown and dry with the frosts of 
 late autumn, still retained some nutritive prop- 
 erties. 
 
 The wagon had scarcely stopped, before half a 
 dozen children swarmed out of it, climbing over 
 the wheels, eager to get upon their feet, and see 
 the new home to which they had been looking 
 
 1 
 
2 BILLOW PUAIBIE. 
 
 forward during their slow, toilsome journey. 
 They were active, vigorous children. The young- 
 est, that could barely walk, scarcely cared to 
 accept from the slouchy, cadaverous little man 
 whom they called "pa" the assistance he offered. 
 The wife and mother was not so independent of 
 help. She first gave into the man's arms a very 
 small, soft bundle that she had been carrying, 
 and then, leaning her hand on his shoulder, clam- 
 bered out. 
 
 "Wall! here we are, safe and sound, Marthy! 
 'T ain't quite a palace, is it? "said the man, glan- 
 cing over the dilapidated little cabin, and laughing 
 uneasily. "But don't you go to gettin' down- 
 spirited. It 's a shelter till we can do better, and 
 that 's all. As John Faxon said, I can chink it 
 up so it '11 do us for the winter." 
 
 "Pa, O pa! we 've found a well!" shouted 
 Marvel, a tall boy of fifteen, sallow and untidy, 
 after the type of his father. "But the water 's 
 no good," he added. "There 's a dead rabbit in 
 it." 
 
 Felix Windom turned his one eye — some 
 accident had deprived him of the other years 
 before — upon his eldest with a frowning gaze. 
 
THE SETTLERS. 3 
 
 "Get it out! Get it out — short meter! Don't 
 stand there gawping, you numb " — 
 
 "Don't call the boy names, Felix," interrupted 
 his wife. "I don't like it." 
 
 "Can't help it. That Marv has such a stupid 
 way of standin' with his mouth wide open after 
 he has told a thing." 
 
 There was a sad, hopeless look on the wife's 
 face as her eyes followed the retreating form of 
 her boy, and she sighed deeply. 
 
 "Just see what a hole there is in the roof!" 
 said she, as they stepped in at the door of the 
 poor cabin. She looked round in vain for a seat; 
 for she was pale and weak, and the weight of her 
 three weeks babe was no slight tax upon her 
 strength. 
 
 "Wall, as I was sayin', a few strips of bark 
 will stop the holes, and keep out the wet. So 
 don't you go to worryin'. We '11 have it all 
 metamorphosed in no time." 
 
 "Who 's been worrying?" said Martha plain- 
 tively. "I 'm sure I have n't said a word any- 
 body could take for complaining. I say now, as 
 I 've said many a time, I don't care where it is, 
 nor what it 's like,. if it 's only a home, and it 's 
 
4 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 ours, so nobody '11 get it away from us. What I 
 want, and have wanted for years, is a place of our 
 own, where if we set out trees and flowers, and 
 tend 'em, we shall get the good of 'em, and not 
 have to go right off somewhere else, and leave 'em 
 to other folks. I 've moved hither and yon till 
 I 'm tired of it. I 've been pulled up by the 
 roots, as it were, and set down in a new place 
 times enough to last a lifetime; and now, if we 
 really have got to a place where we can stay, 
 I '11 be a contented woman. But do get me a 
 chair, Felix. My back is fit to break, standing 
 up with this baby. And then get the things out 
 of the wagon as fast as you can, and get them in 
 here. It '11 be dark soon, and Ryder '11 be in for 
 his supper." 
 
 Ryder was the driver and owner of the team 
 that had conveyed the family hither, for Felix 
 Windom owned very little besides the wife and 
 seven children he had brought to this home upon 
 the prairie. 
 
 Obedient to his wife's request, he brought her 
 a chair. Then lifting up his voice he summoned 
 to his help the boys and girls who had scattered 
 to spy out whatever there might be of promise 
 about the place. 
 
THE SETTLERS. 6 
 
 "Here, Marvel! take in the cradle. Put a 
 piller in it so your ma can lay the baby down. 
 Lavinie, here 's a quilt; you can carry that. 
 Diodema, you may carry in these chairs, as soon 
 as I 've untied the ropes. They 've pulled and 
 jolted till they 're in the tightest kind of knots; 
 but 't won't do to cut them, for this rope belongs 
 to the bed." 
 
 Every child was soon busy carrying and be- 
 stowing in the cabin the few poor articles of 
 furniture they had been able to bring. The bed- 
 stead was set up in one corner, corded with the 
 rope that had bound the chairs to the outside of 
 the wagon, and made the receptacle of everything 
 in the shape of bedding or clothing. The stove 
 was set back into the wide stone fireplace. There 
 was no need of any of that patience-trying work 
 of fitting joints of stove-pipe, for they had but 
 one short piece, which they pushed up into the 
 rude chimney. But the draught proved perfect, 
 and a fire was quickly burning. 
 
 " Now, water for the tea-kettle," said the mother, 
 who had been busy directing and helping, till a 
 crimson spot shone in the center of each cheek, — 
 an indication of extreme fatigue. 
 
6 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "That water 's no good! We can't drink it! " 
 said Dean, twin brother to Diodema, though so 
 small that he would easily pass for eight or nine 
 years old, while she would receive full credit for 
 her twelve or thirteen years. Having little else 
 to bestow upon his children, Felix Windom had 
 given to each what he considered "a fine, high- 
 sounding name." After Marvel, Dean, and Dio- 
 dema, came Rudolph, nine years old, Lavinia 
 seven, and Carlotta three. No name had yet been 
 found fine enough for the new baby. 
 
 "I guess the water is good enough. There 's 
 nothing in it now, is there ? " said their father. 
 
 "No; we took the rabbit out, but " — 
 
 "Then it 's all right. Good enough! " was the 
 paternal fiat. He started for the well, followed 
 by all the children; while Martha, weary to the 
 last degree, and sick at heart, leaned her head 
 against the bedside and waited. 
 
 "I can't drink that! " said Diodema positively, 
 making a wry face as she bent over and looked 
 into the well. 
 
 "Diodema, just you go in and help your ma. 
 I '11 'tend to the water," said her father. But 
 Diodema did not seem greatly to fear his displeas- 
 
THE SETTLERS. 1 
 
 ure, for she still lingered to hear what the driver 
 would say as he came up to the well. 
 
 "Water bad, is it?" said he, looking down. 
 "Faugh! my horses would n't drink that! Lucky 
 I watered them at the last crossing. That well 
 has got to be cleaned out before anybody can 
 drink the water. Give me a bucket, and me and 
 Marv will go to the neighbors and fetch some. 
 'T ain't more than a mile, I reckon, and I 'm as 
 dry as a fish." 
 
 It proved something less than a mile. While 
 they were gone the cabin was further set in order, 
 and the table, a rude, home-made affair that had 
 been knocked to pieces for convenience of trans- 
 portation, was knocked together again, and set 
 upon its legs, and dishes spread upon it for 
 supper. When this was done, the cabin began to 
 seem a little like a home. 
 
 "Have you seen the Book, Felix?" asked 
 Martha, still busy searching in sundry boxes and 
 barrels. 
 
 " No, not as I know of. Children, did n't none 
 of you see the Book nowhere ? " 
 
 " I saw ma tuck it into the comer of the little 
 blue chest last night," said Lavinia. 
 
8 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "I 've looked there," said the mother, turning 
 her troubled eyes from one face to another, in the 
 hope that some one of her little flock would be 
 able to tell her where to find the missing volume. 
 
 "Never mind, Marthy," said her husband. 
 "It 's somewhere, and it 's bound to turn up 
 some time or other. Here 's the boys. Now let *s 
 have supper." 
 
 The boys came in, filling up the small room 
 so that there was scarcely space to move about. 
 They were all hungry, and it was hard to make 
 them wait patiently till the kettle boiled, and the 
 Indian meal could be made into a hasty pudding, 
 or mush as they called it. When at last it was 
 ready they gathered closely around the small table, 
 and fell to eating without ceremony. 
 
 But Martha did not sit down to eat, for two 
 reasons. The presence of the driver made the 
 table so full that there was no room for another, 
 and her mind was disturbed by the loss of the 
 Book. As soon as the rest were fairly seated, she 
 went on with her search in every box and basket, 
 and even turned over the bedding, and went out 
 to search the empty wagon, but all in vain. 
 
 "I would n't keep a fussin' about that Book, 
 
THE SETTLERS. \) 
 
 if I was you, Marthy," said her husband, who, 
 having satisfied the cravings of his own hunger, 
 awoke at last to the realization that his wife had 
 had no supper. "Here, sit in my place. I 'm 
 done! These cubs '11 eat everything before 'em, 
 and you won't get a mouthful 'less you go in for 
 your share while it 's a-goin'." 
 
 "I don't care," said Martha. "I don't want 
 any supper. I don't see where that Book can 
 be. I have n't missed a reading since I promised 
 Granny when she lay a-dying. She said, 'Read 
 if you can't pray,' and she made me lay my hand 
 on the Book and promise I would; and I 've done 
 it till now every night soon as supper was over, 
 and now whatever am I a-going to do ? " 
 
 Her tone was despondent. It was plain that 
 she was deeply troubled. 
 
 " Here 's a leaf got tore out of my old Testa- 
 ment and wrapped round some marigold seeds," 
 said Diode ma. "You might read off 'n that to- 
 night, and likely the Book '11 turn up to-morrow." 
 
 "Did you bring the rest of your Testament?" 
 inquired her mother, taking the leaf and looking 
 it over. 
 
 " No ; I thought 't was no use. It was all torn 
 
10 BILLOW PRAIlilE. 
 
 to pieces. The baby chewed off the corners, and 
 tore half the leaves out, — not the new baby, — 
 Lottie, I mean." 
 
 The driver rose from the table, stretched him- 
 self, yawned, and sauntered out to the vicinity of 
 his wagon; and Martha, fearing lest her family 
 would become scattered before the reading was 
 accomplished, began at once. 
 
 The leaf contained the latter half of the seventh 
 chapter of Romans, the whole of the eighth, and 
 a small portion of the ninth. Martha was but a 
 slow reader. Her husband held himself in no wise 
 bound by this promise of hers, but he humored 
 her in its performance ; and sometimes, when she 
 stumbled badly in the reading, would take the 
 Book and read himself. He was not the best of 
 readers. His pronunciation of some words would 
 have drawn a smile from cultivated hearers, but 
 he had abundant confidence in his own ability. 
 He had once, for a little time, taught school ; and 
 the glory and dignity of a schoolmaster had 
 invested him ever since, in his own eyes and those 
 of his family, who easily forgot that he was set 
 aside as incompetent, after the district had suffered 
 under him a part of one winter. As one means of 
 
THE SETTLERS. 11 
 
 maintaining his position as a man of learning in 
 the eyes of his little world, he read the news- 
 papers, when he could obtain them, and gave his 
 opinions on matters in strong, confident language. 
 
 Romans was hard reading for Martha, and she 
 stumbled along painfully, making little sense of 
 the verses. So he once more took the business 
 into his own hands, and read to the end of the 
 chapter. 
 
 It is doubtful whether any of the family under- 
 stood much of what was read. They looked upon 
 it as a ceremony to be gone through. What it 
 was all about they scarcely thought. And yet I 
 think it was not useless. At the very least it 
 was to them a daily reminder of the existence of 
 God, and that they owed some duty to Him ; and, 
 having taken this one step in its performance, they 
 would be more likely to take the next. " The 
 entrance of Thy Word giveth light ; " and no one 
 who continually turns his face toward the light, 
 however blindly and unintelligently, will fail of 
 getting good at last. 
 
12 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE LEAKY ROOF. 
 
 "It will storm to-morrow, Felix," said Martha, 
 one morning about ten days after the arrival. 
 
 "You 've prophesied a storm so many times 
 when there hain't none come, that I 'm kind o' 
 dubyous whether or no prophesyin' is your gift," 
 said Felix, his sallow visage relaxing into a smile. 
 "It does look like it this time, though, and 
 it stands to reason this soft weather can't last 
 always." 
 
 " Then won't you patch the roof to-day ? What 
 Dean has done would n't stand any kind of a 
 storm, though he tried the best he could, poor lad! 
 The wind would take his sticks and grass off in 
 no time." 
 
 " They 're pretty big sticks ! Marv helped me 
 .get 'em up there," said Dean. "But maybe pa 
 better fix it some more. Maybe the rain would 
 get in, and that would be bad for ma and the 
 baby." 
 
THE LEAKY HOOF. 13 
 
 "Trust Dean to look out for ma and the baby," 
 said Felix. "They 'd be bad off without you, 
 wouldn't they?" 
 
 "Ma is n't very well, and the baby is so little," 
 said the boy apologetically. 
 
 "That 's so! Wall, I '11 go down to the creek 
 and see what I can find. I reckon some strips of 
 bark, and a few poles to bind 'em down, will be 
 about the thing. Some day we '11 have a shingled 
 roof, tight and snug. I heerd there was a saw- 
 mill a piece down the creek, and I 'm going down 
 and try for a job. I '11 take my pay in shingles. 
 Hey, Marthy? How 's that for a plan?" 
 
 Martha smiled faintly. She did not seem much 
 elated. Her comforts were always to come " some 
 day." 
 
 "You 'd better take Marvel with you to help 
 fetch the poles," she said. 
 
 " May I go too ? O pa, say, may I ? " said 
 Dean, pressing forward with eager eyes. 
 
 " No. You 'd get tired, and ma wants you to 
 help her and keep her spirits up. And see you 
 get that roof all cleared, ready against I get home 
 with the other fixin's." 
 
 "I 'm a-going!" said Diodema with decision. 
 
14 BILLOW PRAIRIE, 
 
 " I can lug home bark, and I want to see the creek. 
 I have n't been nowhere, nor seen nothin' since 
 we got here. " 
 
 "You? a girl I Better be in the house mindin' 
 the baby," said her father. But Diodema paid no 
 heed to his words, and quickly made herself ready, 
 and followed on after her father and brother. 
 
 The creek was about a mile distant. A narrow 
 strip of woodland bordered it on each side ; and, 
 although this wood was comprised in somebody's 
 "claim," the country was so new, and things went 
 on in such free-and-easy fashion, that, within 
 reasonable limits, people could help themselves to 
 what they wanted. Therefore, Felix Windom 
 had no scruple against cutting saplings, or strip- 
 ping bark from large trees, with Avhich to patch 
 his roof. 
 
 Dean had submitted to his father's decision 
 without a word, and now stood watching till the 
 party was well out upon the prairie, and then he 
 turned to his mother. 
 
 "Do you think I 'd better clear off the roof? 
 If something should happen so pa did n't get it 
 done, what I put on would be better than nothing, 
 would n't it?" 
 
THE LEAKY ROOF. 15 
 
 "Yes, indeed, it would," replied his mother. 
 "We won't have anything taken off till we see 
 him coming with the bark. It won't take long 
 to clear it, then. A storm is coming this time, 
 sure, and I don't fancy a hole right over our beds. 
 I 'd sooner have you put more on, than take any 
 off." 
 
 "Some pieces of turf would hold the grass 
 down if the wind should blow," said Dean. 
 "They would keep out the snow too. Shall I 
 cut some?" 
 
 "No," said his mother, after a moment's hesita- 
 tion ; " there 's plenty of other work needing to 
 be done, and I hope pa will get the bark on. We 
 ought to have more coal in the house. But fetch- 
 ing coal is hard work for you. I wish we had a 
 wheelbarrow, or a little cart; it would be such 
 a help." 
 
 "Ma, there 's Vinnie's little wheel. I saved 
 it when the wagon got all broke to pieces. I 
 thought I could make a wheelbarrow with it some 
 time." 
 
 " And did you bring it down here ? " 
 
 " Yes ; I buried it in the corn. Nobody knew it 
 was there, and I forgot it." He went to a barrel 
 
16 BILLOW PUAIRIE. 
 
 that stood in one corner of the cabin. It was 
 nearly full of shelled corn, — the precious store 
 that stood between them and starvation. He 
 thrust his hands down deep, and brought up the 
 wheel. 
 
 "See there! Now if I had some boards and 
 nails, I could make a little wheelbarrow," said 
 Dean with bright, eager face. 
 
 "But we have n't any," said his mother. 
 "Hide it away again. It '11 come to use some- 
 time; and if the children get sight of it .they 
 won't be easy till it 's broken." 
 
 The little ones, Rudolph, or Rolfe as they 
 shortened the name, and Vinnie and Lottie, had 
 been outside at play ; but Dean heard them com- 
 ing in, and hastened to hide the little wheel 
 deeper than before. 
 
 "I reckon we 've got to have some coal, any- 
 how," he said, after a little pause. "Rolfe and 
 Vinnie can go with me, and we can bring home a 
 heap, if we all work." 
 
 "I ain't a-going to go!" said Rolfe, a thin, 
 dark-complexioned little boy of nine years. " I 've 
 got to have my chill to-day." 
 
 "Maybe you won't have any," said Dean. 
 
THE LEAKY ROOF. 17 
 
 " Oh, yes, I will I I never miss when my chill 
 day comes." 
 
 " I believe you had one yesterday. You won't 
 have one to-day," said his mother. 
 
 "You 'spect I don't know when my own chill 
 day comes ? I guess I do ! And I 'm bound to 
 have a chill to-day," insisted Rolfe. 
 
 " Well, then, Vinnie and I must go and do the 
 best we can," said Dean. "I '11 take the wooden 
 bucket, and Vinnie can have the tin pail." 
 
 Three miles westward over the prairie lived 
 John Faxon, who had once lived neighbor to 
 Felix Windom in Southern Illinois. He it was 
 who had written to them of the deserted claim, 
 and assisted them in securing it. Among the 
 advantages he had enumerated to induce them to 
 come and take possession of it, was a bed of soft 
 coal. True, it was small in extent, and of poor 
 quality; but to the destitute settler it was no 
 small advantage. It helped materially to make 
 existence possible through the first winter of their 
 life in Kansas. 
 
 Felix had dug down into the bed, and thrown 
 out a quantity of this coal ; and Dean and Vinnie, 
 armed with an old fire-shovel, set off to bring it 
 
18 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 home ; while Rolfe proceeded to verify his asser- 
 tion as to its being his chill day, by growing blue 
 about the lips and nose, and, creeping into the 
 trundle-bed, buried himself under quilts and com- 
 forters to shake out his usual period of time. 
 
 Back and forth went Dean and Vinnie with 
 loads heavy for such small arms and shoulders, 
 till the box was full of coal, and a small heap had 
 accumulated near the back door. 
 
 " It takes so many pailfuls to make such a little 
 heap," said Dean, taking off his cap and wiping 
 the moisture from his forehead. "My arms are 
 fit to break off, and it looks just such a little, 
 after all." 
 
 " I would n't bring any more till after dinner. 
 I 'm going to get it right soon," said his mother. 
 "I wish it could be covered up. If it should 
 snow, it would be bad getting at it." 
 
 Dean looked thoughtful. "If we only had a 
 cellar," said he. " I wonder if there is n't a little 
 room under the floor." 
 
 "Course there is," said Vinnie. "Did n't I 
 lose Dio's thimble down through a crack? Pa 
 pulled up one of the floor boards and got it, and I 
 saw. There 's heaps of room! " 
 
THE LEAKY BOOR 19 
 
 " We might have a trap-door, and put the coal 
 down there. I reckon it would be handier than 
 to dig it out of the snow," said Dean. "May I 
 saw off a board or two, and make one, ma?'* 
 
 His mother consented; and some of the floor 
 boards were soon removed, sawed, and put down 
 again, leaving a hole in the floor big enough to 
 pass up and down. By careful search, and dis- 
 creet subtraction of a nail here and there from 
 sundry boxes. Dean made out to nail the short 
 pieces together with cleats, and the trap-door was 
 complete. 
 
 After dinner, with patient labor, he brought 
 the coal from the rear of the house, and bestowed 
 it where it would be available in case of a storm. 
 Then he gathered every stick and chip that could 
 be made into kindling-wood, and hid it all away 
 in the same safe place. Evening closed in early; 
 for heavy clouds in the west hid the sun, and 
 made the short day still shorter. 
 
 Martha's wisdom in awaiting her husband's 
 return before clearing off the roof was proven, for 
 he came not, even with the darkness. 
 
 "I should think the want of victuals would 
 fetch them home, if nothing else can," said 
 
20 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 Martha, going to the door, and straining her eyes 
 to look through the night shadows. "Well, 
 we '11 shut the door. Dean, and light the lamp, 
 and set it in the window where they can see it, 
 so they won't lose their way. It 's going to be 
 an awful dark night." 
 
 There were two windows in the cabin ; that is, 
 there were two openings cut in the log frame, and 
 fitted with wooden shutters. Since his arrival, 
 Felix had made a rude window sash, in which he 
 intended to set glass; but because he had no 
 money to buy it, he had come to a full stop, and 
 for the present no good had come of his labor. 
 
 The lamp was lighted and set near the opening, 
 the shutter being removed, and the door was 
 closed. 
 
 "I want my supper," wailed little Lottie. 
 Martha laid the baby down, and cooked supper for 
 the children: the same fare they had had for 
 breakfast and dinner; corn-cakes, mixed with 
 water and a little salt, and fried on a griddle. 
 The stove was very old and dilapidated, and the 
 oven had lately given out, so that it would no 
 longer serve for baking. 
 
 The poor wife had much ado to keep on hand 
 
THE LEAKY BOOK 21 
 
 the small amount of salt pork necessary to grease 
 the griddle. Felix was "so fierce after meat," 
 as she phrased it, that if he knew there was a bit 
 in the house he would have it, regardless of future 
 needs, thinking, with his usual facility, there 
 would be a way to get more to-morrow. 
 
 " Don't you, one of you, dare to tell pa that 
 I 've got this," sa-id she, bringing out a fresh 
 slice from some hiding-place, and tying it up in 
 a bit of clean cloth for use and safety. " I 've 
 only this, and land knows where we '11 get any 
 more; and how would I fry the cakes?" 
 
 '"We won't. We won't tell!" they promised 
 solemnly, knowing well how serious a matter it 
 was for them. 
 
 The supper was hardly cooked when voices and 
 a hand upon the wooden latch told of the return 
 of the absent ones. They came in, filling the 
 cabin with noise, and chilly, damp night air. 
 Dean closed the shutter, and set the lamp on the 
 table*. 
 
 "What made you so late, Felix? Did you 
 think you was going to fix that roof in the 
 night?" asked Martha. 
 
 " Oh, did you get it cleared off, ready ? " said 
 
22 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 Felix, glancing upward. "No? — wall, that 's 
 all right, then. I thought maybe you would n't. 
 We '11 fix it all right in the mornin'. We 
 could n't get much bark. Fact is, the bark won't 
 peel this time o' year. Might a know'd it. But 
 I got the poles, and in the mornin' we '11 cat 
 some grass, and make a good thick coverin', and 
 bind it down strong, and I guess that '11 shed 
 rain, and keep out snow. We thought we 'd 
 try if there mought n't be fish in the creek. I 
 know 'd you was fond of fish, and Marv had his 
 hook and line. We catched a few little things; 
 but we got so fierce for something to eat that we 
 built a fire, and cooked 'em and eat 'em. And 
 jest as we was pickin' the bones, what do you 
 think ? — Faxon came along ; and he took us off 
 over the creek to see his claim, and two big hogs 
 he 's got, and I spoke for a piece o' meat when he 
 kills. Wall, it took us so long to get round, that 
 we was ruther late home, that 's all. But don't 
 you fret, Mar thy. We '11 fix that roof all snug 
 and tight in the mornin'. I 'm glad supper 's 
 most ready, for them little fish did n't stand by 
 me worth a cent." 
 
 Martha had long ago learned that it did no 
 
THE LEAKY ROOF. 23 
 
 good to fret at her easy, improvident husband, so 
 she simply hurried supper upon the table. 
 
 "What makes you fry them so thick, ma?" 
 said Diodema as she helped herself to a cake. " I 
 like them thin a great deal better." 
 
 " It takes too long to fry such a lot of thin ones 
 on this small griddle," replied her mother. 
 
 "We '11 take 'em as we can get 'em, and be 
 thankful," said Felix good-humoredly. "Pitch 
 in, child'en." 
 
 The children were not slow to obey. Each 
 took a cake in hand and began to eat. Martha 
 continued her work of frying till all were satis- 
 fied, and then left a little pile upon her own plate 
 untasted, till she should read from the leaf. 
 
 "I 'd give up that business, if I was you," said 
 her husband. "You lost your Testament, and 
 that ought to be excuse enough for not keeping 
 your promise. You 've read that leaf over and 
 over; and I 'm bound to confess that, with all my 
 learnin', I can't make head nor tail of half the 
 verses." 
 
 " Oh, now, do, — don't Felix ! Let me read ! 
 You need n't listen much, if you 're tired to- 
 night," pleaded Martha. 
 
24 BILLOW PRAIBIE. 
 
 "Mayn't I read, ma?" said Dean. "I want 
 pa to see how I 'm getting ahead. I can read it 
 most as well as anybody now." 
 
 Dean took the leaf which his mother yielded 
 not unwillingly, and read with considerable flu- 
 ency the verses from the twenty-fifth to the thirty- 
 second of the eighth chapter of Romans, the last 
 verse being, " He that spared not his own Son, but 
 delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with 
 him also freely give us all things?" 
 
 "I can understand that last verse," said Martha. 
 "It means that Christ died for us all; and if he 'd 
 do that much for us, he '11 give us what we need 
 of other things." 
 
 " Why don't he then ? We need a good many 
 things that I don't see no way of gettin'," said 
 Felix. 
 
 This was rather a difficult question for Martha. 
 She had some thoughts, but little power of cloth- 
 ing them in language. "Perhaps it means up in 
 heaven," she said doubtfully, seeing that she must 
 say something. 
 
 "Then I wish it did n't," said Felix. "If we 
 could only get things we want by bein' religious, 
 why 't would pay. I 'd read twice a day, and 
 
THE LEAKY HOOF. 25 
 
 maybe put in a sort of prayer, if things went that- 
 a-way ! But here we air ! I ' labor and tug and 
 strive, ' as the hymn-book goes it ; and we go with- 
 out meat and heaps of things we want, and I 
 don't see 's we get much help out 'n our religion, 
 what little we purtend to hev." 
 
 "It can't mean that God would give us things 
 to eat and all that, and we not work for 'em," 
 said Dean, whose eyes had been full of thought 
 while this conversation went on. "I don't 
 know what it means, but I 'm sure it don't mean 
 that." 
 
 "Why not? He did feed folks without their 
 workin' once't: sent down manny, — some kind 
 of sweetish cakes, I reckon, — right down out of 
 heaven, for a whole army of folks that he 'd 
 helped get away out of Egypt," said Felix, 
 recalling some memories of the teaching of long 
 ago. 
 
 " Oh, tell us about it, pa ! Is it a story ? Tell 
 it! " demanded the children. 
 
 So, while Martha ate her supper, the father, 
 pleased to display his knowledge to his admiring 
 audience, told the story of the Israelites' escape 
 from bondage, and journey through the wilder- 
 
26 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 ness. The account, as lie gave it, would be more 
 amusing than profitable, and the poorest Bible 
 student would be amazed at some of his "facts," 
 and wonder where he found them. But his hear- 
 ers were not critical, and listened eagerly. 
 
THE SNOW-STOBM. 27 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE SNOW-STORM. 
 
 The wind rose before midnight, and Martha 
 woke to listen to its shrill whistle about her 
 dwelling. Soon she became conscious of a fine, 
 light mist-like snow falling upon her face. It 
 increased till she seemed to be in the midst of a 
 small snow-storm. 
 
 " Felix ! Felix I do wake up, " she cried, tugging 
 vigorously at the elbow of her sleeping companion. 
 "Wake! It 's snowing all over the bed. We 
 shall get our death of cold." 
 
 "What do you want?" murmured the sleeper. 
 "S'posin' the snow does come in some. Can I 
 help it? There ain't no fixin' that roof to-night." 
 
 " No ; but do get up and get something to keep 
 it off of our heads. My shawl will do. And see 
 if the children are all right." 
 
 Felix's one virtue, good-nature, did not fail him 
 even when waked out of a sound sleep, and forced 
 to get out of bed and go about a cold room in 
 
28 BILLOW PliAIElE. 
 
 search of wraps. He lighted the lamp, found the 
 shawl, and spread it over his wife's head, looked 
 at the children, and, as they were all sleeping 
 soundly, pronounced them "all right," and crept 
 back into bed. 
 
 "But he was not to be let off so easily. He had 
 scarcely drawn the first long, sonorous breath of 
 sleep before one of the little ones cried out, " Pa ! 
 o-oh, pa! it 's snowing all over my bed, and in 
 my face." 
 
 He rose once more, and, groping in the dark, 
 found some kind of a garment, which he shook 
 clear of the snow that had sifted in upon every- 
 thing in the room, and, laying it over the little 
 girls' heads, as they lay cuddled close together in 
 the trundle-bed, he said, " There, keep that over 
 your heads, and you '11 be all right. We can't 
 do any better for you to-night. Go to sleep! " 
 
 "Will you hand me my coat, pa? The snow 
 comes in on us too," said one of the boys, from 
 their bed on the floor in the farther corner of the 
 room. 
 
 The boys being protected in similar fashion, 
 Felix returned to his bed; and his children, ac- 
 customed to discomforts, made no more complaint. 
 
THE SNOW-STOBM. 29 
 
 except that now and then a sleepy voice would 
 cry out, " You 're pulling it all off of me ! Let 
 me have my share of the quilt!" But this 
 scarcely disturbed their father's slumbers. 
 
 Martha, who had not been endowed with the 
 same easy, happy-go-lucky disposition, could not 
 sleep. She was thinking of the state in which 
 things would be found in the morning: every- 
 thing covered with snow ; the children blue, shiv- 
 ering, crying with cold, and contracting dreadful 
 diseases ; the baby fretting. She knew too well 
 what it would be like ; and all her planning and 
 studying could find no way out of the difficulties 
 of the situation. Sleep overpowered her at last, 
 while she was conning over and over those strange 
 words, " How shall he not also freely give us all 
 things?" "I wish He would help us, somehow,'^ 
 she murmured, with a faint hope in that help. 
 Echoing her own words, "Help us somehow!" 
 again and again, with her heart turned toward 
 Him in meek petition, she slipped into uncon- 
 sciousness, and slept till the dim light, peering 
 in through the cracks about door and windows, 
 told her it was morning. 
 
 " Come, Felix ! You ought to get up, and get 
 
30 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 the boys up, to clear off the snow. Everything 
 is covered; and the beds will be all wet unless it 
 is brushed off clean before the fire is built. I 
 guess it has stopped snowing. It does n't seem 
 to sift in as it did. I shall have to lie still, and 
 keep the baby; and you can put Vinnie and Lottie 
 into this bed, and Rolfe too. They must n't go 
 about in the snow. Dio can help some, I guess." 
 
 Felix obeyed his wife's directions; and the 
 necessary sweeping and shoveling and shaking 
 and brushing began, and the snow was rapidly 
 gathered together and turned out-doors. 
 
 "I 'm thankful it has stopped snowing," said 
 Martha, as she watched operations from her safe, 
 though crowded quarters in bed. "It isn't so 
 bad as it might be," with a quick remembrance 
 of her hours of anxious thought, and her prayer. 
 They had been helped "somehow," in that the 
 storm was • over, and the snow was so light and 
 dry that it could be shaken off readily. 
 
 "But we 're burning out all the oil," she con- 
 tinued, her weak faith faltering in view of a new 
 trouble. "There isn't a cupful in the oil-can, 
 and we can't have the windows open such a cold, 
 windy day as this." 
 
THE SNOW-STORM. 31 
 
 " There 's a good fire now, and the room is get- 
 ting comfortable," said Felix. "I wouldn't go 
 to worryin' about the oil. It '11 come all right, 
 somehow." 
 
 That word "somehow" encouraged Martha 
 again, reminding her of the help she had so lately 
 received. "Do help us, somehow," her heart 
 petitioned again. She was beginning to look 
 up for help in her perplexities and distresses. 
 "'Freely give us all things: ' some more oil, and 
 some glass for the window, please, if 't ain't too 
 much to ask you to 'tend to such things." 
 
 She felt more cheerful after this prayer. She 
 hoped, she almost believed, that " He that spared 
 not his own Son," would hear and answer her in 
 her distress. 
 
 The breakfast being over, Felix rose, and tak- 
 ing down his much-bepatched outside coat, said, 
 " I reckon I better go down to that mill, and see 
 if they won't give me a job. It 's middlin' cold 
 to go out, and middlin' late to start, but the snow 
 ain't deep enough to hurt me, and if I don't never 
 start, I won't never get nothin'." 
 
 This sensible conclusion Martha did not contra- 
 dict. She only replied by saying, "Can't you 
 
32 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 take Marvel along ? He 's such a trouble in the 
 house. He won't set himself about an earthly 
 thing, but to plague the little ones all day long. 
 Maybe he can get a job and earn a bit too." 
 
 " 'T would come proper handy if he could; but 
 I 'low you won't hear no such good news. His 
 shoes is most off his feet, but I s'pose he can go. 
 Come along, Marv." 
 
 They departed, and those who ren^ained at 
 home went each about the business of the day. 
 Martha washed and dressed the baby; Diodema 
 cleared away the breakfast dishes, and swept the 
 room; Dean and Rolfe took turns at pounding 
 the corn in the rude mortar, which their father 
 had hollowed out of an oak log, for making hom- 
 iny; and the two little girls amused themselves 
 in the warm corner by the fire. 
 
 "Ma," said Dean, in his interval of rest, "I 
 keep thinking of that verse about 'freely give us 
 all things.' May I get the leaf? I want to learn 
 it." 
 
 " Yes, get it, and read out loud to me. It ran 
 in my head in the night, and it seemed wonderful 
 comforting," said his mother. 
 
 Dean read it, slowly and stumblingly, and then 
 
THE SNOW-STORM. 33 
 
 a second and a third time, and each time more 
 readily, and with a better understanding of its 
 meaning, till his brother interrupted, by saying, — 
 
 "Come! you 've got to take your turn now; 
 my arms ache! " 
 
 As Dean pounded away, he said over and over 
 such parts of the verse as he could remember, his 
 mother putting in a word to help when her mem- 
 ory supplied it; and Vinnie, who was quick to 
 learn, caught it up, and then Rolfe, and so they 
 recited it all together in concert. 
 
 "I like it first-rate! " said Dean. "It 's a nice 
 verse, is n't it, ma? Do you s'pose we '11 ever 
 have a whole Testament again?" 
 
 "I don't know how we '11 ever get one," said 
 his mother. " If you was only as big and strong 
 as Marvel, or if Marvel only had as much" — she 
 would not say "wit." She had heard her eldest 
 son called "half-witted," and it hurt her none the 
 less that it savored of the truth. She would not 
 use that word, so she had changed her sentence, 
 and said, " if he was only as steady and careful as 
 you are he might earn quite a bit, if there were 
 any chances. I 'm afraid there won't be many 
 down here." 
 
34 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "Why, mother, there 's the mill! " 
 
 " Oh, but everybody that lives about here has 
 just come, and they 're all poor, I reckon ; and for 
 every chore there is to do at the mill there '11 be 
 twenty eager to do it. Pa might as well try, but 
 I 'm afraid he won't get any work. I wish he 
 might. I don't see how we 're to get along. 
 But, there! I 'm worrying again, and it ain't no 
 use." 
 
 "'Freely give us all things,' you know, ma!" 
 said Dean, looking up from his work with a 
 bright, hopeful glance. 
 
 " It has a pretty sound. I hope it means that 
 He does look out for us. It 's a lonesome thing 
 to be away down here, and it would be a comfort 
 to know He was caring." 
 
 The short winter day glided by, and the shades 
 of evening gathered. The inmates of the log 
 cabin began to take long looks out at the door in 
 the direction in which they expected the return 
 of their absent ones. 
 
 "There 's a man coming on horseback," said 
 Rolfe. 
 
 This announcement brought the whole family 
 to the door. It was a rare event when any one 
 passed. 
 
THE SNOW-STORM. 35 
 
 "Stand back. It is n't manners to look so 
 hard," said the mother, as the traveler drew 
 near. 
 
 The children drew back, and contented them- 
 selves with peeping out at the half-closed door. 
 
 " He 's coming here ! " — " He 's going to stop ! " 
 announced several voices as the stranger drew his 
 rein, and turned his horse toward the door. 
 
 He dismounted and stood near the threshold, 
 with one hand on the bridle, while he asked, — 
 
 "Can you give me a lodging, and my horse 
 shelter and food ? We are both tired and hungry, 
 and are willing to accept any accommodations you 
 can afford us. " 
 
 "I 'm sorry," Martha began to say, but he 
 interrupted her with a good-natured smile, — 
 
 " You may as well say yes at once, for I can't 
 possibly go any farther ; " and he dropped the 
 bridle to rub his hands together, to restore some 
 warmth to them. "I '11 put up with anything, 
 and pay for all expense and trouble I make you. 
 I see there 's a straw shed out yonder." 
 
 "But we have a large family, and only one 
 room," said Martha. 
 
 "But you don't wish a fellow-creature to perish 
 
36 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 out here on your bleak prairies! I 'm a stranger 
 in these parts, and it 's getting dark, and the next 
 house may be miles away; and if I should n't lose 
 m}^ way, but should find it, it would most likely 
 be just like this, small, and no accommodations 
 for travelers. You can at least let me lie on the 
 floor before your fire. I 'm used to roughing it, 
 and will ask nothing better." 
 
 " But our horse-shed is no account, — all 
 tumbling to pieces. We 've just come here, and 
 have n't any stock, so we did n't fix it up, or 
 even put up a stack of hay." 
 
 " May I go out there and see what I can find ? " 
 asked the young man. 
 
 "Oh, certain! Dean, go with him, and help 
 him if you can." 
 
 It proved a poor shelter indeed. There was a 
 straw roof: the walls had all gone for kindling- 
 wood, except on the north side. It was, however, 
 a good deal better than the open prairie ; and the 
 stranger tied his horse under it, blanketed him 
 well, and poured some oats, from a bag which he 
 had carried behind his saddle, into the rude 
 manger. 
 
 "There, old fellow! That's the best I can 
 
THE SNOW-STOBM. 37 
 
 do for you," he said, patting the animal's 
 shoulder. 
 
 "I can get plenty of dry straw for his bed," 
 said Dean. "I '11 pull it out from beneath. 
 Leave it to me. I reckon you 're chilled through. 
 Go in and get warm. I '11 give him such a bed 
 that he can't be cold." 
 
 " Thank you. He will appreciate that, I know. 
 I will go in now, for I am benumbed with cold." 
 
 The children gazed shyly but admiringly at the 
 stranger as he sat near the fire rubbing his hands 
 and feet alternately. He was well dressed, and a 
 rather handsome young man, with red cheeks and 
 dark bright eyes. The lower part of his face was 
 concealed by a heavy, silky brown beard, but his 
 smile revealed a row of white, even teeth; and 
 the pleasant, even merry look that seemed at home 
 upon his face, attracted the children more strongly 
 than his good looks. 
 
 "Why don't you take off your shoes and warm 
 your feet? " asked Rolfe, who was bolder than the 
 rest. 
 
 "Oh, they '11 get warm fast enough. They '11 
 ache if I warm them too fast," said the stranger. 
 
 Martha, intent on her supper, which she would 
 
38 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 have liked much to make more tempting had she 
 possessed the means, had little time or thought to 
 bestow upon her guest's appearance. She had not 
 failed to see, in the quick scrutiny she gave him 
 as he crossed her threshold, that he was not a man 
 to be feared. He looked a good young man. 
 That was enough for her. She spread a white 
 cloth upon her rude table, and brought out her 
 two old silver teaspoons and one glass tumbler — 
 cherished treasures that were too precious to be 
 used on common occasions — to adorn it. But 
 she had only the old chipped and cracked earthen 
 dishes, and nothing to put in them but the hominy 
 that had been cooking on the stove all the after- 
 noon. 
 
A SUNDAY-SCHOOL MAN. 39 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A SUNDAY-SCHOOL MAN. 
 
 Just as they were ready to sit down to supper, 
 Felix and Marvel returned, and Dean came in. 
 
 After hearing the stranger's explanation of his 
 presence, Felix gave him a hospitable welcome, 
 and they all sat down together. 
 
 " We ought to have some molasses, or milk, or 
 something with this hominy. I reckon you ain't 
 used to quite so plain fare, stranger," Felix began, 
 as he helped him to a plateful. 
 
 "I am very hungry, and this tastes good. I 
 did n't know anything made of corn alone could 
 be so good," replied the stranger. 
 
 "Where have you come from, and how far 
 might you be a-travelin' ? " asked the host, after 
 a few spoonfuls of the warm food had taken the 
 keenest edge from his own hunger. 
 
 "I came from Chicago. I expect to go as far 
 south as Baxter Springs," the young man replied. 
 
 "Goin' to take up a claim on these prairies 
 
40 BILLOW PRAIBIE. 
 
 somewhere, I reckon. Or, maybe you 're buying 
 up land for a spec." 
 
 " No, I 'm not buying land, nor looking up a 
 claim. I 'm a Sunday-school man. I 've been 
 visiting several places, trying to establish Sunday- 
 schools here and there, wherever there seems to 
 be an opening." 
 
 "Sho, now! I ought to have asked you to ask 
 a blessing, had n't I? I did n't take it you was 
 that kind of a man. You can read and pray for 
 us after supper, if you 're a mind to, and that '11 
 suit my woman fine. She 's a mind to be kind o' 
 religious. Her old granny give her a New Testa- 
 ment just afore she died, and made her promise as 
 how she 'd read it out to us after supper every 
 night, and she 's kep' it up. She had the mis- 
 fortin to lose her Testament when we was mov- 
 ing down here." 
 
 " Ah, that was a pity ! So she had to give it 
 up after all! " said the stranger, who, in his keen 
 interest, had stopped eating to listen. 
 
 "No; that she did n't! My woman 's got 
 uncommon grit about some things, and she '11 
 make 'em go if there 's any go to 'em. She man- 
 aged to get hold of a leaf of an old Testament 
 
A SUNDAY-SCHOOL MAN. 41 
 
 that the child' en used to carry to school, and 
 she 's read that over and over ever sence. It 's 
 mighty hard reading for her, — Romans is, — and 
 sometimes I have to give her a lift. I used to be 
 a schoolmaster once't, and the hard words don't 
 stick me. No, sir! the harder they are, the better 
 1 like 'em." 
 
 " And you, — have n't you a mind to be reli- 
 gious, as well as your wife ? " asked the stranger. 
 
 " Wall, yes, after a fashion. I like to go to a 
 good rousin' camp-meetin' ; stirs a man up, and 
 makes him feel as if somethin' was a-doin'. And 
 I 'm willin' to read for Marthy." 
 
 "And you pray with your family after the 
 reading? " 
 
 "Wall, no. I don't go in quite so deep as 
 that, and I '11 give ye my reasons. You see, to 
 go in deep is kind o' henderin'. For instance: 
 here we air, jest moved down onto the wild 
 perrarie, not a head of stock, and, I may as 
 well own the truth, not a dollar in money. We 
 fetched corn and things, so we ain't starving 
 poor ; but you can see, with half an eye, that a 
 man with a big family has to work when and 
 where he can get work. Now, I 've tramped four 
 
42 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 miles down to a saw-mill this cold day, to try 
 if I could n't get a job, and the only chance I 
 could get was next Sunday. They '11 give me a 
 dollar for the day's work. Wall, now, I know 
 workin' of a Sunday ain't the thing for a pur- 
 fesser, or for anybody that purtends to be right 
 down pious. But my family reely needs that 
 dollar — must have it, I may say. So I don't 
 purtend to go in deep. I can't afford it." 
 
 "You believe there is a God, do you not?" 
 asked the stranger. 
 
 "In course I do! Do ye take me for a 
 heathen ? " 
 
 "And that he has given us the Bible? " 
 
 " To be sure ! And that every word and letter 
 on 't is true," said Felix stoutly. 
 
 " Well, then, what does it mean when it says, 
 'Trust in the Lord, and do good; so shalt thou 
 dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed' ? " 
 
 "Does it say that?" interrupted Martha. 
 "Why, that 's some like the verse the children 
 learned this afternoon : 'Freely give us all things.' 
 Say it. Dean. My memory is so poor I can't 
 remember it all, yet." 
 
 Dean hesitated, and looked at his father, uncer- 
 
A SUNDAY-SCHOOL MAN. 43 
 
 tain whether he might speak ; as the one point on 
 which Felix's family discipline was rigid, was 
 that when he was talking, his children were to 
 remain silent. 
 
 " Out with it, if you can say it. Dean ! " said 
 his father; and Dean repeated the verse. 
 
 "We thought it a comforting kind of a verse," 
 said Martha; "but we did n't feel sure whether or 
 no it meant such things as folks want every day, 
 and ought to earn for themselves.'* 
 
 "Well, the verse certainly does n't mean that 
 we may be careless and idle, and then the Lord 
 will see that we have the things we need. There 
 are other verses that tell us we must be diligent 
 in business. Do yOu know the commandments, 
 Dean?" 
 
 "Yes; I learned them at school," answered 
 Dean. 
 
 "Yes, 8iV/" corrected the father. "Where 's 
 your manners. Dean?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Dean meekly. 
 
 "Well," said the stranger, "isn't there one 
 that says, ' Six days shalt thou labor ' ? " 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Then don't you think we ought to work and 
 
44 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 do our best, and, having done that, trust in the 
 Lord and do good, — which, I take it, means do 
 right, — and we shall be fed?" 
 
 "Yes, sir! " said Dean. 
 
 "It looks like it meant that, certain! " said his 
 mother. 
 
 " Would n't that shut off Sunday work ? " asked 
 the stranger turning to Felix. 
 
 "Wall, it might, and then agin it might n't," 
 said Felix. " When a man is in my sittiwation, 
 he can't always see his way clear to let a chance 
 slip." 
 
 "That means he can't believe God, and trust 
 fully to his promise," said the stranger. "The 
 commandment to keep the Sabbath holy is clear 
 and positive. 'Thou shalt not do any work.' 
 And, mark my words, Mr. Windom, God can 
 make one dollar go as far as two. Yes, I 'd rather 
 have no money at all, with his blessing, than all 
 the wealth in the world without it. ' The blessing 
 of the Lord, it maketh rich.' " 
 
 "There 's a good reason why they must keep 
 the mill a-goin' seven days in the week," said 
 Felix, after a moment's pause for thought. 
 " It 's a smallish stream, and there is n't water 
 
A SUNDAY-SCHOOL MAN. 45 
 
 enough to run it, only when it 's full, so it stan's 
 to reason they want to do all the work they can, 
 them times. And I '11 have to go. I promised 
 to, and I ain't the man to go contrairy to my 
 word. It 's right to keep your promises ! Hey, 
 stranger?" 
 
 "Oh, I guess they 'd let you off if you told 
 them" — 
 
 "They can get hands enough, in course," inter- 
 rupted Felix. " There 's plenty stands ready to 
 take the job off'n my hands, if they have a 
 chance. But I 've got a holt of it, and I mean to 
 keep a holt. I ain't no sich fool as to let go." 
 
 "Maybe you 'd better, Felix," said Martha. 
 "If 't ain't right to do it, you ought to give it 
 up. You see, if it loses us the promise " — 
 
 "What promise? How should it lose us the 
 promise ? " said Felix impatiently. " I thought 
 you was always for havin' me work, Marthy! 
 I 'm sure, you 're always puttin' me up to do this 
 or that, and now, here you air a-goin' right agin 
 me!" 
 
 Martha turned helplessly to the stranger, as if 
 unable to explain herself, and wishing him to 
 speak. 
 
46 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "You 're losing the promise that you shall 
 certainly be fed if you do right. 'Verily thou 
 shalt be fed; ' that means certainly." 
 
 "You don't need to tell me what the words 
 mean. I had good learning when I was young, 
 and I 've been schoolmaster once't," said Felix 
 with some show of sullenness. 
 
 "Excuse me. But perhaps the children do not 
 all know. You see, they are drinking in all we 
 say. They will do as you do probably. If you 
 decide to trust God, and do what is right, they 
 will learn to do the same, and be better men and 
 better women all their lives. On the contrary, if 
 they see that you don't believe strongly enough 
 to forego an immediate advantage in obedience to 
 his plain command, they will be influenced by 
 your decision." 
 
 "Wall, I '11 see," said Felix. "I '11 think it 
 over. And now, if you 're done your supper, 
 stranger, we '11 have that little reading and pray- 
 ing over with, 'cause Marthy won't be satisfied 
 with no less." 
 
 The stranger took the worn and soiled leaf that 
 had done so good service, and read from it, and 
 then knelt and offered a short prayer. Afterwards 
 
A SUNDAY-SCHOOL MAN, 47 
 
 the men went out to look to the comfort of the 
 horse. When they came in again, they found 
 that Martha had converted the living room into 
 two sleeping rooms by means of a calico curtain. 
 The larger division contained the bed which her 
 guest and Felix were to share. Beside it, cm the 
 floor, was spread the boys' bed. In the other part 
 she had the trundle-bed arranged for herself and 
 the little girls. She had changed the length for 
 the width, and pieced it out with the little blue 
 chest, covered with a folded rug and an old quilt. 
 
 "Our accommodations are poor," she said 
 apologetically. "We used to have three rooms 
 before we moved down here ; but we are willing 
 to live anyhow for a while, for the sake of getting 
 a place of our own." 
 
 " I hope you will not make yourself uncomfort- 
 able on my account," said the stranger. "I had 
 no choice but to stay, though I slept in a chair by 
 the fire ; but you seem to have wonderful resources, 
 and have provided beds for all. " 
 
 The whole of the room being now occupied by 
 beds, there was nothing to be done but to go 
 to rest, and indeed all were weary enough ; and 
 Martha had for some time been watching the last 
 
48 BILLOW PRAIEIE. 
 
 of her oil getting very low in the lamp, and fear- 
 ing it would not last till they were in bed. 
 
 When the stranger was ready to resume his 
 journey in the morning, he offered pay for his 
 lodging, but Felix refused it decidedly. 
 
 "^e ain't the kind o' folks that wants pay for 
 a little 'commodation o' this sort, "said he. "We 
 could n't do very well by ye, but we done the 
 best we could, and you 're welcome to it." 
 
 " But I made my bargain with your wife. I 
 said 'I '11 pay for the trouble and the expense,' 
 and now I must keep my word," and he offered 
 the money to Martha, who drew back, saying, — 
 
 "It 's just as he says, sir. You 're welcome 
 as far as I 'm concerned." 
 
 " It hain't the custom of the country, sir. We 
 should feel mighty mean if we took money for a 
 little favor like that. It 's kind of agin my con- 
 science as I may say," said Felix loftily. 
 
 " And yet your conscience will allow you to use 
 the Lord's day for making money. Is n't that 
 rather inconsistent, my friend? This money is 
 honestly yours." 
 
 "Well, maybe 't is, and then agin maybe 
 't is n't. I can't say. But put it up; I don't 
 want it," said Felix. 
 
A SUNDAY-SCHOOL MAN. 49 
 
 " Here is a little book I want to give to Dean. 
 He was very good to my horse," said the stranger, 
 putting a very tiny little voluQie in Dean's hand. 
 "This, "said he, "is a part of the New Testament. 
 It is the book of John." 
 
 Dean received it with a look of gratitude and 
 pleasure more eloquent than words. 
 
 "That more than pays for your keep," said 
 Martha, no less pleased than her boy. " We 've 
 wanted one right bad." 
 
 "I am as glad to give it as you are to receive 
 it. And I will not forget when I get home to 
 send you a paper now and then. Shall we kneel 
 and ask God to bless us all before we part ? " 
 
 They all knelt, and the stranger remembered 
 each one by name, and prayed in plain, simple 
 words that the youngest could understand. There 
 were tears on Martha's cheeks when she rose. 
 
 Then he shook hands with them all, leaving 
 something bright and glittering in little Lottie's 
 palm, over which he closed her fingers. She held 
 it tightly, peeping smilingly between her fingers. 
 
 "That's not accordin' to contrack," remon- 
 strated Felix. 
 
 " Oh, it is n't contrary to the custom of the 
 
50 BILLOW PRAIHIE. 
 
 country to allow a child to take a little money. I 
 know better than that," said the stranger good- 
 humoredly, as he mounted his horse. 
 
 "Come again, if you can, "said Martha heartily. 
 The invitation was repeated by Felix, and echoed 
 by the children. 
 
 "If I ever come this way I certainly will," said 
 the stranger. 
 
 They watched him out of sight, and turned 
 from the door reluctantly. 
 
 "He 's a good man," said Martha. 
 
 " Jest the right sort for a Sunday-school man, 
 or a preacher," responded Felix. "Let me see 
 your money, Lottie I " 
 
 Lottie opened her hand, and revealed a silver 
 dollar. "It 's mine! he gave it to me," she said. 
 
 "But don't you want pa to take it to town, 
 and buy you a stick of candy with it, — so long? " 
 said he, measuring on his hand. 
 
 "Yes; I do," said the child. 
 
 " And it will buy oil too, so we shall not have 
 to be in the dark, and some glass to make the 
 window," said Martha. "You '11 like a nice 
 glass window, Lottie ? " 
 
 "Yes, yes; take it! " said the little one. 
 
A SUNDAY-SCHOOL MAN, 51 
 
 An earnest consultation was now held. There 
 were so many more things needed than the dollar 
 would purchase, that it was necessary to choose 
 among them; and some things that seemed indis- 
 pensable had to be left out. Oil, nails, glass, a 
 little thread for mending the worn garments of 
 the family, a little salt, if possible a little coffee, 
 and alas ! certainly a little tobacco ; for the head 
 of the family was a slave to this filthy weed, and 
 could not be denied it, even in this extremity, 
 when his wife, with a young babe to nurse, had 
 neither tea nor sugar, milk nor flour. 
 
62 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SUNDAY WOKK. 
 
 Felix and Marvel set out immediately, the one 
 carrying a basket, and the other the oil-can, on 
 the seven miles' walk to the nearest store. In 
 their absence the children occupied the time 
 bringing coal, pounding hominy, and reading 
 from the little book. The day was quite mild, 
 so the window could be left open. Dean was 
 improving so rapidly in his reading that his 
 mother was glad to leave it to him most of the 
 time, and be a listener. While her hands were 
 busy, she was drinking in eagerly the good words, 
 and trying to understand. The baby, a plump, 
 peaceable little person, who seemed aware that 
 she had come into a family where the luxury of 
 constant tending could not be expected, rarely 
 caused any interruption. She would lie for hours 
 in her cradle wide awake, looking up at the mov- 
 ing forms and faces about her, exercising herself 
 with kicking her feet, and throwing up her arms, 
 
SUNDAY WOBK. 53 
 
 and smiling back for every cheery word or smile 
 bestowed upon her. 
 
 Dio could read a little, but she rarely exercised 
 that accomplishment. She seemed scarcely to 
 care to listen, though, in the dearth of other 
 interests, she undoubtedly heard a good deal. 
 But she never asked, as Dean was continually 
 doing, "What does it mean when it says that? " 
 
 "I ought to have known my Bible better,'* said 
 Martha, when unable to reply to one of these 
 questions of her boy. " 1 had a chance to know, 
 for Granny had a nice big print Bible, and she 
 knew it well from beginning to end. I 've heard 
 her say she had read it all through four times ; 
 and the Psalms and the New Testament she 
 did n't know how many times. But I was like 
 Dio then, I did n't take much interest." 
 
 "I wonder if I '11 ever have a whole Bible?" 
 said Dean. "I want to know all God says. I 
 guess when I 'm a man, I '11 be a Sunday-school 
 man, like Ellsworth Capen." 
 
 They had not inquired the stranger's name ; but 
 after he was gone they found written in the little 
 book, " Dean Windom, from his friend Ellsworth 
 Capen." So they knew his name. 
 
64 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 "You '11 be a man, and can earn money, and 
 buy Bibles or anything you want," said Dio. 
 "I 'm only a girl, and can't do anything I want 
 to. I wish I was a boy! " 
 
 "Girls can earn money too," said Dean. 
 
 "Not so much as boys," said Dio quickly. 
 " If I was a boy, think I 'd stay cooped up here in 
 a miserable log cabin with no windows, nor any- 
 thing nice and comfortable? I 'd go off to some 
 city and get work, and then I 'd send ma money 
 to buy a cow and chickens and heaps of things." 
 
 This led to the building of a variety of air- 
 castles, which amused the children, and brightened 
 the hours even for their mother. 
 
 Though it was late in the evening when Felix 
 and Marvel got home, the window was finished, 
 after they had eaten supper, and set in its place, 
 all ready to let in the morning light; and, with 
 this great addition to their few comforts, they 
 went to bed quite happy. 
 
 " He freely gave us the window and the oil I 
 asked for, and some other things that I did n't 
 ask for," reflected Martha, as she lay upon her 
 bed. "I thank him! Now, for certain, Felix 
 must n't go to work on Sunday, if I can help it." 
 
SUNDAY WORK. 56 
 
 But although Felix had promised to think it 
 over, when Mr. Capen had urged the duty of 
 keeping the Sabbath holy, he had known quite 
 well how he should decide ; and before the first 
 faint flush of dawn appeared in the east, he was 
 out of bed ; and, disregarding Martha's protests, 
 took a little cold breakfast, and was off to the 
 mill. 
 
 Martha wanted to do right, and she wanted her 
 family to do right also; but it must be confessed 
 that it did seem hard that Felix should have to 
 refuse work on the only day of all the week that 
 he could have it. Her faith was very weak as 
 yet, and perhaps her protests were not as hearty 
 as they should have been. Yet she did not forget 
 her visitor's words, "The Lord can make one 
 dollar go as far as two; " and her own experience 
 told her it was true, for some times her husband 
 had earned money when it did his family very 
 little good. He had not, indeed, wasted it in riot 
 and drink. Felix prided himself upon his up- 
 rightness in this respect ; but he was of a foolishly 
 sanguine temper, and his little learning proved a 
 dangerous thing, for he was often drawn into 
 schemes, the success of which was more than 
 
66 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 doubtful from tlie beginning; and no entreaties 
 or arguments of his wife availed anything when 
 his mind was set upon one of these ventures ; for 
 did he not know a good deal more than she ? and 
 was not the judgment of a man of his attainments 
 worth more than that of a woman with no learning 
 to speak of? 
 
 Martha's protests in this case had not been 
 forcible; partly because she had seen that Felix 
 was determined, and whatever she said would be 
 useless, and partly because her faith was yet so 
 weak that she was not wholly set against his 
 going. But all her Sabbath comfort was destroyed. 
 Her joy in her new window, and in hearing Dean 
 read by its light, was more than half spoiled. 
 
 It was a quiet day. The children's prattle did 
 not disturb their mother, so long as they did not 
 quarrel, and they rarely quarreled much when 
 Marvel was not there to tease them. 
 
 Marvel, vexed that he had not been awakened 
 to go with his father to the mill, had followed 
 him as soon as breakast was over. As in his 
 father's case, Martha had made but feeble remon- 
 strance; for, though she had small hope of his 
 earning anything, his absence was a great relief; 
 
SUNDAY WORK. 67 
 
 and she thought if he was with his father he 
 would come to no harm. She did remind him of 
 the commandment to keep the Sabbath holy, add- 
 ing her conviction that no good would come of 
 working on that day; but he only answered, in 
 his own stubborn way, — 
 
 "What pa does, I 'lido." 
 
 The day was cold, and grew colder. Marvel's 
 clothes were thin, and he was thoroughly chilled, 
 so that his face was blue and his teeth chattered 
 by the time he got to the mill. There was no 
 chance for him to earn money ; but, to keep him 
 quiet, his father allowed him to help him when- 
 ever there was a chance. In the afternoon three 
 or four boys, who had been skating on the stream 
 near the mill, came in to warm themselves by the 
 fire that was kept burning in a small room con- 
 nected with it. 
 
 Marvel hailed their appearance with joy. He 
 was not yet acquainted with any boys in the new 
 neighborhood. He gladly accepted their invita- 
 tion to "Come on!" when they were ready to 
 start out again. 
 
 One of them good-naturedly lent his skates to 
 Marvel for a while ; and he was in the full tide of 
 
58 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 enjoyment, when suddenly he broke through the 
 ice. He laughed at the accident, for the water 
 was shallow, and he had only wet one of his feet. 
 He went on with his amusement, sliding about, 
 when he had no skates, till, overcome with the 
 cold, the boys gave up the sport and went home. 
 Then he returned to the mill. 
 
 "My foot feels as if it was most froze," said 
 he, as he sat down by the fire to warm his chilled 
 limbs. "I declare I b'lieve 't is froze." 
 
 There was no one to talk to, as his father was 
 still at work in the mill, but that did not hinder 
 Marvel from talking. 
 
 " 'T is froze, sure ! 'T won't do to let pa know 
 of that. He '11 scold 'cause I did n't come in 
 soon as I got it wet. What '11 I do? Thaw it 
 out, I reckon. I know it '11 ache fearful! " 
 
 Nevertheless, knowing no better thing to do, 
 he took off his shoes and put his feet to the fire. 
 Soon they did begin to "ache fearful." He bore 
 it as long as he could, but his fortitude was not 
 great, and his groans and cries at length reached 
 his father's ears. He came and looked in. 
 
 "What ails ye, Marv? Froze your feet? Jest 
 like you! Why did n't ye come in sooner? Now 
 we '11 have a purty time! Let me look at it." 
 
SUNDAY WORK. 59 
 
 The poor rag of a stocking was drawn off and 
 the foot examined. 
 
 "My! Won't you have a time! What did ye 
 put yer foot to the fire fur? Did n't ye know 
 better 'n that? No use a-screechin'. Why did n't 
 ye stay to home where yer belonged? Both of 
 'em is froze some, I reckon, but that one 's bad. 
 If ye ever get home yer '11 be glad to stay there, 
 I reckon. Oh, dear! Such luck as we 're always 
 ahavin'!" 
 
 As the daylight declined, Martha made her 
 usual preparations for supper, and the home- 
 coming of the absent ones, and then waited and 
 watched for their appearance. She had not to 
 wait long before she saw a horse and wagon com- 
 ing, and recognized her husband and son among 
 those who rode. 
 
 "He got a ride home. That was a stroke of 
 luck. Folks don't pass here very often," she 
 remarked to her children. 
 
 But she was soon undeceived, and realized that 
 instead of a "stroke of luck," it had been a mis- 
 fortune that had made it necessary for Felix to 
 find somebody to bring Marvel home. 
 
 " I was afraid no good would come of Sunday 
 
60 BILLOW PRAIBIE. 
 
 work," she said. "T 've kept thinking all day 
 how that the Lord said, ' Verily thou shalt be 
 fed,' and how that we could n't trust him, but 
 must work on his day; and now, here 's Marvie 
 laid up for nobody knows how long, and maybe a 
 doctor to pay." 
 
 " 'T ain't my fault! If he 'd had half-wit he 'd 
 a-know 'd he would freeze his feet after he got 
 'em wet. You always lay every blamed thing 
 onto me. Jest as if I was n't trying with all my 
 might, — getting up before daylight, and off in 
 the dark and cold to work! What did you let 
 Marv come for, anyhow? I did n't want hrm, 
 and T took special pains not to wake him when I 
 got up." 
 
 Martha had nothing to say in reply. Sadly she 
 went about, getting together such bandages and 
 remedies as she could command, and in silence she 
 bound up the aching feet. Marvel was not silent 
 during the. process. His groans were varied with 
 howls, which his father's stern commands could 
 not repress. As soon as he had been made as 
 comfortable as circumstances allowed, he threw 
 himself across his mother's bed, and, spite of 
 pain, was soon in a heavy sleep, being wholly 
 
SUNDAY WORK. 61 
 
 exhausted by the fright and excitement and pain 
 of the last two hours. 
 
 " ' The Lord can make one dollar go as far as 
 two,' that man said," Martha remarked musingly, 
 when the noise and confusion were succeeded by 
 quiet, and they were able to sit down to their 
 long-delayed meal. "I should think he could 
 that! If we 'd been a Sabbath-keeping family, 
 all sitting round the fire reading our Bible this 
 afternoon, this would n't have happened. I 've 
 learned one lesson that I reckon I won't forget 
 very soon; and, as far as I have my way, the 
 Sabbath is going to be kept, after this, in this 
 house, let come what will." 
 
 Felix attended diligently to his supper, letting 
 his wife's remarks pass unheeded. He knew she 
 was in the right, and was half inclined to make 
 up his mind to "go in deep," as he called it, and 
 join hands with her in saying, "As for me and 
 my house, we will serve the Lord." But only 
 half; as usual he put off the decision to some 
 other time 
 
62 BILLOW PRAIBIE, 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CONVALESCENCE. 
 
 Weary weeks dragged their uncomfortable 
 length along. The weather was cold and blus- 
 tering, so that the children were almost wholly 
 confined to the house, and it was full and noisy, 
 inevitably. Marvel, who had been forced to sur- 
 render three of his toes as the penalty of his folly, 
 took cold after the amputation, and came near 
 enough to surrendering life itself to cause his 
 mother keen anxiety, and make a great deal of 
 care necessary. As he grew better he became 
 peevish, exacting, and fretful. He had been a 
 most trying child when well; noisy, obstinate, 
 and always stirring up strife. Sickness had but 
 developed a few other disagreeable qualities. 
 
 His constant cry, "Ma, ma!" at all hours of 
 the day and night, except while slje stood at his 
 very bedside ministering to him, was a weariness. 
 Sometimes she had scarcely returned to her bed 
 in the middle of the night, before it was heard 
 
CONVALESCENCE. 63 
 
 again ; and if she did not at once respond, it was 
 kept up till every one was awake and grumbling. 
 Felix often threatened the exasperating invalid 
 with a whipping ; but his mother would not have 
 her sick boy punished, and she was very gentle 
 and patient with him. 
 
 It was a great trial to her that she could not 
 provide him with better food. Felix had now and 
 then a day's work at the mill, though he worked 
 no more on Sundays. But the doctor had to be 
 paid, and medicines bought, and luxuries were 
 beyond their reach, even for the invalid. There 
 was, in truth, but little need. Marvel's appetite 
 needed no tempting. The doctor had ordered a 
 light diet. He must not be fed too much, nor 
 too often. But no sooner was one portion of food 
 disposed of, than he was begging and crying for 
 another. 
 
 " You 're starvin' m6 to death ! " he would say. 
 "I 'd give a thousand worlds full o' gold dollars 
 for a little piece o' bread. Give me a little, — 
 jest one crumb, to keep me from starvin'. Ye 
 won't? Ye don't care if I do die! Look at my 
 hands, how thin they are! That 's cause I 'm 
 starved." 
 
64 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 Hour after hour, day and night, he kept up 
 this talk, with little variation, till it became 
 wearisome in the extreme. Sometimes he would 
 add to his declaration that he was starving and 
 dying, "There! I'm dead!" And then, in a 
 pathetic undertone, "If ye 'd given me jest one 
 crumb o' bread, I should n't ha' died." 
 
 One pleasant thing occurred in those dreary 
 days, that lightened Martha's burden a little; 
 not only by giving employment to the children, 
 and keeping them quiet many an hour, but by 
 reminding her of what she sometimes almost for- 
 got, that God was caring; that he would help, 
 and bring light out of darkness, good out of evil, 
 at last. A package, — two packages, in fact, — 
 came to them through the mail. One, addressed 
 to Mrs. Martha Windom, proved to be a Bible — 
 a whole Bible! Martha looked upon it as a mine 
 of wealth for herself, and for her children, by and 
 by, when she could find time to read it. For the 
 present, she could only snatch a morsel now and 
 then to think over while about her work. 
 
 The other package was directed to Dean 
 Windom, and contained a roll of papers for young 
 folks. Some were religious, and some secular, 
 
CONVALESCENCE, 65 
 
 but all full of good, bright, and useful reading, 
 and delightful pictures. Dean had never seen 
 but one such paper in his life, and that he had 
 fairly worn out with reading; and many a time 
 he had given his mother a chance to rest a little, 
 while Marvel was sleeping, by telling and re-tell- 
 ing to the little ones the stories from that paper. 
 
 The assurance that Mr. Capen had not for- 
 gotten them when far away, they knew not where, 
 cheered them greatly. That he should take the 
 pains to send them these treasures was as gratify- 
 ing as it was wonderful. If that good man could 
 have known how dark was the night into which 
 he sent this little bit of sunsliine, how much of 
 hope and cheer and inspiration to well-doing it 
 brought, he would not have thought his labor 
 and expense ill bestowed. 
 
 The worst of times will pass, and Marvel at 
 last got so he could rise and sit at table, and eat 
 what he wished. Martha took the opportunity 
 while he was still confined to the house, to teach 
 him what she could of Bible truth, and try to 
 lead him to believe in, and love and obey his 
 Father in heaven. But Marvel was as intract- 
 able in this as in other things. He would listen 
 
66 BILLOW PRAIRIE, 
 
 sometimes with interest to accounts of the crea- 
 tion, the flood, and to Bible stories, but his heart 
 was untouched. 
 
 "Did God make cold and ice and snow?" he 
 asked one day. 
 
 "Yes; God made everything," replied his 
 mother. 
 
 "Cold made my foot get froze. God made 
 cold. I don't like God. Won't never like him. 
 He froze my foot," said Marvel. 
 
 "No," said his mother firmly. "Marvel, you 
 was to blame yourself for your frozen foot. You 
 got it wet, and then stayed out in the cold. 
 You was the one to blame." 
 
 "No," said Marvel obstinately. "God froze 
 my foot. Won't never like God." 
 
 Martha tried at different times to change this 
 feeling ; but it seemed as if the boy had found an 
 excuse for his perverseness that satisfied him, and 
 he could not be moved. 
 
DEATH. 67 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 DEATH. 
 
 February came, and the roof had not yet been 
 repaired. The poles that had been procured for 
 that purpose still lay on the ground at one end of 
 the cabin, and the snows had covered them, and 
 melted away, and re-covered them ; but every day 
 when it was sufficiently mild to allow the work 
 to be done, Felix had some excellent reason why 
 he could not do it. Dean's poor patching had 
 answered a purpose, and they had not suffered 
 greatly. 
 
 "To-morrer I '11 do that roof," he said one 
 afternoon, when the weather was rapidly moderat- 
 ing. "I 'd do it to-night, but it 's so late I don't 
 know as I 'd get it quite done. I '11 do it to- 
 morrer, sure." 
 
 But in the night, rain began to fall ; and before 
 Martha perceived it, for she slept heavily, the bed 
 was quite wet. Martha took a severe cold, and, 
 exhausted as she was by the long weeks of watch- 
 
68 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 ing and waking, labor and anxiety, she succumbed 
 at once. Pneumonia was developed, and the 
 doctor came only to tell the dismayed family that 
 it was too late. Nothing could save her. 
 
 Though she had not been told, Martha felt that 
 death was near. Dean, who sat day and night at 
 her pillow, with the baby in his arms, or in the 
 cradle at his feet, received her last charges. 
 
 "You '11 do the best you can for the children, 
 won't you. Dean? I don't see how it can be all 
 right for me to go and leave them. I can't see 
 how you '11 do without me. But God knows. 
 He would n't let it be so if it was n't all right. 
 I want you to believe in him always. Dean, and 
 do what the Book says, even when it 's hard, for 
 it '11 turn out all right in the end. And keep up 
 that reading, sonny. It 's been a benefit. It 's 
 been a wonderful benefit. Read every evening. 
 If pa won't do it, you do it." 
 
 At one time she murmured, "'Father of the 
 fatherless.' I 've seen that in the Book. It 
 must mean of the motherless just as much, for 
 mothers care a heap more 'n fathers. I '11 trust 
 Him." 
 
 "Dio, you '11 help Dean all you can, won't 
 
DEATH. 69 
 
 you? Take care of the little ones. Take care of 
 the poor baby, — bless her ! She must have a 
 name. Perhaps, Felix, you '11 call her Marthy. 
 We never named one after me, and if I 'm 
 a-going " — 
 
 "To be sure, we '11 call her Marthy. She 'd 
 ought to have had a name long ago. But you 
 ain't a-goin' ! You '11 get over this. We '11 have 
 another doctor. I doubt whether or no this one 
 knows much." 
 
 " It 's no use, Felix. I know, myself. I don't 
 need any doctor to tell me I 'm going. I ain't 
 afraid; but, oh! how can I leave them all? Do 
 take care of them, Felix, the best you can." 
 
 "Why, in course I will! Ain't I their father? 
 Don't fret, Marthy." 
 
 " ' He that spared not his own Son — he ' — say 
 it. Dean," said she feebly and falteringly. 
 
 Dean repeated the verse. "'He that spared not 
 his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how 
 shall he not with him also freely give us all 
 things?'" 
 
 " ' How shall he not, ' — that means, in course 
 he will. Don't ever forget that verse, Dean. 
 Romans is hard reading ; but that 's a wonderful 
 comforting verse." 
 
70 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "Marvie, dear, won't you love God? He loves 
 you, and he 's good — so good to us poor sinners. 
 Don't stand out against him like he was your 
 enemy." 
 
 Marvel, seated on a stool, with his feet resting 
 across a chair, was whittling a stick. He sat in 
 this attitude a good deal of the time, partly 
 because his feet were warmer when raised from 
 the floor, and he felt the cold very much. He 
 looked indifferently at his mother's appealing face, 
 and maintained an obstinate silence. "Won't 
 you, Marvie?" she besought him again, as if she 
 could not be denied. But she won no reply. 
 
 Sadly she turned her head upon her pillow. 
 " ' Freely give us all things, — freely give, ' 
 Marvie," she murmured; and her eyes closed 
 gently, and an expression of peace stole over her 
 face, and then settled into a solemn quietness that 
 lasted long. 
 
 "She 's asleep!" whispered Dio, holding up 
 her hand to enjoin silence. "Don't wake her. 
 If she sleeps a while maybe she '11 wake better." 
 
 They went about with hushed voices. Dean 
 jogged the cradle with his foot, that the baby's 
 nap might continue, and even Marvel's face grew 
 
DEATH. 71 
 
 gentler, and he did not once raise his loud, rude 
 voice. 
 
 "She sleeps longer than common," said Felix 
 at length, tiptoeing over to the back side of the 
 bed to look at her face. "Marthy, Marthy! 
 wake. Why, Marthy!" He turned her head on 
 the pillow. He took up one hand and felt it, and 
 then the other. He laid his hand on her heart, 
 and then he sat down on the side of the bed, 
 buried his face in his hands, and sobbed aloud. 
 
 The children, not slow to understand the 
 mystery, crowded around him and wept too. 
 The wail of sorrow filled the cabin. Marvel's 
 voice rose above all the rest. His cries of " Ma ! 
 ma! " were most pitiful to hear. 
 
 Death seldom comes to a home more desti- 
 tute of all needful things than was the home of 
 the Windoms. Felix left his children weeping 
 around the bed, while he went for a neighbor to 
 come to their assistance. John Faxon lived too 
 far away, but there was a house about a mile 
 distant, westward, where lived a family named 
 Williams. Toward this house he bent his steps. 
 
 Left alone with their dead mother, the children 
 cried more bitterly, and clung to Dean and Dio ; 
 
72 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 the baby wakened, and set up her shrill cry, to 
 swell the chorus. Half stupefied with sorrow, 
 Dean had but wept with the rest; but the baby's 
 voice aroused him to a sense of the necessity of 
 self-control. His mother had left the children in 
 his care. He must try to console and quiet them. 
 
 "Dio, do help me get Lottie and Rolfe to be 
 still. It frightens the baby to hear them cry so. 
 Marvel you must be still, or you '11 scare the baby 
 to death. Baby want some dinner?" 
 
 He ran to get some food for her. They had no 
 milk, and her food, since her mother's illness, had 
 been crackers, soaked in warm water to a pulpy 
 mess, and sweetened a little ; and this she sucked 
 out of a spoon. She seemed one of those for- 
 tunate little beings who can live and thrive 
 upon almost any fare, and was soon taking this 
 contentedly. 
 
 Marvel, who had but little strength, had become 
 so exhausted that he was willing to obey Dean's 
 injunction, and hobbled to his couch in the corner, 
 stretched himself upon it, and, burying his face in 
 his pillow, sobbed himself asleep. Having taken 
 her food, little Martha was so bright and full of 
 play that the younger ones were amused, and half 
 
DEATH. 73 
 
 forgot for a little while the sorrow that had 
 befallen them. 
 
 Presently the door opened, and a large, strong 
 woman came in, followed by a young girl. This 
 was Mrs. Williams and her daughter Carrie. 
 They took the chairs that Dio offered them, and 
 sat resting, the silence being broken only by an 
 occasional audible sigh from the woman, as she 
 looked round upon the little group about her, and 
 once by her exclamation, — 
 
 " Poor motherless creturs ! " 
 
 This silence was oppressive to the little ones. 
 They were filled with awe of the silent stranger, 
 and they began to realize again, to its full extent, 
 the misery that had lifted its weight from their 
 spirits for a few moments; their tears began to 
 flow afresh. 
 
 "Poor things! No wonder you cry! 'T would 
 be strange if you did n't," said she. "Well, we 
 must make the best of what 's got to be. Have 
 you got any curtain, or anything you could use to 
 divide off this room?" addressing Dio. 
 
 Dio brought such material as she could find, 
 and several other things that Mrs. Williams asked 
 for, and helped to put up the curtain ; after which 
 
74 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 the two strangers disappeared behind it, and were 
 seen no more for some time. 
 
 The children sat in sorrowful silence, wonder- 
 ing much what could be going on in the curtained 
 room, but rather relieved by the absence of the 
 stranger; for her heavy sighs and mournful face 
 had not made the burden on their hearts lighter. 
 At last Dio was called, and was absent from their 
 sight a little while. Lottie began to cry aloud. 
 Vinnie sobbed again, and it was dreadfully lonely 
 in the kitchen till she came back. 
 
 "What are they doing?" asked Dean, in a 
 whisper. 
 
 "Only fixing poor ma up right clean in her 
 best things, and making the bed nice and smooth," 
 said Dio. 
 
 This simple explanation brought great relief. 
 They had feared they knew not what. They 
 were unfamiliar with death, and the sad necessi- 
 ties it brings, but they had vague ideas, scarcely 
 less painful than the reality. 
 
 " You can come and look at your ma now, if 
 you would like to," said Mrs. Williams, in a 
 very solemn and impressive manner, holding the 
 curtain aside so that they could look in upon the 
 bed. 
 
DEATH. 75 
 
 They drew near timidly, and peeped over each 
 other's shoulders, as if they could summon cour- 
 age to look only by clinging close together. 
 What they saw was all very unnatural, unlife- 
 like. The bed, draped in a white sheet, instead 
 of the dark patchwork quilt to which they were 
 accustomed, the stiff, straight form lying there 
 with upturned face and folded hands, seemed 
 strange and awful. Lottie cried aloud, more 
 from terror than grief this time. 
 
 Mrs. Williams put down the curtain, and made 
 an honest effort to soothe the child, but it was 
 evident that she had no great ability in this 
 line. Whatever kindness may have been in her 
 heart, it did not show itself in her manner. Her 
 daughter was shy and constrained, and scarcely 
 spoke at all. Lottie could only be appeased by a 
 place in Dean's lap. So he gave the baby to Dio, 
 and held her close in his arms till she ceased her 
 sobbing and at last fell asleep. 
 
 Mrs. Williams was to stay with the children till 
 their father returned. She was a good woman, 
 and really felt kindly toward the poor orphans. 
 She began to tell them of heaven, where she 
 believed their mother had gone. 
 
76 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "Your pa tells me she loved her Bible, and 
 tried hard to do right, even when the right way- 
 was n't the easy way, so I make no doubt she 's 
 got there. You must be good children, and then 
 when you die you '11 see her, and be with her 
 again." 
 
 This was not altogether new teaching, but it 
 came to the children with new interest now. 
 Heaven had seemed a very far off and indefinite 
 place. But now that their mother was there, it 
 was different. 
 
 " I wish you would tell us all you know about 
 heaven — every little bit of a thing," said Dean. 
 
 " Well, it 's in the Bible that there 's no night 
 there. They need no candle nor the light of the 
 sun. Then there 's no scorching hot days, and 
 no cold winter storms. I reckon it 's all the time 
 like the very pleasantest day you ever saw, only 
 nicer yet." 
 
 " Oh, tell more ! " — as Mrs. Williams seemed 
 to have come to an end of her description. She 
 was pleased with her success in interesting them, 
 and racked her brain for more recollections of 
 Scripture. 
 
 " They sing, and every one has a gold harp to 
 
DEATH. 77 
 
 play on, and a gold crown to wear. I don*t 
 reckon they need any teaching, to know how to 
 play them harps. It just comes natural like sing- 
 ing, I take it, though I don't know as I can give 
 Scripture for that. And they go dressed in white, 
 every day." 
 
 " Aprons ? " asked Dio. 
 
 "Well, no; more like dresses, I reckon, " replied 
 Mrs. Williams. " It says robes. That means 
 clothes of some kind." 
 
 "I always wanted a white dress, "said Dio. "I 
 never had one since I was a baby. Ma said I had 
 one then. But this baby never had nothing but 
 calico." 
 
 At this point Felix opened the door and came 
 in, interrupting the conversation. 
 
 "Well, you get on fine with the children, I 
 see," said he. 
 
 "I would stay longer," she replied, "but it 's 
 most night now, and Mr. Williams away, and I 
 have to be home. I would take the baby home 
 with me, only she seems some shy of strangers, 
 and I don't know but she 'd cry." 
 
 "Oh, she would," said Dean earnestly. He 
 had no mind to part with the baby. It would be 
 
78 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 too lonesome in the house without her. " Don't, 
 pa, send the baby away." 
 
 "Well, well," said Mrs. Williams, not over 
 anxious for the charge. "I only spoke of it be- 
 cause I did n't know as you 'd think you could 
 get along with such a little baby. But Dio is a 
 big girl, and you seem proper handy with her for 
 a boy; and seeing she 's some shy of strangers, 
 maybe 't would n't be best on the whole." 
 
 "I reckon we '11 get along with her," said 
 Felix. "She 's a mighty peaceable little thing." 
 
 As Mrs. Williams was just going. Dean pressed 
 up to her side, saying, — 
 
 " Will you tell me one thing more ? Where is 
 it in the Bible that it tells about heaven?" 
 
 "Oh, in the last part. Revelation mostly," she 
 replied, as she and her silent daughter hurried 
 away. 
 
 Soon after. Marvel, who had been sleeping 
 through the whole of her stay, awoke and fretted 
 for his supper. Dio hurried to get it ready, and 
 the bereaved family drew about the table. The 
 meal was eaten in silence almost unbroken. The 
 3^ounger ones were tired and sleepy, and all were 
 sad and weary. 
 
DEATH. 79 
 
 Dean, as usual, brought his Testament when 
 the meal was finished. 
 
 "Yes, yes, read the Book to us. Dean, "said his 
 father. "She liked it so, and we '11 try to keep 
 up to her ways, won't we, children? Poor 
 Marthy ! how she did keep up the reading to be 
 sure, when she had n't but the one leaf to read 
 out 'n," and he drew his sleeve across his eyes. 
 
 Dean found his place and read the chapter. All 
 the time he was reading, a struggle was going on 
 in the father's mind. 
 
 "If I 'm ever a-goiii' in deep for religion, 
 now 's the time, and I ought to pray after the 
 readin', sure!" was the thought conscience was 
 pressing upon him. "It would please Marthy 
 uncommon if I should." 
 
 Dean closed the book. 
 
 "Maybe some other time I will," was the decis- 
 ion, in the minute that was left for deciding 
 before the children rose and left the table. 
 
80 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 marvel's change. 
 
 John Faxon came next day and made the 
 coffin. It was too cold to work out-doors, so 
 there was no alternative but to make it in the 
 cabin. The sound of saw and hammer and plane 
 were heard there most of the day. The children 
 stood around watching, interested in every stroke ; 
 for so monotonous were their lives, that even the 
 making of their mother's coffin was not without 
 an element of pleasurable excitement. Dean 
 alone was excepted, for the baby, terrified at the 
 stranger, and the noise he made, cried so much 
 that he was obliged to stay with her in the cur- 
 tained inclosure beside his dead mother. There 
 was nothing about that cold, still form that 
 seemed to him like the dear mother he had 
 known. There was small comfort in looking at 
 it. 
 
 He got his Testament, and over the baby's 
 shoulder, whenever she would allow him a mo- 
 
MABVEVS CHANGE. 81 
 
 ment's respite from talking to and soothing her, 
 he tried to find the chapters in Revelation that 
 told about heaven. He read the last two chapters 
 all through with deep interest. 
 
 "I can't understand it all," he said with a sigh, 
 " but there are wonderful pleasant things in it. I 
 wonder if ma has seen those twelve gates yet. 
 Oh, I wonder if — why, yes, I do believe she has 
 seen Jesus already! " 
 
 A strange yearning took possession of him, and 
 led him to go and turn down the sheet, and look 
 again upon the dead face ; but the solemn, fixed 
 expression chilled his heart, and he covered it 
 hastily. The baby had fallen asleep at last, and 
 he ventured to carry her out and lay her in the 
 cradle; and, as she did not wake, he sat beside 
 her watching the advancing work with the rest. 
 
 Marvel had been quite gleeful since the sawing 
 and hammering began. He had hobbled about 
 the carpenter, so eager to help that he became 
 troublesome ; and John Faxon, who was a rude, 
 uncultured fellow, spoke roughly to him. 
 
 " You seem in a mighty hurry to get your mar's 
 coffin made, 'pears to me. I sh'd think you 'd 
 have some nateral feelin's. Don't yer know when 
 
82 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 yer ma is put inter this here box, and kerried off, 
 and put in the ground, she won't never come back 
 no more ? " 
 
 Marvel turned white. His under jaw fell, and 
 he stood with open mouth, speechless, looking at 
 the brutal speaker. Not till this moment had he 
 realized the whole painful truth. There was a 
 minute of dead silence; for John, rough as he 
 was, perceived what a terrible shock he had given 
 the poor child, and stopped his work in a spasm 
 of regret. 
 
 Dean hurried to his side, and putting an arm 
 round his neck, said softly, " Ma 's gone to heaven, 
 Marvel, and heaven is a beautiful place." 
 
 Marvel appeared to hear nothing, to see noth- 
 ing, though his eyes were still on John Faxon's 
 face. The silence was broken at last by a cry so 
 loud and bitter in its anguish, that the carpenter 
 was fain to put his hands to his ears, his pity 
 changing to anger at the hideous sound. But it 
 had been far easier to awaken Marvel's grief than 
 it was to allay it. For a while it found expression 
 in cries and howls that were scarcely human in 
 their character. Then, as his strength began to 
 fail, these were succeeded by a low wailing, 
 
MARVEL'S CHANGE. 83 
 
 scarcely less trying to hear. Then words were 
 intermingled, of which not much was distinguish- 
 able but "Ma, ma! O ma, ma, ma! " 
 
 John Faxon was glad to get through with his 
 work, and get out of the house. 
 
 Felix had been absent most of the day, digging 
 a grave for his wife. He returned just as the 
 carpenter was leaving. In obedience to his stern 
 commands, Marvel hushed his cries, and hiding 
 his face in his pillow, as usual, sought solace in 
 sleep. But even here his grief broke out afresh 
 now and again, and defied all authority to check 
 its expression for a while. He ate no supper, 
 which was a strange thing to be told of Marvel. 
 
 As the time of the funeral drew near next day, 
 the neighbors from a radius of four or five miles 
 began to come, till the cabin was full. Many who 
 had never taken the trouble to prove themselves 
 friendly by a neighborly call, came now to see the 
 poor woman buried. There was no minister to 
 preach a funeral sermon; but an aged Christian 
 neighbor read a portion of Scripture, and prayed 
 beside the coffin, and spoke kindly to the bereaved 
 ones of the home to which the dear one had gone. 
 
 Marvel had been reasonably quiet during the 
 
84 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 exercises, though at times his low, sorrowful cry- 
 was heard for a few minutes, before his father, 
 who sat beside him, could check it. But when 
 the coffin was taken up to be carried out, his grief 
 broke over all restraint. He cried "Ma,, ma! 
 O ma! I will be good! I will love God! I 
 would n't say it when you wanted me to, but I 
 will do anything! jest whatever you want, ma, 
 only don't — don't go away, and never come back 
 no more ! 
 
 "You sha'n't carry my ma away, and bury her 
 in the ground! You sha'n't! It's cold! awful 
 cold, out-doors! " and he sliuddered heavily, and 
 threw himself across the coffin in a vain attempt 
 to hold it from the bearers, who stood around 
 waiting to perform their office. 
 
 There was no quieting him; and it was neces- 
 sary to carry away the coffin amid all his crying, 
 and his despair at the removal was a piteous 
 sight. He threw himself upon the floor, he cared 
 not where, buried his face in his arms, and wailed 
 till exhaustion hushed his cries, and sleep over- 
 came him. 
 
 Dean, who remained at home to comfort him, 
 if possible, having been unable to get his brother 
 
MARVEL'S CHANGE. 85 
 
 to listen to a word, sat down beside him on the 
 floor, while tears flowed freely down his cheeks. 
 He had never felt any love for Marvel — a big, 
 ugly fellow, who had teased and tormented him 
 from his earliest remembrance. But now a 
 brotherly tenderness sprang up in his heart, and 
 a feeling somewhat akin to that of the mother- 
 care, a solicitude for him in his mental weakness, 
 was born of that hour; and he stroked the rough 
 head and the clammy brown hand beside him 
 almost as tenderly as she would have done. 
 
 When Marvel's heavy, sonorous breathing told 
 that for the present his sorrow was lost in uncon- 
 sciousness, Dean brought a pillow, and, lifting his 
 brother's head, crowded it under as best he could. 
 He failed altogether in making him comfortable, 
 for Marvel moved away from it directly ; but the 
 attempted kindness expressed and fanned the new 
 feeling of affection. 
 
 In the days that succeeded the funeral it was 
 plain that Marvel was changed. He was quiet 
 and melancholy. He did not tease the younger 
 children. Sometimes, when tired, he was exceed- 
 ingly restless and fretful; but he kneeled every 
 night with Dean beside his bed, and remained on 
 
86 BILLOW PliAIRIE. 
 
 his knees till his brother arose. This was a thing 
 he had steadily refused to do while his mother 
 lived. 
 
 One day he said to Dean, "I'm goin' to read. 
 Ma wanted me to learn, and I would n't. Now 
 I will. Gimme your little Testament book." 
 
 Dean brought it. He always kept it carefully 
 wrapped in a bit of clean cloth. It was not soiled 
 or injured in the least. He took off the wrapper 
 and put it in Marvel's hand. 
 
 Marvel could scarcely read at all. He had for- 
 gotten most of the little he ever learned. With 
 a good deal of help from Dean, he spelled out two 
 or three verses, and then, in a sudden fit of impa- 
 tience because he did not get on better, threw the 
 book as far as he could, exclaiming, — 
 
 " I can't read ! I hate readin' ! " 
 
 Dean flew after his book, which had landed in 
 the water-pail. Fortunately it was nearly empty, 
 and it was not much wet. He wiped the covers 
 tenderly. 
 
 "Marv! You are bad! How could you do 
 that to my little book?" he said severely. 
 
 "I ain't bad! Water won't hurt it none!" 
 said Marvel carelessly. "Make it cleaner," and 
 
MARVEL'S CHANGE. 87 
 
 he grinned foplishly. Marvel very rarely laughed 
 out like other boys. 
 
 " It was bad to treat God's book so. I sha'n't 
 let you take it any more," said Dean. 
 
 " God's book ? " said Marvel inquiringly. " It 's 
 your book." 
 
 " The Bible is God's book, because he made it, 
 and gave it to folks, — oh, long ago, I expect. 
 This is a little bit of the Bible — not the whole 
 of it. So it is a part of God's book, is n't it?" 
 
 "Don't know! Did n't think of that. Reckon 
 I am bad. I promised to love God. Give me the 
 book again. I '11 read a bit more, and I won't 
 throw it, sure." 
 
 "No," said Dean. "It's wet now. It must 
 get all dry before it 's used any more." 
 
 " 'T ain't wet. There was n't any water in the 
 pail hardly," said Marvel obstinately. "Give it 
 to me, I say." 
 
 "No," said Dean firmly. "Not till it 's dry. 
 I '11 read a little to you out of ma's Bible, if you 
 want me to. You can understand it better if I 
 read to you." 
 
 But Marvel was out of temper, and he stormed 
 and threatened. Then he fretted and whined. 
 
88 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 Finally he threw himself on the bed and lay with 
 his face turned to the wall, till Dean thought and 
 hoped he was asleep. When Marvel fell asleep 
 in the daytime, he usually slept several hours ; so 
 Dean promised himself a long, quiet time for 
 reading. The weather had changed, and was 
 mild and pleasant, so that every child who had 
 anything in the shape of shoes was out-doors. 
 Rolfe was shoeless, and he had had a chill that 
 morning. So he sat quiet in the corner listening 
 to the reading. 
 
 Rolfe was a thoughtful child. More sickness 
 had fallen to his lot than to any of the others. 
 He scarcely knew his letters ; but he liked stories, 
 and Dean was reading of Peter's deliverance from 
 prison by the angel. 
 
 "If I 'd a been Rhoda, I 'd have opened the 
 door right away, and said, 'Come in quick, Peter, 
 'fore they get you again,' " said Rolfe. 
 
 "They could n't get him again," said Dean. 
 
 "Why not?" asked Rolfe. 
 
 "Why, if the Lord sent an angel to let him 
 out, and did n't let the soldiers catch him as he 
 went by, do you 'spose he 'd let them catch him 
 before he got home?" 
 
MARVEL'S CHANGE. 89 
 
 "I don't hardly 'spect he would," said Rolfe. 
 "But I 'd have let him in right away, any how." 
 
 "So would I! " said a voice from the bed, and 
 a shaggy head was raised to look round upon 
 them. 
 
 "Ho! you been awake all this time?" said 
 Rolfe. " How 'd you manage to keep so still? " 
 
 "Let me take ma's Bible. I '11 read, and I 
 won't throw it, sure." 
 
 Dean gave the book into his hands, saying, 
 "Hold it careful; and don't try to read but a 
 verse or two, and then rest. You '11 get on, if 
 you do a little every day." 
 
 Marvel was rarely willing to take advice from 
 his younger brother ; but a better mood had pre- 
 vailed, and he held the book with care, turning 
 the leaves as if in search of something. " There 's 
 such a lot of it, and the readin's so thick together 
 a feller can't find nothin'," said he. "You find 
 ma's verse for me. That one she thought such a 
 heap of." 
 
 Dean was at no loss to understand. He had a 
 mark at that place. He pointed out the verse 
 with his finger, amd Marvel slowly read it aloud. 
 When he had finished he gave back the book and 
 
90 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 lay down again. By and by he said gloomily, 
 "'Freely give us all things/ don't mean he '11 
 give me back my toes, I reckon. 'Spect I 've got 
 to be a poor lame feller." 
 
 "I know a verse about that! I can't say it, 
 but I can find it," said Dean cheerily, turning the 
 leaves with eager haste. " Ma found it first, and 
 't was a heap of comfort to her when she felt bad 
 about your toes." 
 
 "Did she feel bad?" said Marvel. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! She cried, " said Dean. " Here 's 
 the verse. See! She put a bit of the baby's pink 
 dress in to mark the place." 
 
 Marvel stretched himself off the side of the bed, 
 which he had not yet left, and looked with inter- 
 est at the mark his mother had left in the book. 
 "Read it out," he said. 
 
 Dean read, " ' For he doth not afflict willingly 
 nor grieve the children of men.' Ma said that 
 showed as how there must be a good reason when 
 he lets trouble come. She said he could see how 
 everything was going to be in our lives, and if 
 he sees that you could get on better without your 
 toes" — 
 
 "I could n't! — how better without my toes?" 
 
MARVEL'S CHANGE. 91 
 
 said Marvel impatiently. "I don't like it! I 
 want to run fast." 
 
 "I don't know how. Ma didn't know how, 
 either. But the verse gave her a heap of comfort, 
 she said." 
 
 "Read it again," demanded Marvel. 
 
 Dean read it again, and then again. 
 
 " Not willingly 'flict, " repeated Marvel. " 'Flict 
 means hurt, I reckon. But I don't understand it. 
 Only I promised to love God." 
 
 This promise seemed to settle, for Marvel, all 
 question of submission to God's will. His feeble 
 intellect had grasped this truth — that love to 
 God means obedience, submission, trust. He felt 
 that he had been bad. Henceforth he was bound 
 by his promise to be good. But it was only in 
 trying to be good that he learned how bad he was. 
 The ugly, contrary spirit was constantly uprising. 
 This, and teasing the children, were the sins he 
 daily and hourly had to contend with. 
 
 "I am bad! — a heap bad," he would say after 
 some fresh outbreak of the old naughtiness. 
 
 One point in which he was entirely changed 
 was the frankness with which he declared his 
 purpose to be good. Formerly he had seemed 
 
92 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 ashamed of nothing so much as any good impulses. 
 Now the presence of his father, or even of 
 strangers, did not prevent the utterance of that 
 one sentence that settled everything on the right 
 side, when he was tempted to evil. " I promised 
 to love God." It seemed as if there was no doubt 
 that Marvel's heart was fully set to obey God. 
 
 And, because of this, a new relation was begin- 
 ning to be established between him and Dean — a 
 fraternal relation. They were brothers, but they 
 had not been brotherly. Marvel had been, to 
 Dean, a bully, overbearing, menacing, oppressing, 
 by reason of superior strength of body; Dean's 
 attitude had been that of dislike and avoidance. 
 They had had nothing in common. Now the 
 new growth of soul in each was drawing them 
 together. They had become brothers in Christ 
 Jesus. 
 
 Yet they still had their difficulties, as brothers 
 will. Dean's mental superiority fitted him to 
 lead and direct. Marvel's false pride, which was 
 not to be conquered soon or easily, made it hard 
 to take the advice and follow the directions of his 
 younger brother. That he did so, even with fre- 
 quent lapses, told of a radical change. 
 
A GARDEN. 93 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 A GARDEN. 
 
 Dio was becoming more and more the com- 
 panion and assistant of her father out-of-doors. 
 She was strong and hardy, and liked much better 
 to be working in the woods, at the coal-bank, or 
 walking the seven miles to the store, than to be 
 indoors doing housework. She would have gone 
 with him to the mill; but the father saw fit to 
 draw the line here, and would not permit it. He 
 protested sometimes when she joined him on other 
 occasions, but not too strongly; for he enjoyed 
 the company of his bold, strong, wide-awake girl. 
 And though he often told her she would look 
 much better tending the baby, and doing the 
 housework, he realized that the little Martha 
 would thrive better under Dean's care than under 
 hers. 
 
 Dean was so watchful and so wise in mana- 
 ging the little one, that though she rarely had 
 anything but her graham gruel to eat, she had 
 
94 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 never yet had a sick day. Her cheeks were 
 round and rosy, and her bead-like black eyes 
 shone with health and roguishness. 
 
 As for the effect this changing of duties was to 
 have upon the characters of his twin boy and girl, 
 Felix gave little thought to that. It had never 
 been his way to trouble himself over much about 
 the future. Dean kept the simple household 
 machinery running with tolerable smoothness, 
 with what help he could get from the younger 
 ones, till the time came when a wash-day could 
 no longer be put off. Then, after repeated ur- 
 gings, Felix stayed at home for a day: the big 
 brass kettle filled with water was hung in the 
 old stone fireplace, the stove being moved aside 
 for the time, and a roaring brush fire kept under 
 it, and they had a grand wash, with clouds of 
 steam, and a deal of commotion in the cabin. It 
 was a gala day to the little ones, notwithstanding 
 the fact that they were confined to the bed, so 
 that all their clothing might be washed; and when 
 the clouds of steam rose up and filled the room, 
 and shut them in, there was laughter and riot 
 enough. 
 
 It was a wonder that little Martha did not take 
 
A GARDEN. 95 
 
 cold in all the dampness and chill, for the door 
 was open much of the time ; but she seemed fitted 
 for her lot by a vigorous constitution, that defied 
 ordinary exposure. Her gleeful shouts mingled 
 with those of the others, and gave zest to their 
 fun. 
 
 The spring promised to be an early one, and 
 Dean began to think anxiously about a garden. 
 That had always been his mother's care; for 
 Felix's ideas and plans were far too magnificent 
 to condescend to take much interest in so small 
 an affair as a garden, except that, as a concession 
 to the weakness and urgency of woman, he some- 
 times helped to prepare the ground by plowing, 
 if he could get the loan of a neighbor's horse; 
 otherwise, by turning over the ground with a 
 spade, which he generally could borrow. 
 
 There was a piece of ground behind the 
 house that had once been broken up and culti- 
 vated, though, from long neglect, it now differed 
 little from the unbroken prairie. This piece of 
 ground Dean's heart was set on converting into a 
 garden. There were in the house a few carefully 
 preserved packages of seed, and Dean was eager 
 to begin operations. He began to urge the matter 
 of plowing. 
 
96 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 "I *ve got Faxon's promise that he' 11 break up 
 an acre for me, for every three days' work I do for 
 him; and we '11 have eight or ten acres of corn, 
 and some potatoes and sorghum. How '11 you 
 like that? sorghum to eat on your cakes next 
 winter, and potatoes a plenty! And I '11 put 
 in some pumkins and watermelons, — heaps of 
 'em! How '11 you like that? But I can't be 
 fussin' with gardins." 
 
 "But, pa," urged Dean, "we '11 be so glad of 
 some beans, or a little early corn in the summer. 
 And some onions! You like onions and cab- 
 bages. Ma saved the seed so careful! " 
 
 " Wall, when I get time. Ground 's too cold 
 yet, I reckon." 
 
 This little dialogue was rehearsed so many 
 times that Dean, seeing that the time for planting 
 was fully come, grew disheartened. 
 
 "We sha'n't have any garden at all," he cried 
 with bitterness, as he saw his father walk away 
 one fine morning; not to the mill, for there was 
 no work there for him, nor to Mr. Faxon's, but 
 to the store around which a village was growing, 
 and where there were generally a few idle loungers 
 to listen to Felix's stories. 
 
The Garden. 
 
c I t e c ; 
 
A GARDEN. 97 
 
 "Reckon I could dig some," said Marvel, who 
 had now recovered his strength, but of whom not 
 much work had yet been expected. 
 
 "So can I, "said Dio, who had not been allowed 
 to go with her father. " Let 's set to and make 
 the garden ourselves. It '11 be a shame not to 
 have any. I want to plant my marigolds." 
 
 They at once armed themselves with every 
 implement that could by any possibility be used 
 to dig up the soil. Marvel took the fire-shovel; 
 Dio, an old hoe that had seen hard service, and 
 was dulled and blunted and worn off at the 
 corners ; Dean, the remains of a barn-shovel, weak 
 in the back, and broken in the handle; Rolfe 
 could find nothing more serviceable than a large 
 iron spoon. The baby and Lottie were to be 
 Vinnie's charge, though she had no idea of remain- 
 ing in the house with them ; but, putting an old 
 hood on the little Martha's head, tugged her 
 about while she watched the operations of the 
 others, and little Lottie followed close at her 
 heels. 
 
 The sod was almost as tough and hard as if it 
 had never been broken up. Marvel was too much 
 like his father to enjoy hard work ; and the long 
 
98 BILLOW PBAIIUE. 
 
 interval of inaction had made his muscles soft, 
 and he was soon tired. Dio worked vigorously, 
 but to little purpose ; and Dean, brave and earn- 
 est as he was, soon exhausted his small degree 
 of strength. And the amount they had accom- 
 plished, when at the end of half an hour of hard 
 work they stopped to rest and wipe the per- 
 spiration from their faces, was ludicrously small. 
 
 "We never can do it! " said Dio. 
 
 "It 's got to be plowed, sure! " said Dean. 
 
 " Got to be plowed, sure ! " gasped Marvel. 
 "Lemme get my breath, and I '11 go and get John 
 Faxon." 
 
 " Oh, you can't get him! He won't come," said 
 Dio, feasting on ladies' sorrel as she lay reclining 
 on the ground. "I don't see what we are going to 
 do. If I had a spade that would dig I could do it, 
 but there 's nobody hereabouts to borrow of." 
 
 "I '11 go for John. He 's boun' fur to come! " 
 persisted Marvel. " Got to be plowed, this has ! " 
 
 "I would n't go," said Dean wearily. "It 's a 
 long tramp over there, and he just won't come." 
 
 "Goin', anyhow," said Marvel obstinately. 
 "He 's boun' fur to come," and he rose, and 
 limped away. 
 
A GABDEN. 99 
 
 It was a long tramp; but Marvel pushed on 
 with dogged patience, till he drew near the little 
 cluster of buildings — straw-sheds they were 
 mostly — around John Faxon's cabin. 
 
 "Got things mighty comf 'table. Wish 't we 
 could have cows and horses like him, " commented 
 Marvel. 
 
 A woman, comely in smoothly braided hair and 
 blue gingham dress, stood at the door as he 
 walked into the yard. 
 
 "Where 's John Faxon?" said Marvel, without 
 a thought of removing his cap. 
 
 " Oh, he 's about somewheres. What you want 
 of him?" inquired the woman. 
 
 "Want him to come over," said Marvel. 
 
 "Why? You ain't none of you sick, be you?" 
 
 " Sick o' diggin' — that 's all, I reckon. We 
 can't never dig up that gardin. Want him to 
 come over and plow it." 
 
 "H'mph! reckon you brought along the money 
 to pay him for leavin' his work in the hurryin' 
 season, and goin' off three miles to plow a 
 gardin," said the woman sharply. 
 
 "I '11 pay him. He hain't got nary boy to 
 drop corn for him. I '11 drop corn to pay," said 
 Marvel. 
 
100 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "Here he comes! He '11 speak for himself, I 
 reckon." 
 
 " Hullo, Marv ! What is it ? " said John Faxon, 
 as he came up to the door. 
 
 Marvel stated his errand, with the promise to 
 drop corn in payment. 
 
 "Can't do it, nohow," said John with decided 
 emphasis. "I 'm pushed this way and t' other; 
 my work' s gettin' all ahead of me, and I can't 
 do fast enough. Such soft weather everything 
 wants doin' all to once." 
 
 " Dean 's sot on a gardin. We can't dig it up. 
 Most killed ourselves tryin'. I told 'em I 'd get 
 ye to plow. I 've come all these three miles 
 after ye, and yer boun' fur to come." 
 
 John looked at Marvel meditatively, and then 
 remarked, "Lame some, ain't you?" 
 
 "Yes; always got to be, I reckon, "said Marvel. 
 "Ain't good for much, but I can drop corn. I '11 
 come and drop fur ye, stiddy, jest as long as yer 
 say. Only ye 're boun' to come and plow that 
 gardin." 
 
 " I reckon I 'm bound to stay home and do my 
 own work," returned John. "But come in and 
 have a bite of dinner. It 's noon by the sun, and 
 I 'm ready for it, and I hope it 's ready for me." 
 
A GABDEN. 101 
 
 Marvel's face brightened at this invitation. It 
 brightened still more when he viewed the heaping 
 bowl of potatoes, and the ample supply of boiled 
 corned beef. He needed no second invitation to 
 "fall to;" and so diligent was he in his applica- 
 tion to this rare treat, that he spoke not one word 
 till the last potato had vanished from sight. 
 
 "Wisht we had pertaters to plant in our 
 gardin. Let us have a few for seed, I reckon, 
 can't ye?" he remarked as he pushed back his 
 chair. "Will ye come now, and plow?" 
 
 John Faxon laughed. " How you do stick to a 
 feller!" he said. "I told you I couldn't go 
 nohow." 
 
 "But ye 're boun' to come! I '11 drop corn 
 for yer, and for the pertaters too." 
 
 " Why am I bound to come ? I never agreed to 
 do your plowin' for you," said John. 
 
 " We can't get nobody else, and Dean 's boun' 
 fur to have a gardin," said Marvel. 
 
 John laughed again. He was amused, even 
 while he was annoyed, at the persistence of the 
 boy. He looked doubtfully at his wife, to see if 
 he could find out what she thought he had 
 better do. 
 
102 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "You 've got to go to Williams's after that 
 harrow to-morrow; 't would n't be much out of 
 your way, and the plowing would n't take no 
 great while, I don't reckon," said she, replying 
 to the look. 
 
 "And you ain't so very partic'ler about the job 
 of droppin' the corn but what you could give it 
 up, hey? Well, I don't know as I blame you. 
 'T aint a woman's work nohow. But what if this 
 chap ain't ready to drop when I 'm ready to 
 cover? That 's apt to be the way when folks 
 get their pay aforehand." 
 
 "I will be," said Marvel earnestly. "Ye 
 need n't be 'feared, for I '11 come whensoever ye 
 say, night or day." 
 
 "I reckon 't won't be night. Come on then, 
 and we '11 rig up the team, and I '11 go right 
 along now, jest as well as to-morrow, and save 
 you walkin' home. They say the lame and the 
 lazy is pervided for. You 're one, for certain; 
 and I 'm bound to find out whether or no you 're 
 t' other. Emily," calling back to his wife, "you 
 can be puttin' up a few potaters, if you think we 
 can spare 'em. They ought to have a few to 
 plant, sure ! " 
 
A GARDEN. 103 
 
 A little after noon Dean and Dio were a good 
 deal surprised to see Marvel riding home beside 
 John Faxon ; and when, in the course of the after- 
 noon, they saw the soil of their garden over 
 which they had labored so hard in vain, turned 
 up mellow and brown, ready for planting, their 
 joy was great. And when the bag of potatoes 
 was taken out, and they comprehended that they 
 were for them to plant, they had no words to 
 express their pleasure. And John Faxon, rough 
 and uncultured as he was, had too much of the 
 milk of human kindness in his veins not to take 
 some pleasure in their evident gratification. He 
 volunteered some directions as to cutting and 
 planting the potatoes, and laying out the garden, 
 and then drove away, leaving Marvel vociferat- 
 ing his promises to "come and work faithful 
 whensoever you say, night or day." 
 
 The accidental jingle of the words had pleased 
 Marvel's ear so much that he had reiterated them 
 till the promise could not fail to stick fast in his 
 own memory, and in due time it was faithfully 
 redeemed. 
 
104 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 
 
 Day after day Dean worked diligently at 
 laying out and planting the garden, assisted 
 sometimes by Marvel or Dio, or both. They had 
 coaxed their father into buying a hoe; and the 
 gift of a bicycle would be less of an event to 
 many boys, than was the acquisition of that 
 bright new hoe to the young gardeners. 
 
 They were all out at work one fine day, when 
 a man on horseback was seen approaching. 
 
 "It looks like Mr. Capen," said Dio, "but it 
 can't be." 
 
 "It is Mr. Capen!" said Dean joyfully, throw- 
 ing down his hoe, and running to meet the ad- 
 vancing horseman. 
 
 It was, indeed, their friend. He seemed 
 greatl}' pleased to see them again, and heard 
 with sincere sympathy their story of loss and 
 sorrow. He took little Martha in his arms and 
 
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 105 
 
 kissed her, and praised the care that had kept her 
 so plump and clean and well. 
 
 Marvel, who had avoided him on his first visit, 
 was now as eager as any to be near him, and hear 
 every word he spoke. 
 
 "Will you stay all night?" asked Dio. 
 "We '11 do our best for you if you will." 
 
 "I thank you," said Mr. Capen, "but I am 
 obliged to get on as fast as possible, as I have an 
 engagement to meet, but passing so near, I could 
 not miss of seeing you all." 
 
 He asked many questions concerning the 
 death of their mother, and how they had got on 
 since; frank, kindly questions, such as a dear 
 and deeply interested friend would ask. Every- 
 thing was told him without reserve, even Marvel 
 answering freely, and making known all his 
 stubbornness in refusing his mother's last re- 
 quest, and his repentance when it was too late. 
 Mr. Capen was very wise in drawing him out, 
 and when he saw that the poor lad, wrought up 
 to a pitch of excitement by his own painful story, 
 would soon give way to violent weeping, turned 
 to the others, and gave him time to regain his 
 self-control. 
 
106 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 "Eh! but it's awful hard to be good! Can't 
 remember it half the time! " remarked Marvel. 
 
 " Ask God to help you, dear boy ! And remem- 
 ber that he still loves you and counts you his 
 dear child, though you fall ever so many times, 
 if you only keep right on trying, and don't 
 give it up. What do you ask for when you pray 
 to him?" 
 
 " I heard the rest say, ' Now I lay me ' so often 
 that I learned it," said Marvel. "I say that, and 
 'I promise to love God.' That 's all I say." 
 
 "That 's very well," said Mr. Capen, "but you 
 might add this, 'Give me the Holy Spirit to 
 teach me and help me to be good, and forgive my 
 sins for Jesus 's sake. ' " 
 
 "Yes; I will," said Marvel. 
 
 " And you, " said Mr. Capen to Dean, "do you 
 read your little book a good deal ? " 
 
 "Yes; and ma's Bible too," said Dean. "I 
 can read better than I could when you came 
 before." 
 
 "Do you keep up the reading after supper, 
 since your mother died ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes." 
 
 "And your father, — does he pray yet?" 
 
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 107 
 
 "Not yet. He says he will sometime." 
 
 "How is it with you Dio: have you promised 
 to love God too?" 
 
 "I don't know," said Dio. "I reckon I did n't 
 promise for sure, but I say my prayers." 
 
 " You can't do better than to promise for sure, 
 and that without any waiting. And Rolfe, too, 
 and Vinnie, every one of you can love God, and 
 be his dear children." 
 
 "And me too?" piped little Lottie, at his 
 knees. 
 
 "Yes; Lottie also must be God's little child, 
 and say her prayers, and try to please him." 
 
 "Lottie will, "said the little one, beaming with 
 satisfaction at being included with the rest. 
 
 "Now I must go," said Mr. Capen. "Here 
 are some little books for you, — one apiece all 
 round." 
 
 They were small books in paper covers, but the 
 children looked upon them as very precious gifts. 
 
 He mounted his horse to go. They watched 
 him regretfully, wishing he could stay longer. 
 
 He drew the reins, and looked at the little 
 group with unfeigned solicitude. His heart 
 yearned over these poor lambs without shepherd 
 or fold. 
 
108 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 " Do you know the Twenty-third Psalm, Dean ? 
 It begins, ' The Lord is my Shepherd. ' " 
 
 "I don't think I ever read it," said Dean. 
 "I can find it, though." 
 
 "I wish you would, and learn it. Every one 
 of you learn it. It is a short one." 
 
 "We will. We will all learn it," they an- 
 swered; and little Lottie was ready as any with 
 her "Me will." 
 
 " I will write you a letter. Can either of you 
 write me an answer?" 
 
 "I used to know how to make all the letters, 
 but I reckon I 've forgot," said Dean regretfully. 
 
 "Then you could n't read my letter. But 
 your father will read it to you. And you can 
 get him to show you how to make all the letters, 
 and then write me an answer." 
 
 "I reckon I might do that," said Dean. 
 
 "Well, good-by," and Mr. Capen gave the 
 signal for his horse to start, and with many good- 
 bys from the children he rode away, while they, 
 having watched him put of sight, went into the 
 house for dinner, after which they began writing 
 all the letters they could remember. Paper was 
 scarce, and pencils scarcer; but there were bits of 
 
AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE. 109 
 
 red chalk to be found occasionally among the 
 stones of the old chimney, and with these they 
 adorned the walls with rude characters, of all 
 shapes and sizes, some of which it would be hard 
 to recognize as letters. Even the baby caught 
 the infection ; and she would possess herself of a 
 bit of chalk, and make a mark on the floor beside 
 her, and then say "Ah!" which meant "See 
 there ! " She was a bright little thing, and they 
 all loved her dearly. Instead of creeping as most 
 babies do, she had learned to hitch herself about 
 on the floor backwards. Her mode of travel was 
 very amusing. Dean found his cares increased 
 after she learned this, as she ' ' got into every- 
 thing," as he expressed it. 
 
 " Tether her, as we used to the calves," 
 suggested her father. 
 
 So it was done. An old scarf was fastened 
 about the baby's waist, and a short rope tied to 
 that at one end and made fast to the bed-post at 
 the other, often served to keep little Martha 
 within safe limits. 
 
110 BILLOW PEAIBIE. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 NEW-COMERS. 
 
 The children began to talk about having a 
 cow, now that there was plenty of grass, every- 
 where, for her to eat. They grew quite ambi- 
 tious, and their father was not backward in 
 encouraging them with large promises as to what 
 he would do " one of these days." But the 
 wants of the family were many, and the oppor- 
 tunities of getting work were few ; and now that 
 the prudent counsels of his wife no longer in- 
 fluenced him, Felix would have meat and butter 
 and sugar, though the want of clothing or other 
 necessaries were ever so pressing. 
 
 So far from having any money to lay by for the 
 purchase of a cow, things presently came to such 
 a pass that the little ones were almost destitute 
 of clothing, and all, except the father, entirely 
 destitute of shoes. 
 
 Dean felt that he was in a hard place. He had 
 all his mother's love of neatness and decency, and 
 
NEW-COMERS. Ill 
 
 he struggled to make the poor rags of clothing 
 hold together. Dio helped him sometimes, with 
 many threats, as she worked, that she would go 
 away to the city, and get a place to work and 
 earn money for all their needs. Dean felt that 
 she was much too young, and too giddy and 
 thoughtless, to do this yet. He could not go. 
 He must stay and supply his mother's place. The 
 care of keeping the family together, the very 
 existence of the smallest children, seemed to rest 
 upon him; for neither Marvel nor Dio took much 
 care upon themselves, except on some extraordi- 
 nary occasions. 
 
 After many reminders, and many disappoint- 
 ments, Felix did, one day, bring home a dozen 
 yards of calico. 
 
 "There!" said he, "I reckon that '11 make 
 clo'es for the girls. I got it at a bargain. 
 There 's heaps of it. Purty, too ! " 
 
 Dean was so glad to get anything in the shape 
 of cloth, that he found no fault, though he 
 thought it anything but prett}^, and the quality 
 was very poor. Nor did he hint about any per- 
 plexity as to cutting and making. His fingers 
 had long been trained to the use of the needle, 
 
112 BILLOW PBAIEIE. 
 
 and he could mend strongly, if not handsomely. 
 But to cut out and make a new article of cloth- 
 ing was another thing. 
 
 Dio, roused to some enthusiasm by the new 
 material, though she, too, thought the color 
 and pattern very ugly, really developed some 
 womanly capacity in the matter of cutting out 
 and fitting a dress for the baby, and then another 
 for Lottie. Dean toiled away at these under 
 her direction, till he had the pleasure of seeing 
 the little ones clad once more in something that 
 would at least cover their little bodies. 
 
 Dio was at work, meanwhile, upon a dress for 
 herself. It did not suit her taste at all to sit and 
 sew, in the fine, bright days of early summer; but 
 her threats of going from home had not been 
 wholly idle. She really wished to get away. 
 She chafed under the poverty and wretchedness 
 of their life; and, young as she was, she felt 
 quite capable of making her way in the world. 
 But how could she go away until she had at least 
 a decent dress and a pair of shoes? This new 
 dress was a step toward the acomplishment of her 
 plan. So she fitted and sewed with a will. 
 
 Marvel's self-respect and self-reliance had con- 
 
NEW-COMERS. 113 
 
 siderably increased since he had accomplished the 
 feat of getting the garden plowed. He had 
 worked at it since with some zeal and persever- 
 ance. Occasionally he repeated the walk of three 
 miles to John Faxon's house ; and sometimes John 
 would give him a little work, paying him in such 
 things as he could spare, — a little pork or sor- 
 ghum molasses, or a few potatoes. John bore with 
 his noisy, bragging tongue, and his blundering, 
 troublesome ways to a degree that was remark- 
 able. Perhaps he felt some remorse at the re- 
 membrance of the rude awakening he had given 
 the poor lad at his mother's death. But, though 
 Marvel was not an agreeable companion, he made 
 himself useful, doing with dogged persistency 
 any work that he could do. His strength had 
 increased, as he used it, till there was no lack of 
 bodily vigor. His father had so far redeemed his 
 promise, that in the month of June he had about 
 four acres of ground broken up, and planted to 
 sod-corn, pumpkins, and melons, which might, if 
 it should prove a favorable season, help a good 
 deal toward their support. 
 
 It was a gala day Avhen the corn-planting be- 
 gan. Every child was out to help, or to look on. 
 
114 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 Marvel and Dio did most of the planting. Armed 
 with an old ax, and a pocket full of seed, they 
 followed the furrows, chopping a fissure every 
 three or four feet, into which they dropped corn, 
 and then closed it over the seed with a light 
 pressure of the foot. 
 
 Dean walked up and down the furrows with 
 little Martha, whose big sunbonnet now drooped 
 over her face so she could not see at all, and now, 
 pushed back by her vigorous little hands, lay on 
 her shoulders, leaving her shining brown head 
 bare to the sun and air. 
 
 While they were all thus interested and busy, 
 the rare spectacle of an emigrant wagon drawn by 
 mules came in sight. They watched it, till they 
 saw it come to a stop on a piece of rising ground 
 about a quarter of a mile east of their cabin. 
 
 "Lookee! going to have some neighbors, I 
 reckon," said Marvel. " I heerd tell as some one 
 had took up that piece over yonder." 
 
 Three men were presently seen walking about, 
 unharnessing their mules, staking them out to 
 feed upon the prairie grass, and presently mak- 
 ing certain measurements with poles set in the 
 ground. 
 
NEW-COMERS. 115 
 
 Not a motion was lost upon the interested spec- 
 tators. Any change in the monotony of their 
 lives was eagerly welcomed, and there would 
 be many advantages in having a neighbor so 
 near. 
 
 Presently they were rejoiced to see one of the 
 men, pail in hand, coming toward their home. 
 
 "He 's after a bucket of water," said Dean. 
 " Now we shall know ; " and he made his way 
 homeward as fast as he could with his little sister 
 in his arms, the rest of the children following. 
 Even their father and John Faxon, leaving the 
 plow in the furrow, came up to the cabin to greet 
 the new-comer, and satisfy their curiosity. He 
 was a small gray-haired man, with a slight lame- 
 ness on one side, but he had a clean, wholesome, 
 intelligent face. 
 
 " Howdy, stranger ! Glad to know you 're com- 
 ing to settle a-near us," said Felix. "Shake ! " 
 
 The stranger gave his hand to Felix, and then 
 to John Faxon, in a manner sufficiently cordial ; 
 but he seemed a silent, shy man compared with 
 Felix, who was nothing loath to do most of the 
 talking. 
 
 " I see you 've took up that claim over yonder. 
 
116 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 Good piece o' land as lies out^doors. I wonder 
 nobody has n't hitched onto it afore now." 
 
 " Yes. I Ve entered on that quarter section, and 
 bought the one joining it on the south," replied 
 the stranger. "I 've got two boys. The two lots 
 will give us all the land we '11 ever want to work." 
 
 "Yes; if ye don't git land greedy. Folks is apt 
 to after they 've been here a spell ; specially if 
 they see the land bein' taken up pretty fast. An' 
 then they git land poor. Lots o' folks gits land 
 poor. They 'd orter spend their money on im- 
 provements 'stead o' gittin' more land. You 've 
 got a fine spot to build on, over there." 
 
 "Yes. I thought so. A rise of ground makes 
 it pleasanter." 
 
 "My name is Felix Windom. What mought 
 yourn be ? " 
 
 " Samuel Lewis is my name." 
 
 "Howdy, Mr. Lewis! Glad to have ye for a 
 neighbor. This here is John Faxon. Used to be 
 one o' my neighbors, back where I cofne from, an' 
 now he 's a neighbor agin. I reckon you brought 
 your hull family along." 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Lewis; "all I have left. A 
 daughter and two sons." 
 
NEW-COMERS. 117 
 
 "Sho! A widder-man I reckon. That's just 
 my case. A gre't loss was my woman," said Felix. 
 "Died last winter of the neumony. I reckon 
 likely your girl is some bigger 'n mine ; she ain't 
 much of a housekeeper, yet, — Diodema ain't. 
 Dean, here, is the head o' the^ housekeepin'. 
 Dean 's a right down regulator. He 's got an old 
 head, if he is little. Them two is twins, though 
 you would n't think it. Dean 's had all the care o' 
 that baby day and night sence her mother died. 
 Ain't she healthy lookin'? Don't her eyes shine? 
 Got her mother's eyes. They don't none on em 
 favor me, exceptins o' Marvel, and," discontent- 
 edly, "he don't do me the credit he 'd orter." 
 
 Dean, abashed at the praise his father had 
 bestowed upon him, had tried to shrink behind 
 Marvel and Dio, but he had to come forward to 
 exhibit the baby. He was glad when she became 
 her father's theme of conversation. 
 
 " Yes," -replied Mr. Lewis, " my daughter is 
 older. In fact, she 's my first wife's child. The 
 two boys are by my second wife. Felicia is a 
 good housekeeper. She has had experience. She 
 was only ten when her mother died, and she kept 
 house for me all the next year, and she 's always 
 
118 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 been as good as a right hand to her stepmother. 
 And now she 's my dependence again. I don't 
 need to ask for any better, as far as housekeep- 
 ing goes. What she does n't know is n't worth 
 knowing in that line, if I do say it myself." 
 
 "Goin' right to buildin'?" asked John Faxon. 
 
 " Yes ; just as soon as we can. We want to get 
 in something of a crop first. You 're planting yet, 
 I se^." 
 
 This led to a discussion of the chances of get- 
 ting a crop of sod-corn from so late planting, — 
 interesting only to farmers. 
 
 Dio, on hearing that there was a girl over on the 
 new claim, had cast some wistful glances that way, 
 and now, in a low tone, announced to Dean her 
 intention of going over to see her. Dean nodded 
 approvingly, and off she ran, like a deer, across 
 the strip of prairie. 
 
 She came up, panting and rosy, at the side of 
 the emigrant wagon. On the farther side, shel- 
 tered from the view of their only neighbor by the 
 wagon, stood a tall, angular woman bending over 
 a cook-stove. She was at least thirty years old. 
 Her plain, dark face was comely only in its intel- 
 ligence and kindliness. 
 
NEW-COMERS. 119 
 
 " I thought — he said — there was a girl here/* 
 Dio began in some embarrassment. 
 
 *'Yes. I 'm the girl, — Mr. Lewis's daughter. 
 You expected to see a little girl, I suppose. Well, 
 I 'm sorry, but I 'm all the girl he 's got." 
 
 "Is your name F'licia?" asked Dio. 
 
 "My name 's Felicia," with distinct enuncia- 
 tion of all the syllables. 
 
 "It 's a pretty name," remarked Dio, making 
 keen use of her eyes to find out all she could 
 concerning her new neighbor's belongings. " Got 
 right smart of pork, have n't you?" peering into 
 a barrel that had been taken out of the wagoJi to 
 make way in getting out the stove. 
 
 " Your mother ought to teach you better man- 
 ners than to go peeping into folk's pork-barrels," 
 said Miss Felicia, turning sharply, and clapping 
 • the cover on the barrel. 
 
 "Law! I didn't mean no harm," said Dio, 
 rather dismayed. "I hain't got no mother; she 's 
 dead." 
 
 "Oh, is she? Then I 'm sorry I spoke out so. 
 I 'm a little hasty in the temper, and that 's a 
 fact. Are there other neighbors anywhere near?" 
 
 Dio nodded. "The Williamses, about a mile 
 
120 - BILLOW PRAIBIE. 
 
 over yonder, " pointing westward, "and the Fax- 
 ons, three miles that a-way," pointing south. 
 
 " That all ? And no school I suppose, and no 
 meetings on Sunday." 
 
 "No,"saidDio. 
 
 " The Williamses, — are they religious folks ? " 
 
 Dio meditated, and then nodded. "I reckon 
 she is," was the reply. 
 
 " Are there no others ? No religious folks any- 
 where near?" 
 
 " There 's Mr. Holt. He 's an old man that 
 lives a ways down the creek. I don't know how 
 far. He made a prayer, and spoke at ma's 
 funeral. I never saw him before or since." 
 
 "H'm! No meeting, — four families within 
 perhaps as many miles," mused Miss Felicia. 
 " Well, we 're going to have a meeting. That 's 
 a settled fact. I told father, when we were plan- 
 ning to come out here, that we must have a meet- 
 ing every Sunday, if nobody came to it but our 
 own four selves. Four families will make quite 
 a congregation; and if we can't have a minister, 
 there 's a sermon in our paper every week, and 
 somebody can read that. I suppose there is n't 
 even a school-house to have it in. Well, we shall 
 
NEW-COMERS. 121 
 
 see. Only there '11 be a meeting; you mark 
 that. Maybe it '11 be in our wagon, or on the 
 open prairie; but there '11 be one." 
 
 " May I come ? " asked Dio. 
 
 "To be sure you may. That 's just what is 
 wanted, — to have everybody come." 
 
 "I reckon you come from a good ways off," 
 said Dio. 
 
 . " Only from the jumping-off place on the coast 
 of Maine," said Miss Felicia with a laugh. 
 "Two thousand miles, or such a matter." 
 
 " My ! That 's a ways ! " said Dio. " I should 
 think the mules would be nigh about dead, and 
 you, too, going so far." 
 
 "Oh, we came in the cars most of the way," 
 said Miss Felicia. " We bought the mules and 
 the wagon in Kansas City." 
 
 "Spect you '11 like it here?" asked Dio. 
 
 "We 've come to stay," said Miss Felicia; "and 
 I 'm determined to like it, if I can. I hated to 
 leave my old neighbors, and the farmhouse where 
 I was born, and the rocks and hills. I loved 
 them, every one. But it was best for the boys. 
 The farm was small and sandy, and though the 
 rocks and hills were pretty to look at, they did n't 
 
122 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 make us a living. Father and I wanted the boys 
 to have a better chance, and I guess they '11 get it 
 out here;" and she looked about upon the broad 
 expanse of prairie with some gratification. 
 
 "It '11 seem more like home when you get a 
 cabin built, and a garden," suggested Dio. 
 
 "Of course it will. I 've brought roses and 
 lilacs clear from my old garden in Maine. I took 
 a sight of pains to keep them fresh all the way. 
 I hope they '11 live; though it does n't look much 
 like setting them out, on this thick sod. I don't 
 know how I '11 manage, but there '11 be a way. 
 Albert dug up a sod, and we 've got them in the 
 ground." 
 
 "You 'd ought to come earlier, so you could 
 have a garden," said Dio. "We 've got ours all 
 planted, and some of the things have come up 
 already." 
 
 " We meant to, and I thought we should, but 
 we 've had a good many hindrances. I feel the 
 worst about the garden. I don't know how to get 
 along without one. I feel as if I want to take a 
 spade and go right at this tough old sod myself." 
 
 "You can't do it," said Dio. "We tried, and 
 it was too hard." 
 
NEW-COMERS. 123 
 
 "Oh, I don't expect to. The boys will plow 
 a piece this afternoon. Then I shall shake out 
 the sods, and make the best I can of it. I only 
 spoke so because I feel so impatient to get some 
 seed in." 
 
 Mr. Lewis now returned with the water, and 
 as Dio saw that they were about to eat dinner, 
 she took her leave. 
 
124 BILLOW PEAIBIE. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 GETTING READY FOR MEETING. 
 
 Dio's call was returned the very next morning. 
 Miss Felicia proved herself in earnest in her pur- 
 pose of maintaining public worship; for, notwith- 
 standing her great desire to be at work upon a 
 garden, she had come to ask Dio's company on a 
 long walk. 
 
 " I found out from your father where that Mr. 
 Holt lives that you told me about," she said. 
 " I want to go and see him. It is four miles, but 
 I can walk as far as that in a good cause. Can 
 you go with me?" 
 
 Dio was pleased to go with her new neighbor. 
 She put on the homely new dress, and a tiny 
 white apron, her sole remnant of better days. 
 
 "I don't know but you '11 be ashamed of my 
 bare feet," said she, suddenly bethinking herself. 
 "I forgot I had n't any shoes. Maybe I 'd better 
 not go, after all." 
 
 "I 'm not ashamed to go with you," said Miss 
 
GETTING READY FOB MEETING, 125 
 
 Felicia. "I 'm sorry you have no shoes, but if 
 you can stand it, I can." 
 
 Dio laughed, much relieved, and getting her 
 sunbonnet, declared herself ready. It was a long 
 walk, and the sun was hot. Miss Felicia's face 
 grew crimson beneath the straw hat she wore, but 
 she patiently plodded on till they came in sight 
 of a small frame house. As they drew near, an 
 old man, with thin white locks around a mild and 
 kindly face, laid down his hoe and came out of 
 his garden to meet them. "How do you do? I 
 take it you are our new neighbor," said he cor- 
 dially. " Walk right in out of the hot sun. My 
 wife will be glad to give you a drink of butter- 
 milk, and a seat in the shade." 
 
 The wife was not slow in making her appear- 
 ance, and her welcome was as hearty as her hus- 
 band's. 
 
 " We 're very glad of the sight of neighbors, " 
 said she. " Sit right down here in the porch where 
 it 's cool and shady, and take off your things. 
 I '11 get you a fan and a drink." 
 
 The porch was only a rude frame covered with 
 rough boards, but it added materially to the com- 
 fort of the house by shading the west door from 
 
126 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 the afternoon sunshine. As it was yet early in 
 the day it was a cool and comfortable place to sit, 
 and chairs were speedily brought out for the com- 
 fort of the visitors. The cool, fresh buttermilk, 
 and a few minutes' rest, restored our weary trav- 
 elers, and their errand was soon made known. 
 
 "Just what we've been wishing, is n't it, 
 wife?" said Mr. Holt; while Mrs. Holt, with 
 tears of joy in her eyes, seized her visitor by both 
 hands, having no words to express her joy at 
 finding in the new neighbor a friend of her great 
 Friend, and an efficient helper in a cause she 
 loved. 
 
 Miss Felicia explained that her father and 
 brothers were as desirous as she to have a " meet- 
 ing" on the Sabbath, only she could spare the 
 time to come and see about it better than they. 
 They would be on hand to help, if a place to meet 
 could be found. 
 
 "We 've nothing to offer but the wagon we 
 came in," she said. 
 
 "We 've one comfortable room, and that 's as 
 much as anybody in these parts has yet. The 
 meeting can be here, if folks will come so far, 
 and I guess they will," said Mrs. Holt. 
 
GETTING READY FOR MEETING. 127 
 
 "How shall we let them know?" asked Miss 
 Felicia. 
 
 "By word of mouth, "said Mr. Holt; "there's 
 no other way. Give the word to anybody you can 
 see, and ask them to pass it along. I 've neigh- 
 bors two miles east, and there 's Stevens that 
 owns the saw-mill, and lives a mile south of us. 
 I '11 engage to let them know." 
 
 "I '11 go over to the Williamses and tell them," 
 said Dio. 
 
 "I don't know where to find anybody," said 
 Miss Felicia. "If you '11 tell me where to go, 
 I '11 do my part." 
 
 "I guess you 've done your part already. 
 You 've set the ball a-rolling," said Mr. Holt. 
 "But there 's the Faxons." 
 
 "I reckon Marv will be going over there to- 
 morrow," said Dio; "he '11 tell them." 
 
 "I don't think of anybody else we can send 
 word to. But if these all come, that will make 
 quite a houseful, and others may hear of it 
 through them, if there are others." 
 
 Mr. Holt was of the opinion that they had 
 better attempt only a Sabbath-school to begin 
 with. " When we get better acquainted with our 
 
128 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 neighbors, and their gifts, we can go on to a 
 prayer-meeting, and perhaps a minister will come 
 along and give us a sermon now and then." 
 
 Miss Felicia would have liked to have a sermon 
 read, but she bethought herself that as they were 
 to occupy Mr. Holt's house, he perhaps ought to 
 decide the character of the service. 
 
 "We '11 have plenty of Bible-reading and sing- 
 ing, and if anybody has a word of explanation or 
 exhortation to put in, we '11 not be stiff; they '11 
 get a chance," said he. "If we only had hymn- 
 books. Folks like singing, and I think it 's 
 profitable, — ' psalms, and hymns, and spiritual 
 songs.' " 
 
 "We brought along a couple of dozen small 
 gospel hymn-books," said Miss Felicia. "Our 
 church in Maine gave them to us for this very 
 purpose." 
 
 "Why, that 's riches! Two dozen! We '11 set 
 out in fine shape," said Mrs. Holt joyfully. 
 
 When all the preliminaries had been settled, 
 Mrs. Holt took her visitors into her garden to 
 show her few floral treasures. There was a 
 crimson peony just shaking out its leaves in the 
 sunshine, and sending up great round buds from 
 
 Q^ 
 
GETTING HEADY FOR MEETING. 129 
 
 its heart; near it was a lilac, already clothed in 
 green, and with red buds near to blossoming, and 
 a small rose-bush as full of promise as if it were 
 wholly unconscious that it had been lately trans- 
 planted a thousand miles from its native home. 
 EveBy one of these things was of keen interest to 
 these pioneers in a land where all was new and 
 wild. A few plants reminded them of their old 
 homes. Dio bent over the rose-bush with ex- 
 clamations of delight. 
 
 "Oh, my! Would n't ma have liked to see 
 this ? Ma was so fond of flowers ! I ' ve got flower- 
 seeds planted, and some of them have come up, 
 but would n't I like a rose-bush! " 
 
 "You shall have a root sometime, if this one 
 lives and grows," said Mrs. Holt. "Here 's a bit 
 of English ivy," and she broke a small piece from a 
 vine that was beginning to clamber up the porch. 
 " If you keep it in water it will root and begin to 
 grow. Then when the roots are well developed, 
 set it in the ground, close to your cabin, and it 
 will cover it all over, if it keeps on growing long 
 enough. It 's always green, winter and summer." 
 
 Dio thanked Mrs. Holt, and cherished her ivy 
 with care. Cheered and refreshed they then set 
 
130 BILLOW PRAIRIE, 
 
 out for home. The sun was higher and hotter 
 than when they came, but light hearts made the 
 walk seem an easy one. 
 
 There was no small degree of excitement in the 
 Windom cabin over the possibility of "going to 
 meeting," as they called it. 
 
 " I 'm going ! " said Dio. " Pa, you must get me 
 some shoes before Sunday; I can't go barefoot, 
 and I 'm bound to go." 
 
 "I 'm a-goin'!" said Marvel. "My shoes '11 
 do. Dean '11 sew 'em up." 
 
 " I 'm goin' ! " said Rolfe. " I can go barefoot." 
 
 "I 'm going! " said Vinnie, ignoring the ques- 
 tion of shoes altogether. 
 
 Not one of the family was willing to stay at 
 home. Even the father began to look himself 
 over and suggest repairs on his clothing to Dio. 
 
 Yet some one would have to stay at home with 
 the little ones, too small to walk so far. Dean's 
 heart sank as he was speedily brought to the con- 
 clusion that he must be the one to stay. Dean, 
 who cared most of all for the real purpose of the 
 meeting, was the only one who had any notion of 
 self-denial, and he must yield, and let the rest go. 
 
 There were serious obstacles in the way of any 
 
GETTING READY FOR MEETING. 131 
 
 4 
 
 one of them. The father had no resources. The 
 care of making their poor clothing decent, so far 
 as mending and patching could do it, fell upon 
 Dean and Dio, — and that meant upon Dean 
 chiefly. 
 
 A da3^s work turned up for Mr. Windom, and 
 Dio rejoiced in the possession of a pair of new- 
 shoes. She strongly disliked the new calico 
 dress, which a single washing had already faded 
 to a muddy no-color. She went to the small blue 
 chest where was kept the very small stock of 
 clothing that had been her mother's. There was 
 one light calico dress that she determined to make 
 over for herself. Absorbed in the work of making 
 herself ready, she left the burden of care for the 
 rest of the family to Dean, who bravely and reso- 
 lutely began his task. 
 
 On Thursday Albert Lewis came over to say 
 that they could all ride in his father's big wagon. 
 Dean's eyes shone, and his heart leaped up at this 
 word, but it sunk again almost immediately, in 
 view of the added burden of getting ready. He 
 had all he could do to get those ready who were 
 planning to go before this offer came. How could 
 he possibly get himself and the little ones in 
 
132 BILLOW PRAIBIE. 
 
 order also ? The father set aside all care on this 
 score, however, and replied that they would all 
 be glad to go, and Albert went away. 
 
 "Freely help me get ready, please, our Father! 
 I don't see how I can alone," was Dean's silent 
 petition. The answer came. The next ^ay Miss 
 Felicia came over. 
 
 "I thought, as you 've no mother, and Dio is n't 
 quite a woman yet, you might be glad of a little 
 assistance," said she, putting her homely, whole- 
 some face in at the cabin door, as it stood open 
 wide to let in the sweet May air and sunshine. 
 " So I took my thimble and came over to help you 
 get all fixed for meeting. Just show me what 
 needs doing," she added, familiarly taking a chair 
 at Dean's side, "and I 'm all ready." 
 
 Dean felt frightened at the idea of putting into 
 a stranger's hands the forlorn garments he was try- 
 ing to mend, but without farther ceremony she 
 took from him the poor little coat of Rolfe's that 
 he was rudely patching with a different color, and 
 set herself at work, seeming to see exactly what 
 needed to be done, and what was attainable. 
 
 She had brought not only a thimble, but needles 
 and thread, and a goodly roll of patches of a 
 
GETTISG HEADY FOR MEETING. 133 
 
 variety of colors, and under her swift and ener- 
 getic fingers one garment after another was made 
 whole and decent. Dean's shyness vanished be- 
 fore her friendliness, and his heart grew light 
 and thankful as his burden of care grew less. 
 She worked till the sun began to near the western 
 horizon. Then she began to take certain meas- 
 urenJents of Lottie and the baby, saying, "You 
 need n't do a thing for these two. I 've an old 
 light dress that I 've no use for, and it will make 
 dresses for both of them. I can run them to- 
 gether this evening and to-morrow, and some little 
 bonnets too. I '11 have them all ready, and you 
 come over early Sunday morning, say by nine 
 o'clock, and we '11 dress them over there. Give 
 them a bath the night before. You '11 find Sunday 
 morning short enough for all you '11 have to ac- 
 complish, if you don't have that to do." 
 
 " I 'm more thankful than I know how to tell 
 you," said Dean. "I thought Dio and I never 
 could get all the childi'en ready; and you 've 
 made things look a heap better than we could." 
 
 "I 'm your neighbor, and I 've only acted 
 neighborly," said Miss Felicia. "You may do as 
 much for me some day." 
 
134 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "I wish I could," said Dean heartily. 
 
 "I believe you 're a good boy," said Miss 
 Felicia as heartily. "Now good-by till Sunday 
 morning. There 's plenty left to do, and we '11 
 all have to be busy as bees." 
 
THE FIRST SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 135 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE FIRST SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 
 
 "I declare! I did n't know I had such a purty 
 family," said Felix as they issued from the cabin 
 on Sunday morning, and, with no useless pre- 
 caution of fastening the door behind them, took 
 their way to the camp of their new neighbors. 
 
 Dean surveyed his little flock with a mixture of 
 solicitude and satisfaction. Dio, he thought, 
 looked very nice in her tidy dress and white 
 apron, with her new shoes and some white stock- 
 ings that she had found among her mother's 
 things. She had made the best of her old ging- 
 ham bonnet by washing, starching, and ironing 
 it, so it no longer fell a limp rag, drooping 
 over her face; and she had done the same for 
 Vinnie's. 
 
 "But Vinnie has n't any shoes," said Dean in 
 reply to his father's remark. '"I think girls 
 ought to have shoes." 
 
 "Nobody ain't goin' to mind if a little girl like 
 
136 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 her does go to meetin' barefoot. But Lavinny 
 shall have shoes by next Sunday," replied Felix. 
 
 Dean said no more, though he was secretly dis- 
 satisfied that his own and Rolfe's feet were bare; 
 and Marvel's shoes, in spite of all his efforts at 
 repairs, would not hold together to take the short 
 walk that lay before them. But Marvel did not 
 care. He was quite as comfortable without them, 
 and cheerfully carried them in his hand till he 
 was quite near the Lewis encampment. It could 
 truly be called nothing but an encampment as 
 yet. A rude tent had been put up, under which 
 was the cook-stove and such articles as must be 
 sheltered. The wagon had been Miss Felicia's 
 private apartment, but for this day she had sur- 
 rendered it, and her bed and other belongings 
 were bestowed under the tent. There was no 
 room for visitors inside it, so they all stood about 
 the wagon while Lottie and the baby were dressed 
 in the neat clothing Miss Felicia had prepared. 
 
 "You won't let them wear these things, only 
 on Sundays, will you Dio ? " said she. " It 's the 
 best way to have something to wear to meeting, 
 and keep it for that." 
 
 "No, I won't," said Dio. 
 
THE FIRST SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 137 
 
 Miss Felicia was too discerning not to see who 
 was the real manager and care-taker ; but she held 
 the theory that if it was n't Dio, it ought to be, 
 and she thought it best to lay her charges upon 
 lier as if she supposed it to be so. Dean was 
 ([uick enough to take a hint. He needed no 
 charges. 
 
 The ride to meeting was a rare treat, and greatly 
 enjoyed by the children. Dean had forgotten all 
 about clothes and all their other cares for the 
 time, long before they got to Mr. Holt's house, 
 and were seated in a row on rough boards laid on 
 boxes, chairs, or whatever would serve. They 
 were early, but already several people had come, 
 and soon the services commenced. 
 
 The singing was delightful to the young Win- 
 doms, who, since they left their old home in 
 Southern Hlinois, where the older ones had occa- 
 sionally been to Sabbath-school, had heard no 
 music but that which they had made themselves, 
 which was apt to be too boisterous to be very 
 melodious. They were all fond of singing, and 
 had vainly tried to piece together some fragments 
 of gospel hymns that they remembered, into one 
 complete whole, but they really knew nothing 
 
138 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 that could be called a hymn. A few foolish songs 
 that they had learned from their father amused 
 them sometimes, but the pleasure excited by these 
 sweet hymns was a very different feeling. All 
 the Lewis family had good voices, and the melody 
 that filled the room so pleased and astonished the 
 children that they never once thought of attempt- 
 ing to join even in the chorus, till Miss Felicia, 
 who sat behind Dean, touched him on the shoul- 
 der, and whispered, "Sing! You can help on 
 the chorus, I 'm sure." 
 
 Thus prompted. Dean joined, timidly at first, 
 but soon, finding that nobody noticed him, with 
 more confidence; and the others, seeing that he 
 was singing, began to try a little. They were 
 quite sorry when the hymn was ended. But 
 after reading from the Bible there was more 
 singing. 
 
 Dean felt tears of thankfulness and joy rising 
 and filling his eyes. This was exactly what he 
 liked, and had wanted. He looked at Dio for 
 sympathy; but Dio's eyes were roving over the 
 congregation, and her thoughts had wandered to 
 the dresses and bonnets around her. Dean was 
 never quite happy and satisfied unless he could 
 
THE FIRST SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 139 
 
 share all his joys and sorrows with Twinnie, as he 
 had called her in their baby days. Of late he had 
 been growing away from Twinnie. He did not 
 like it. " I wish she would care for such things 
 as I do," he thought uneasily. 
 
 But the time had now come for the school to be 
 arranged into classes, and the train of Dean's 
 thought was broken by new interests. He and 
 his brothers, with two other boys, were put into a 
 class of which Albert Lewis was the teacher. 
 Dio, with several girls, was under Miss Felicia. 
 Vinnie, with all the other little ones, was under 
 the care of good Mrs. Holt. There were two 
 Bible classes, — one of the more mature young 
 people, and one of the old or elderly. Mr. Holt, 
 who had been chosen superintendent, had the care 
 of the former, and Mr. Lewis, who was his assist- 
 ant, of the latter class. 
 
 "We '11 just begin at the beginning of the 
 Bible," said the superintendent. "It's my idea 
 that 's the proper place to begin to study God's 
 Word." 
 
 So they began with the first chapter of Genesis. 
 There was enough in that lesson to give Dean 
 food for thought through all the week. He had 
 
140 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 read the chapter before, but his young teacher 
 explained it so clearly, and threw so much new 
 light upon it, that he went home stirred with that 
 eager, keen, joyful interest that only the true 
 lover of knowledge can feel. 
 
 The coming of the Lewis family, and the open- 
 ing of a Sabbath-school, marked a new era in the 
 life of Dean and Dio, and more or less affected 
 every one in the family in the log cabin. It 
 happened one evening a few weeks later that 
 Marvel was sent on an errand to the new 
 neighbors. 
 
 "Come in. Marvel," said Miss Felicia pleas- 
 antly. "We 've got a house to ask folks into, at 
 last, — small and rough enough to be sure, but 
 we appreciate it, after doing without for a 
 month." 
 
 Marvel walked in, surveying the new house 
 with interest. 
 
 "Got two rooms! You 're fine!" said he. 
 " Pretty good house, I think. A heap better 'n 
 ourn." 
 
 The table stood in the middle of the kitchen. 
 A clean white cloth covered it, and the tea things 
 were arranged upon it. Marvel looked with 
 
THE FIRST SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 141 
 
 admiration at the pretty blue-and- white dishes, 
 the bright tea-spoons, and well-polished knives 
 and forks. 
 
 " Got mighty pretty things ! " he remarked. 
 
 Mr. Lewis laughed, and invited him to eat 
 with them. Marvel was always ready to accept 
 an invitation to eat, so a place was made for him 
 at the table. After supper Mr. Lewis took a 
 Bible from a shelf, and read a few verses. Then 
 they sang a hymn, and then knelt in prayer. 
 Marvel was quiet and attentive till it was over, 
 and then he did his errand and hastened home, 
 to tell there all he had seen and heard. They 
 were just sitting down to eat supper when he 
 reached home, and listened with eager interest 
 to all he had to tell. 
 
 "Should think we might sing and pray too. 
 Wish pa was like Mr. Lewis," said he. 
 
 "Pa," who had listened without comment or 
 apparent interest, being thus challenged, aroused 
 himself to self-defense. "Who benders your 
 singin ' ? " said he. "Sing all you want to. As to 
 the prayin', I reckon all men ain't alike. Mr. 
 Lewis has a gift for prayin'. I don't say I hain't 
 no gift that way, but I 'm out o' practice, and 
 
142 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 when a man 's out o' practice he don't want to 
 set up for a parson." 
 
 "You won't never get into practice, if you 
 don't begin sometime," said Dio. 
 
 "You hush, Diodema. What does a girl like 
 you know about what 's proper? The fact is," 
 said he, leaning back in his chair, and thrusting a 
 thumb in each vest pocket, as he was accustomed 
 to do when meditating a speech, "I never felt 
 like I wanted to be what you 'd call downright 
 religious. I 've always been a poor man, and I 
 want to git on, — git a start, ye know; and I 'm 
 afraid religion would be a hendrance; in fact, I 
 know it 's a hendrance. A man that goes in deep 
 for religion is bound to let chances go by : — we '11 
 say chances to work, 'count o' their happenin' to 
 come of a Sunday. How can a man what 's got 
 seven child'en let any chances go by? I got 
 Vinnie's new shoes by workin' of a Sunday. I 
 hain't done it afore sence yer ma went away, and 
 I did think I should n't do it, let what would 
 come. But 't was a case of necessity. Dean said 
 it, — did n't you Dean? — 't wan't decent to let a 
 girl go barefoot to Sunday-school. Did n't I do 
 right to get that girl a pair o' shoes? I 'd like to 
 put it to anybody." 
 
THE FIEST SUNDAY-SCHOOL. 143 
 
 "I said she ought to have shoes," objected 
 Dean, "but I did n't mean you to get 'em by 
 working Sunday." 
 
 "Lewis's folks don't seem to be hindered by 
 religion. They 're a heap better off than we are," 
 said Dio. 
 
 " Ye always put yer oar in agin me, Diodema. 
 Ye better hush. Maybe I 'm goin' to get ye 
 a straw hat with ribbins some o' these days. 
 I guess ye 'd wear it, if I did work Sunday to 
 get it." 
 
 Dio hushed. The desire of her heart was a 
 straw hat with ribbons. But Dean, seeing that 
 his sister had no word to say in reply, could not 
 be quiet. 
 
 " O pa ! O Dio ! Let 's all go withoitt any- 
 thing or everything rather than work Sunday. 
 Ma was against it, and God is against it." 
 
 "Better 'member 'bout my toes," said Marvel 
 sententiously. 
 
 " Yer toes ! " said his father with scornful 
 emphasis. "That was all yer own fool doin's. 
 Ye just shut up, and not throw up at yer own 
 father what ye was to blame for yer own self. 
 Ye can read and sing and pray too, all yer a 
 
144 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 mind to. I ain't agoin' into no such tom-f oolery, " 
 and he pushed back his chair, and hurried out of 
 the cabin. 
 
 Dean looked after him sorrowfully. "Oh dear, 
 now he won't stay to read with us any more, "said 
 he. " I wish we had n't provoked him. It was n't 
 of any use." 
 
 " Oh, he '11 get over it. He '11 forget all about 
 it by to-morrow. Let 's sing, anyhow," said Dio. 
 
 Dio loved dearly to sing. Miss Felicia had 
 loaned her one of the hymn-books the Sabbath 
 before, and now she brought it, and after the 
 reading they sang several hymns. The twilight 
 deepened into night, and little Martha's head 
 drooped on Dean's breast in sleep, and still they 
 sang, till their father, whose easy good-nature 
 made it impossible to hold anger long, came back 
 and sat on the doorstep, and joined in the 
 chorus : — 
 
 " We shall all meet there, 
 We shall all meet there. 
 If we love the Lord, and obey his Word, 
 We shall all meet there." 
 
 But he never thought what an important IF 
 that was. 
 
A REFUSAL. 146 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 A REFUSAL. 
 
 From the time Miss Felicia first saw Dean's 
 serious face, already old with constant care and 
 solicitude, she had been uncommonly drawn to 
 him ; and as she came to know him and appreciate 
 his faithful, unselfish efforts to fill his dead 
 mother's place, her sympathy and motherly ten- 
 derness grew, so that all Mr. Windom's self-con- 
 ceit, pomposity, and disagreeable familiarity of 
 manner, and all the untidiness and discomfort of 
 the poor home, could not so repel her as to prevent 
 her frequent visits, with help and counsel for the 
 boy; and her strong influence constrained Dio to 
 do her part much more faithfully than heretofore. 
 
 "You '11 have to take the consequences, if you 
 will persist in going to the Windoms', and doing 
 so much for those children," said Albert Lewis, 
 laughingly, to his sister one day. "Windom 
 has n't been working and saving to get himself a 
 new hat and coat for nothing. I can see his one 
 
146 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 eye turning to your corner every Sunday, like a 
 needle to the pole. You may as well have your 
 answer ready; for you '11 surely get an offer of the 
 position of mistress of the log cabin, and step- 
 mother to all those children, before long." 
 
 "I can't help it," said Miss Felicia. " It seems 
 to me I never knew such a boy as Dean Windom. 
 He 's trying to carry a load too heavy for one pair 
 of grown-up shoulders, and- he 's so brave and 
 patient that I must help him all I can. And 
 he 's fairly hungry after knowledge. He never 
 forgets a thing I tell him, and the next time I 
 come he has ready a dozen questions that show 
 how he 's been turning the subject over and over 
 in his mind ever since. It 's a pity he can't go to 
 school. But I 'm determined to do all I can for 
 him. Dio is a bright girl too, but she is n't like 
 Dean. She needs a mother, if ever a girl did." 
 
 "You don't mean, Felicia Lewis, that you 'd 
 sacrifice yourself to that man for the sake of his 
 children! " 
 
 "No, I don't. But I '11 mother them all I can, 
 in spite of him. He will persist in calling me 
 Flishy, and acting as if he did n't and could n't 
 and would n't understand that I can hardly endure 
 
A REFUSAL. 147 
 
 the sight of him. I 'm as grim and offish as an 
 old maid can possibly be," said Miss Felicia, 
 laughing, though tears of vexation filled her eyes. 
 "I 'm at my wits' end sometimes. But — marry 
 him? Not if he was the last man! I don't know 
 what I 'm crying for, I 'm sure," and she laughed 
 again, wiping away fresh tears at the same 
 instant; "but that man has exasperated me till I 
 don't know what to do." 
 
 "Let him come to the point, and then speak 
 plainly," suggested Albert. 
 
 "I shall have to. There 's no choice left me," 
 said Miss Felicia ruefully. "I only hope I can 
 make him understand, and not be too savage. 
 When a man offers a woman the best he has to 
 offer, she ought to be grateful, I suppose, and at 
 least give him a kind, civil answer. But he 's so 
 conceited that I 'm afraid that won't settle him. 
 If he 'd done his part as well, according to his 
 ability, as poor Dean has, it 's my opinion his 
 wife would be alive now, and it does seem as if I 
 must tell him so." 
 
 "No use. 'What 's wanting can't be num- 
 bered,' as grandfather used to say," said Albert. 
 
 "That 's Scripture," said Miss Felicia. 
 
148 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 The same evening on which this conversation 
 occurred, Felix Windom put on his new coat and 
 hat after supper, and then taking a paper collar 
 from his pocket proceeded to arrange it on his 
 neck, while his children looked on, wondering 
 where he might be going. The need of a collar 
 had never before been apparent to Felix. Indeed, 
 he had often scoffed at those who seemed to think 
 that bit of adornment necessary, so the children 
 were quite amazed to see him putting one on. 
 But he was baffled in his attempt. 
 
 " Can't you fix this thing on for me, Diodema? " 
 said he after a few minutes' trying. "It will 
 stick right up behind, all I can do, and there 
 don't seem to be nothin' to fasten it to. It 's 
 got three button-holes and nary button." 
 
 Dio came to his assistance, and he sat down 
 that she might reach him more easily. 
 
 "I don't know how they fasten them, "said she. 
 "I reckon those two button-holes are to button 
 onto the front of your shirt, but there 's no button 
 on it at the neck." 
 
 "Then sew one on; I can wait," said her 
 father. 
 
 So Dio began to hunt for a button, needle, and 
 
A REFUSAL. 149 
 
 thread. These were not to be found in a moment, 
 Dio had too many places for her things. Her 
 father waited, appearing to fall into a brown study 
 the while. Suddenly he smote the table with his 
 fist, making every child start. 
 
 "Child'en!" he said, "my mind's made up, 
 and I '11 tell ye my reasons. Sence yer ma died 
 I 've been lonesome like, and things has kind 
 o 'gone to wrack. The clo'es don't get mended to 
 hold together as they 'd oughter, and nothin' ain't 
 done as yer ma used to do it. I ain't a complainin' 
 of ye. Yer 've done fine, — done noble, seein' as 
 yer nothin' but child'en. But I need a compan- 
 ion. And if Miss Flishy knows how to 'predate 
 a stiddy man that don't drink nor swear, and has 
 got a good bit of book learnin', I '11 ask her to 
 come over to stay. How 'd ye like that?" and he 
 gave the table a second thump, harder than the 
 first. 
 
 He looked around upon the little group, waiting 
 for an answer. 
 
 "If yer 've got anything to say agin it, speak, 
 or forevermore hold yer peace, " said he. " I ' ve 
 give ye my reasons. Are they good, or ain't they? 
 Speak, or forevermore hold yer peace." This 
 
150 BILLOW PBAiniE. 
 
 sentence had so pleased Felix's ear, it sounded so 
 oratorical, that he must needs repeat it; and he 
 turned his one eye from face to face, awaiting an 
 answer. 
 
 Dio giggled in a foolish way, and looked round 
 at Dean; but, seeing that he seemed very sober, 
 she recovered herself, and answered, — 
 
 "I 'm sure I hain't any objections. I 'd like 
 somebody to come and smart up things. Miss 
 Felicia is real pleasant, only she can be some 
 fearsome when she 's a mind to." 
 
 "She won't come," said Marvel bluntly. "I 
 know, she won't come ! " 
 
 "Marv! " said his father, frowning sternly upon 
 him, " Miss Flishy is a woman of sense, I take it. 
 She knows the vally of a stiddy man." 
 
 "If she only would come," said Dean, clasping 
 his hands tightly together in his enthusiasm. 
 "Oh, if she only would!" 
 
 " Well, I 'm a-goin' to ask her. I reckon she 's 
 a woman of sense, and my mind 's made up, and 
 I 've give ye my reasons, and now, if yer 've 
 nothin' agin it," — Felix had intended to bring in 
 his grandiloquent sentence the third time, but he 
 had somehow stumbled, and missed of coming out 
 
A REFUSAL. 151 
 
 as he expected, so after an instant of hesitation 
 he closed with, — "ye may jest hold yer peace." 
 
 Then Dio sewed the button on, and, with a pin 
 to keep it down behind, it seemed to be all right. 
 He brushed his much-neglected hair smooth and 
 straight, and then he went forth into the dusky 
 evening. 
 
 "They '11 all be there. How can he ask her 
 before them all?" said Dio with a womanly in- 
 stinct of the fitness of things. 
 
 "She won't come," persisted Marvel. 
 
 "I 'm afraid she won't come," echoed Dean. 
 "She 's too different from us. What kind of 
 a place would this be for a lady like her to 
 live in?" 
 
 " Why don't we tidy up ? " said Rolfe. " May- 
 be she '11 come. Look at this hump-a-dy room ! 
 Let 's make it as nice as we can," and he began 
 hastily to put together the supper dishes that 
 were still unwashed on the table. 
 
 "Law, she ain't coming to-night, you don't 
 suppose, do you ? " said Dio. " They 'd have to 
 go off somewhere to a minister and get married." 
 
 "Oh, would they? I didn't think of that," 
 said Rolfe. 
 
152 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 They spent the time of their father's absence in 
 discussing the probabilities of his success, and 
 building some air-castles of what might be. It 
 was not so very long. Before they had begun to 
 look for him, his hand was heard on the door- 
 latch, and he came in. 
 
 "What ye settin' up here for, — burnin' out oil 
 all this time ? " said he crossly. " Go to bed, every 
 young-un of ye. Hain't cleared off that table yet. 
 Purty housekeepers you air. Ye need n't stop to 
 do it now. Go to bed, I say. Dio, have things 
 ready, quick meter." 
 
 Dio got the beds ready as fast as she could, ask- 
 ing no questions ; and in a very few minutes the 
 light was extinguished, and they all lay down to 
 rest, the last gleam of hope of such a blessed 
 change in their circumstances, as had for a brief 
 time seemed possible, expiring in even the most 
 sanguine heart. ^ 
 
SCHOOLING, 163 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SCHOOLmG. 
 
 Time passed, bringing a few changes upon Bil- 
 low Prairie. Some new families had come to 
 make a home in the neighborhood. At least 
 three small houses were now in sight from the 
 Windom cabin, which was not much changed. 
 Felix did a little patching to roof or sides when 
 the need became imperative, — not before. Dean 
 was growing larger and stronger, and his work 
 and care showed in the house, which was growing 
 more tidy, with added conveniences in the way 
 of cupboards and shelves ; and in the front yard, 
 where he and Marvel had set out several small 
 trees for shade, which, small as they were, relieved 
 the nakedness of the place, and gave promise of 
 better things by and by. 
 
 Dio's bit of ivy had grown, and clambered about 
 the door; and she had rooted other slips which 
 she took from the first, and set them around 
 the house, eager to cover its homeliness with the 
 
154 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 glossy green leaves as soon as possible. She was 
 developing more and more ability for housekeep- 
 ing, and making and mending the clothes for the 
 family. Vinnie was beginning to be some help. 
 Rolfe had parted with his chills, and, though still 
 rather a silent boy, was more active and vigorous. 
 Little Martha, or Mattie as they called her, was 
 as rosy and happy as ever, cheering everybody in 
 the house with her sweet, confiding ways. 
 
 Miss Felicia would not give up her efforts to 
 benefit the children in the log cabin, notwith- 
 standing the unpleasant little episode she had 
 encountered, and the fact that, in spite of her 
 strong determination and effort to make her 
 answer to Felix so decisive that it would settle 
 matters once for all, his hopes and plans seemed 
 to revive about once in every six months, and had 
 to be unmercifully extinguished again. Perhaps 
 the circumstances will excuse her if she studied to 
 make her visits as often as possible in the father's 
 absence. 
 
 Her constant influence was felt in the cabin to 
 everybody's advantage. The Lewis family took 
 a good newspaper, which they regularly passed 
 over to the Windoms as soon as it had served 
 
SCHOOLING. 155 
 
 their own need. Dean and Dio were getting to 
 be good readers, and not only was their knowl- 
 edge of the Bible increasing daily, but their 
 knowledge of all useful things. They were 
 given lessons in arithmetic, and spent many hours 
 in winter over the problems Miss Felicia had 
 written out for them; for neither she nor they 
 possessed a text-book, and now that the new farm 
 was getting under way, and so many things 
 needed to work and improve it, Miss Felicia had 
 almost as little money at her command as they. 
 Happily they possessed a small slate ; and on this 
 they worked by turns, though the cabin walls, 
 and even the floor, bore marks of their zeal and 
 industry. For it was apt to be the case that if 
 one began to work at the problems, the zeal of the 
 others was quickly aroused, and all wanted to do 
 the same thing at once. 
 
 Miss Felicia had brought to her new home an 
 old geography, for the sake of the maps it con- 
 tained; and this she loaned, and from it taught 
 them much concerning the great world in which 
 they lived. She saw it rapidly wearing out with 
 much use, but she made no complaint. The 
 children were learning; and she had not bestowed 
 
156 BILLOW PBAIIUE. 
 
 upon them motherly care, without being endowed 
 with that motherly love and patience which is so 
 nearly akin to the charity that " hopeth all things, 
 endureth all things," and "never faileth." 
 
 Marvel was as eager to be taught as any of the 
 children, and really learned a good deal, though 
 he had no power of continued persistent effort. 
 But he was much less disagreeable than of old, 
 and it seemed as if he had given to Miss Felicia 
 all that loyalty and devotion that had been de- 
 veloped only when it was too late to cheer or 
 comfort his own mother. 
 
 One evening in September, Mr. Windom came 
 in with that air of uncommon importance that, he 
 wore when he had a tlieme on which he intended 
 to expatiate at some length. "There 's goin' to 
 be a school-house built somewers about here," he 
 began, and waited to view the effect of this im- 
 portant piece of news. 
 
 He was not disappointed in the amount of 
 interest and excitement his tidings would arouse. 
 
 "O pa!" "Oh, is there?" "Won't that be 
 splendid?" "Will there be a school in it, pa?" 
 came from a chorus of voices. 
 
 " I reckon there will. What 's a school-house 
 
SCHOOLING. 157 
 
 for, if not to have a school in it? And I reckon 
 it '11 be purty nigh home." 
 
 "How near?" "Where is it going to be?" 
 from the chorus. 
 
 " Well, I told 'em as how if they was a mind to 
 put it on that there little knoll, down the road 
 apiece, I 'd give a deed of it to the deestrick as 
 soon as ever I get my title, which I 'm a-goin' to 
 see about right away. I 'd give 'em a bond for 
 a deed now." 
 
 " How soon will they get it done ? " asked Dio. 
 
 "Oh, 't won't take long. The neighbors is 
 goin' to turn out and draw lumber to-morrer; 
 we '11 have the frame up by the last of this week, 
 and it 's the calculation to have it done so school 
 can take up two weeks from Monday." 
 
 "Who 's going to be the teacher?" asked Dean. 
 
 " Miss Flishy, of course. One would think the 
 deestrick would ruther have a man. I 'd have 
 been glad to have .teached it myself, though my 
 work is kind o' pressin'; but then they '11 have 
 money to pay the teacher off 'n the school-lands, 
 and I might a managed it, seein' school '11 be 
 mostly in the winter. It 'ud be quite an object. 
 But no ! — the neighbors all put in for Miss 
 
158 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 Flishy, so I 'spose it '11 have to be so. If she 'd 
 only know'd what was to her advantage " — 
 
 He left his sentence unfinished, and fell into a 
 moody silence. The children rejoiced together 
 over the good news. 
 
 "I 'm going to school," said Dio. "I don't 
 mean to miss a day. I used to like going to 
 school in Illinois." 
 
 "I want to go," said Dean with a little quaver 
 in his voice, that showed that he realized how 
 many obstacles there would be in his way. 
 
 "I 'm goin'," said Rolfe. "I have n't been to 
 school hardly ever, 'cause I was always having 
 the chills. I 'm goin' now." 
 
 " Spect Marv will have to be the one to stay 
 home with the baby," said Felix, roused to take 
 part in the conversation. "He never '11 make no 
 scholard, nohow." 
 
 "I want to go!" howled Marvel. "I tell ye 
 I 'm goin', too. No baby ain't goin' to keep me 
 to home." 
 
 Little Martha, who had been running about 
 at her play, now came to Marvel and clasped 
 his knees, and laid her little fair face upon 
 them. 
 
SCHOOLING. 159 
 
 She had learned to love Marvel, and he was 
 fond of her, but now he looked at her coldly. 
 
 "I don't see what we can do," said Dean. 
 "We '11 all want to go so bad. But we all love 
 little Mattie, don't we, Marv?" 
 
 Marvel looked hard and uncompromising. He 
 would not answer, even b}^ a nod. He sat in 
 sullen silence, resisting the little coaxing face 
 that was still pressing against his knees. 
 
 " Maybe we can take her. She 's so good and 
 quiet. Or, if not, I will stay with her my part of 
 the time," said Dean. 
 
 "I '11 take my turn staying, if Marv will," said 
 Dio, with unusual self-sacrifice. "We won't 
 grudge to take care of the poor little thing. 
 What would ma think of you, Marv?" 
 
 Marvel broke down at this, and howled again, 
 this time in repentant mood. He drew lit- 
 tle Martha up into his arms and kissed her, 
 saying, — 
 
 "Yes, yes! Marv will. He '11 stay at home 
 and take care of baby. He '11 do it for ma, — 
 and he '11 do it for baby, — and he '11 do it for 
 Jesus. Marv was bad, — bad! Marv is sorry." 
 
 "We '11 all take our turns," said Dean cheer- 
 
160 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 fully. "It won't be but a little while before 
 she can go too." 
 
 "Shall you go to draw lumber to-morrow, pa?" 
 asked Dio. 
 
 "No; my wagon ain't strong enough to draw 
 lumber with. I promised to work at the mill 
 some, to help pay for shingles for the roof." 
 
 Felix had managed to compass the ownership of 
 a horse and wagon, both in rather dilapidated 
 condition, but capable of some service. He had 
 purchased a cow too, who was also "on her last 
 legs," but she had brought them a fine heifer calf, 
 which was now well grown, and quite independent 
 of her old mother, feeding upon the prairie grass, 
 and giving promise of usefulness by and by. She 
 was a great pet with all the children. 
 
 The new school-house was pushed forward 
 rapidly. It was a joyful day when school began, 
 and the children came from near and far, bringing 
 books of all sorts, from the ancient blue-covered 
 Webster's spelling-book, down to the modern 
 readers and spellers. 
 
 Miss Felicia welcomed all, and accommodated 
 herself to any circumstances, organizing as best 
 she could ; eager to make the school a delight and 
 
SCHOOLING. 161 
 
 a blessing to the children who had enjoyed so 
 meager advantages. She would not hear to either 
 of the Windom children staying out on little 
 Martha's account. "Bring her to school, and 
 we'll see what we can do," she said. 
 
 And little Martha soon learned to be as quiet 
 as a mouse in the schoolroom. Sometimes she 
 grew sleepy; and then Miss Felicia made her a 
 bed on one of the seats, by spreading shawls and 
 extra garments upon it. Sometimes she was 
 turned out to play about the door a little while. 
 She was never any trouble. 
 
 The winter was a mild one, and passed rapidly 
 and delightfully. Dean and Dio had to rise very 
 early to get the breakfast out of the way, and all 
 the children ready for school ; but this necessity 
 developed in them more energy and forethought 
 about their work, which would be a great advan- 
 tage to them in their future lives. The evenings 
 also were full of work ; for there was always mend- 
 ing to do for themselves or the others, that all 
 might go to school in some degree of decency. 
 
 Mr. Windom had more work than usual at the 
 mill, so that he was able to keep the family pretty 
 comfortable. 
 
162 BILLOW PEAIRIE. 
 
 Dean made great strides in learning. He soon 
 outstripped all the others, so that he had to be 
 alone in his classes, but this only gave him the 
 more freedom to go on at his own pace. Miss 
 Felicia delighted to push him forward, as do most 
 teachers the scholar who needs no urging. 
 
mO*S OFFER. 163 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 DIO'S OFFER. 
 
 It was early June. School was done. One 
 lovely Sabbath morning Marvel, Dean, and Dio 
 were all out upon the prairie very early, looking 
 for the cow. That wayward creature, finding the 
 tender green grass and clear water sufficient for 
 all her needs, and her milk but a trifling burden, 
 had neglected to go home as usual the previous 
 night, nor could she be found for all their search- 
 ing. They had each taken different routes, and 
 Dio's brought her out upon an old road known as 
 the Mission Road, where she stood on a slight rise 
 of the ground to look around her. Bareheaded 
 and barefooted, brown as a chestnut, but comely 
 with the bloom of health, strong, lithe, and tall, 
 Dio stood and watched the coming of a double 
 team with shining buggy, in which were two men. 
 There was so little passing in the neighborhood, 
 that the sight of a traveler was always interesting. 
 
 As they drew near, Dio put on the bonnet that 
 
164 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 had been hanging round her neck, and, unwilling 
 to seem to be standing there simply to watch 
 their coming, began to follow the road slowly. 
 They passed her, turned to look back, and finally 
 stopped and beckoned her to come near. " Is this 
 the old Mission Road to Osage?" asked one of 
 the men. 
 
 "Yes, sir," said Dio. 
 
 "H'm! Say, young woman, don't you want a 
 place in Elm City where you can earn good 
 wages? — an easy place; no hard work." 
 
 Dio's heart gave a bound. " Exactly what I 
 do want! " she thought within herself. 
 
 "Three dollars a week, and good board," con- 
 tinued the man. 
 
 "What is the work? " asked Dio. 
 
 "Well, it 's in a grocery store. I want you to 
 tend bar." 
 
 "Bar-tender in a grocery store?" said Dio, 
 bewildered. "I did n't know they had bars in 
 grocery stores." 
 
 " There is in this one. You 've only to stand 
 behind a counter in a cozy little corner, where 
 you won't be seen by every one that comes in, and 
 measure out the drinks, and take the change. 
 You can make change, can't you?" 
 
DIO'S OFFER. 165 
 
 "Yes," said Dio rather hesitatingly; for she 
 was not very quick at figures, and feared she 
 might hardly be equal to the work. Th*at was 
 her only thought of fear. 
 
 "It 's largely a matter of practice. You 'd 
 soon get the knack of it, if you 're not very quick 
 at first," said the man, as if reading her thoughts. 
 "I 'm not altogether ready for you yet; expect 
 to open up next week. Think you '11 come?" 
 
 "I should n't wonder," said Dio. "I must ask 
 my father. But I reckon he '11 let me come." 
 
 "All right. Just drop me a line. Here 's my 
 card; " and he threw Dio a card, which she picked 
 up and studied in a whirl of excitement as the 
 team rattled on out of sight. 
 
 Dio went home as if her feet had wings. She 
 forgot all about the cow. But Dean had found 
 her, and driven her home a few minutes before 
 Dio got there. She told her story in breathless 
 haste. 
 
 " The' ain't none of my girls goin' to sell liquor, 
 — not even in a grocery store," declared Felix, 
 bringing down his fist upon the table with a blow 
 that made the breakfast dishes dance. " I know 
 too much about them places. " 
 
166 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 Dio's radiant face clouded at this. But she 
 was bent upon going. Three dollars a week 
 seemed a great sum to her. And she was ac- 
 customed to getting her way with her father, and 
 she did not despair. 
 
 "Three dollars a week is a heap of money," she 
 said. "In four weeks I 'd get twelve dollars. 
 Just think of that, pa." 
 
 " Yes ; 't is a heap o' money, but where would it 
 go to? I know the ways o' the sex. Jest as 
 soon as they begin to earn money, they begin to 
 put it onto their own backs, and then they get 
 too stuck-up to speak civil to their own fathers. 
 Ye ain't goin' to tend bar in no grocery store, 
 Dio Windom." 
 
 "I should n't do that way, pa. I should send 
 it home. I should have to have things some- 
 times, of course. I felt 'shamed most to death to 
 stand there barefoot, talking to such fine gentle- 
 men. A big girl like me, barefoot! " said Dio 
 scornfully. "Better get me some shoes, if you 
 don't want me to go away to work." 
 
 "Besides that," she began again after a little 
 silence, "I should n't have to be right out 
 in sight of folks. He said I was to sit in 
 
DIO'S OFFER. 167 
 
 a quiet little corner where would n*t many 
 see me." 
 
 "Did he? That ain't quite so bad," said her 
 father. "Spect ye might get along on half the 
 money, and send the other half home, could n't 
 ye?" 
 
 "Yes, indeed," said Dio eagerly. 
 
 "What do you suppose ma would think about 
 it, Dio?" said Dean, seeing that his father was 
 weakening in his opposition. 
 
 " How should I know ? I never heard her say 
 a word about it, and I don't believe you did 
 either," said Dio hotly. 
 
 "No, I never heard her say; but I know what 
 she would think." 
 
 " Do let us have breakfast. I 'm ready to drop 
 with hunger," said Dio, willing to change the 
 subject for the present. 
 
 Marvel had been milking the cow. He came 
 in at this moment, bringing the milk, and they 
 were soon seated about the table. But a new 
 subject of interest did not often arise, and was 
 not to be quickly set aside. They talked it over 
 all breakfast-time. Dean urged the plea that his 
 mother would never have liked to let Dio go, and 
 
168 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 that he knew the man could n't be a good man, or 
 he would n't be riding round on Sunday. This 
 argument Felix rejected contemptuously. 
 
 " Folks are obleeged to do things of a Sunday, 
 sometimes," said he. "Circumstances of a very 
 pressin' natur' makes it necessary." 
 
 "There 's folks as won't be pressed," said 
 Marvel. "I know em." 
 
 " And they get on just as well, — better I 
 reckon," said Dean. 
 
 "The Holts nor the Lewises won't work of a 
 Sunday, whatever comes of it," said Dio. "And 
 they get on better 'n we do." 
 
 " Of all the girls ever I see ! " said her father 
 indignantly. "When I was just a-workin' over 
 to yer side, ye go and put yer oar in agin me. 
 Don't ye understand nothin' about the bearin's 
 o' things?" 
 
 "I was just thinking," said Dio. 
 
 Breakfast being over, there was no more time 
 for talking. It was later than usual, and they all 
 made hasty preparation for Sabbath-school. They 
 no longer had to ride four miles; for since the 
 accessions to their neighborhood, and the building 
 of the school-house, the services had been held 
 
DIO'S OFFER. 169 
 
 there, and it was but a short walk. So each took 
 his own way thither at his own convenience or 
 pleasure. Dean and Dio walked together, with 
 little Martha between them. They walked in 
 silence for a while, till Dean broke it with, — 
 
 "Don't go, Twinnie! I can't have you go.* 
 
 This pet name of their childhood had fallen into 
 disuse of late. It only came out under stress of 
 deep feeling. It rarely failed to touch Dio's 
 heart when it came. She made no reply to 
 Dean's appeal for a while, but walked on with a' 
 sober face. They were near the school-house. 
 
 "You won't, will you?'* said he persuasively. 
 
 "I think we 're awful poor," said Dio; 
 "shameful poor. Look at my shoes! If I 
 should wear them one week-day, I should n't 
 have a thing to go to Sabbath-school in. I 
 should just have to stay at home. And pa won't 
 ever get me a hat with ribbons, like other girls 
 wear." 
 
 "I wish I could earn money," sighed Dean. 
 "But I would n't do that to earn it," he added 
 with energy, after a minute's pause. 
 
 "Why not? I think it '11 be real easy work," 
 said Dio. 
 
170 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 " So do I. But when T work I 'm going to do 
 something that '11 do folks good, — not make 
 them bad.'* 
 
 Dio was silent. "I 'm going to ask Miss 
 Felicia," said she at length. "If she says just as 
 you do, I won't go. Miss Felicia knows how 
 awful it is for a girl not ever to have anything 
 new, and she won't say for me to stay at home 
 when I have a chance to earn money, unless " — 
 She hesitated, not liking to allow that Miss 
 Felicia might think it a bad way to earn money. 
 But Dean was more than satisfied with this 
 promise. 
 
 "All right! Ask her!" said he, brightening 
 up. "Miss Felicia knows! " 
 
 Dio could hardly wait to know Miss Felicia's 
 verdict. Her first plan had been to walk home 
 with her from the Sunday-school, but there were 
 two objections to this procedure. Miss Felicia 
 would perhaps say, " I should like your company, 
 Dio, but who '11 get dinner at your home, if 
 you come away?" Dio knew Dean could and 
 would get it without a murmur, but she also 
 knew what Miss Felicia thought of her leaving 
 her own proper duties for Dean to perform. 
 
DIO'S OFFER. 171 
 
 Or, it might be she would say, " I 'd rather not 
 hear about any business matter on Sunda}^, Dio. 
 I want the whole of my Sabbath for the business 
 of religion, and I 'd rather not hear anything 
 that '11 set me thinking about week-day matters." 
 
 Dio thought Miss Felicia was pretty strict. 
 Nevertheless she liked her, and trusted her, and 
 patterned after her. 
 
 So she walked back, as she had come, with 
 Dean, telling him these thoughts as they walked. 
 
 "I never once thought of that," said Dean 
 soberly. 
 
 "Thought of what? " asked Dio. 
 
 " Why, that it was week-day business, and we 
 better not talk about it on Sunday. " 
 
 "Oh, we could n't help it," said Dio. "It 
 came to us on Sunday, and of course we talked 
 about it." 
 
 " I wonder what Miss Felicia would have done 
 if such a thing came to her on Sunday," said 
 Dean meditatively. 
 
 "She would say, *Time enough to-morrow to 
 think about that,' and shut her mouth up tight," 
 said Dio, laughing. " But I don't believe I 
 could." 
 
172 BILLOW PliAIEIE. 
 
 "We always can do what we ought to do, I 
 reckon," said Dean. 
 
 Miss Felicia had trained Dio to her ways as 
 much as possible, and she thought the only proper 
 time to do the washing was early Monday morn- 
 ing. Dio always felt a little ashamed, therefore, 
 to be found washing any other day. But she 
 had frequent hindrances. Sometimes her father 
 neglected to bring home any soap. He always 
 bought things in very small quantities, and yet 
 he always seemed surprised to know that the 
 supply was exhausted. And sometimes the wash- 
 ing had to be put off because he called upon all 
 hands to come out and give him some help as 
 soon as breakfast was over Monday morning. Dio 
 liked to work out-doors. She would far rather 
 drop corn, or set up wheat sheaves, than wash 
 clothes. But then after the out-door work was 
 over, the washing still had to be done. Dio was 
 lately growing more certain to take this into 
 account, and often she declined to go out and 
 leave her own proper work to suffer. So Monday 
 morning found her busy at the wash-tub, and it 
 was not till the middle of the afternoon that she 
 was free to go over to see her friend. By this 
 
DIO'S OFFER. 173 
 
 time her mind was about made up as to what she 
 might expect. She had small hope that Miss 
 Felicia would advise her to take the offered situa- 
 tion. She was not mistaken. Miss Felicia heard 
 all her pleas, and then, with her kind, serious eyes 
 on Dio's face, said simply, "But you don't mean 
 to go, Dio?" 
 
 "I suppose not. At first I thought I would, 
 and that nothing should hinder me. It would be 
 so pleasant to have money to buy things." 
 
 "Yes; so it would. But we don't want money 
 earned in a hateful, wicked business, do we, Dio ? 
 We 'd a great deal rather go without things than 
 to get them in such a way. Drinking makes men 
 wicked and selfish, and cruel to their families. 
 We won't help it on in any way. No wonder 
 they put the person who sells it in a quiet corner 
 where they will be out of sight. That 's because 
 it is a work of darkness. They 're ashamed and 
 ought to be ashamed of selling it. 
 
 "There 's another reason why you should n't 
 go," said she, after a little pause. "You are 
 needed at home. I know the money would be a 
 help to the folks at home, as well as to you, but it 
 would n't do half as much good as you can do. 
 
174 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 You, the oldest daughter, must fill your mother's 
 place to those three little girls. If your heavenly 
 Father had wanted Dean to do such work, and 
 leave you free to go away, or to work out-doors, 
 Dean would have been the girl, and you a boy. 
 You must try to be just what God meant you to be.'* 
 
 This was no new doctrine from Miss Felicia's 
 lips. Dio had heard it all before. She was get- 
 ting it by heart, as her wise friend meant she 
 should. She sighed a little over her vanishing 
 hopes of going out into the world to seek her 
 fortune, saying, — 
 
 "You don't know how hard it is, Miss Felicia. 
 If pa would give me some money sometimes, 
 and let me buy my own things, it would n't be so 
 bad. He buys whatever 's the cheapest, if it 's 
 ever so ugly looking." 
 
 "He will, one of these days," said Miss Felicia 
 soothingly. "Think how many things he has 
 had to buy to get a start on the farm, — team, 
 tools, stock, and everything." 
 
 "We have n't near all we need yet," said Dio 
 despondently. " We borrow and borrow of your 
 father, till I should think he 'd be all out of 
 patience.'* 
 
DIO'S OFFER. 175 
 
 "We 're willing to lend whenever we can," 
 said Miss Felicia. " Cheer up, dearie ! There '11 
 be better times by and by. Marvel and Dean are 
 growing older and stronger all the time. They 
 are getting to be quite good farmers. Your 
 wheat looks well this year." 
 
 Dio went home not wholly determined to stay 
 there and do her duty to her family and to God, 
 but discerning clearly that it was her duty. Her 
 imagination still looked longingly out into the 
 wide world, and its possibilities seemed grander 
 and more alluring than anything in the daily 
 round of tasks that made up her life at home. 
 
 Nevertheless, the influence of Miss Felicia and 
 Dean, and the thought of her dead mother's last 
 charge to her, were so powerful that she wrote 
 upon the postal-card, with which Miss Felicia 
 had supplied her, a single line declining the situ- 
 ation. When she had signed and addressed it 
 with much care and painstaking, she laid it away, 
 ready to be carried to the post-office, with the 
 feeling that she was renouncing her first and only 
 chance, and was not likely soon to have another; 
 and yet with a strange new sensation of gladness 
 in doing what she knew was right. 
 
176 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 She said nothing concerning her decision till 
 the card was dispatched by means of a passing 
 neighbor. When her father was told, and found 
 that the answer had already gone, he seemed quite 
 vexed. 
 
 " I would n't a done it, — not till we had 
 talked it over some more, anyhow," said he. 
 "Twelve dollars a month don't grow on every 
 bush." 
 
 "But, pa, you said I should n't go! " said Dio. 
 
 "Well, what if I did? I had n't fairly 
 weighed the indoosement. The indoosement is 
 what I 'm thinkin' of. Such a chance won't come 
 agin in a, hurry. Don't talk to me about shoes 
 and clo'es, Diodema, if yer 've let this chance 
 go by." 
 
 "We don't want to do what 's wrong for any 
 inducement," said Dean. 
 
 " Oh, ye 're jest like yer ma, and ye 're always 
 a-goin' to be! Always standin' right acrost the 
 track, when a body wants to get ahead! " 
 
 "Ma was real good!" said Dio with indigna- 
 tion. "I should like to be as good as she was." 
 
 Felix retired behind his newspaper, and vouch- 
 safed no reply. 
 
SHOPPING. 177 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 SHOPPING. 
 
 The summer passed. The wheat was harvested, 
 and it was really a good crop. It brought money 
 enough to give Felix Windom and every one of 
 his children a good winter outfit, besides supply- 
 ing some other necessities. 
 
 Dean, prompted perhaps by Miss Felicia, begged 
 his father to reward Dio's faithfulness to home 
 duties by giving her the money to purchase her 
 own and the little girls' clothes. 
 
 " I reckon I know how to buy dresses better 'n 
 a girl fifteen year old, as hain't never had no ex- 
 pcr'ence whatsome ver, " said Felix. "I ain't 
 goin' to do no sech a thing." 
 
 "But, pa, she ought to learn to buy her own 
 things sometime. How is she ever going to get 
 experience, if she never has any money to spend ? " 
 
 " She might a had money to spend if she had n't 
 done foolish about that grocery store," said Felix 
 doggedly. 
 
178 BILLOW PBAIRIE, 
 
 Dean was silent, feeling not a little dis- 
 heartened at his father's persistent refusal to 
 acknowledge the wisdom of Dio's decision, or 
 the advantage to them all of her remaining at 
 home. But he would not give up the point at 
 issue, without more effort. So he went on, — 
 
 " Think how much more work I 've done out- 
 doors this summer than I ever did before. If 
 Dio had gone away, I should have had to stay in 
 the house and work a great deal more." 
 
 "Wall, some more, maybe. But Lavinie is 
 gettin' a big girl. She could do most as much 
 as Diodema, if she was put to it. And she must 
 be. Dio 's old enough to go out to work some- 
 wers, and she 's got to. Think what a family for 
 a poor man, — seven child'en! '* 
 
 "O pa! " said Dean deprecatingly. 
 
 "I tell yer what 't is. Dean, ye don't never seem 
 to set a proper vally on money. I 've always 
 noticed in some things ye 're ready to go right 
 agin yer own intrists. Don't ye know, boy, as 
 money is the greatest power in this here world? 
 It jest beats the steam-injine all holler, every 
 time. In fact, it 's the power that makes the 
 steam-injine go; for how could they build rail- 
 
SHOPPING. 179 
 
 roads without money: tell me that! Take my ad- 
 vice, Dean, and git money. Religion is all well 
 enough. Nobody don't respect religion more 'n 
 I do; but don't let it be a hendrance, — never go 
 in deep enough to let it be a hendrance. That 's 
 my advice, and ye have it free gratis, boy." 
 
 Felix's thumbs were in his vest pockets now, 
 and he was in for a long speech. Dean was 
 patient, for he knew that whatever effect his 
 father's speeches had upon the listeners, they 
 served one good end, namely to put himself in 
 good-humor. With every good point which he 
 imagined he made, his self-complacency rose. 
 But Dean could not listen in silence. 
 
 "I don't believe God thinks so much of 
 money," said he. "Miss Felicia says the best 
 folks are not generally the richest, and if money 
 was such a good thing, God would give the most 
 to the best folks, I 'm sure." 
 
 "It is n't easy to prognoscitate what our Crea- 
 tor's plans and purposes is," said Felix. "I 
 reckon he has n't made 'em known to you, nor 
 Miss Flishy, no more 'n he has to me. He 's put 
 us into this here world, and he expecs us to make 
 a livin', and that 's wot I 'm a tryin' to do. I 
 
180 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 don't reckon he consarns himself so everlastinly 
 about the little things we do or don't do, so as 
 we don't go into no rampageous wickedness." 
 
 Dean felt shocked and grieved at his father's 
 views, but he was too inexperienced to argue 
 Avith him to much purpose. He only replied by 
 asking, — 
 
 "Won't you give Dio some money and let her 
 go to town with Miss Felicia, and get the things 
 she and the children need? Do, pa! " 
 
 Felix being now in good humor, drew from his 
 pocket a long narrow bag made of chamois skin, 
 and untying the cord that closed it, drew out a 
 little roll of bills. He spread out on his knee 
 two fives and a two dollar bill, and fingered them 
 meditatively, while Dean watched him with eager 
 anxiety. 
 
 He began to count. "One, two, three, four, 
 five, — five pair o' shoes, and four dresses. I 
 reckon them ought to come out of a ten. There, 
 take it all, and don't never say I ain't a liberal- 
 minded man. And tell Diodema she must make 
 it go as fur as I would." 
 
 Dean took the twelve dollars with great joy. 
 He gave it, with the message to Dio, whose face 
 
SHOPPING. 181 
 
 grew quite sober with the weight of responsi- 
 bility. 
 
 Yet it was a day of joyful excitement when she 
 rode to Elm City with Miss Felicia, with her 
 money and four little sticks of varying lengths in 
 her pocket, the measures of four pairs of feet that 
 were for the first time in their experience to be 
 newly shod at the same time. As they rode 
 along they made careful calculation as to the 
 amount that would be left after the shoes were 
 purchased, and what could and should be done 
 with it. Miss Felicia was well qualified to 
 advise ; for she knew what was needed quite as 
 well as Dio, and she knew far better what things 
 would cost, and what materials were most 
 suitable. 
 
 There was nothing very exciting about a shoe- 
 store, and Dio was calm and self-possessed while 
 the shoes were under consideration. But when 
 they came into the dry-goods store, where pretty 
 calicoes strewed the counters, and ribbons, and 
 laces, and fine handkerchiefs dangled from over- 
 head, and flannels, and merinos in all colors lay 
 piled before her, Dio's plans and purposes were 
 all forgotten, and she was in a state of delighted 
 
182 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 bewilderment. It was well that Miss Felicia was 
 at her side, and knew her own mind exactly, and 
 was able to call for just the right things, and to 
 decide for wear and utility, against brilliancy of 
 color, or unworthiness of texture. She held Dio 
 to her first idea, against the new ones that came 
 thronging at sight of so many kinds from which 
 to choose. 
 
 Dio's father had been accustomed to buy one 
 piece of calico from which all his daughters were 
 to be clothed. This method had been intensely 
 disagreeable to Dio, both in the making and the 
 wearing, and she was determined to buy some- 
 thing different for each child. So her selections 
 were a work of time. Miss Felicia was patient 
 and interested, leaving Dio free to follow her 
 own fancies so long as they were not seriously 
 amiss. 
 
 The last purchase to be made was a hat for 
 Dio. The one she was wearing was the loan of 
 her friend. Dio had determined to have one of 
 her own if possible. To this end she had 
 planned, and though there was but little money 
 left, she found that the round brown straw she 
 coveted was within her means, and also a yard of 
 
SHOPPING. 183 
 
 ribbon to put on it. There was yet a little left, 
 and Miss Felicia advised the purchase of a hat 
 for Vinnie, and out of her own pocket bought a 
 bit of ribbon to trim it. Dio came out of the 
 store with her heart full of joy, and her arms full 
 of bundles. 
 
 Miss Felicia had her own errands to do, and 
 when they had disposed Dio's packages safely 
 under the wagon seat, they began again. Dio 
 tried to help her friend in turn, and learned much 
 from her as to the best ways of shopping. If it 
 be true that those who have gone from earth are 
 sometimes allowed a look at the dear ones left 
 behind, and Dio's mother could have seen her 
 child, just budding into womanhood, rosy and 
 happy with the excitement of her grand business 
 that day, yet pliant and yielding to the wise 
 friend who was so much to her, she would surely 
 have said with a thankful heart, "My Lord, in 
 whose care I left the child, with such fear and 
 trembling, thou hast done for her far more, and 
 better, than I could have done. Blessed be thy 
 holy name ! " 
 
184 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 EARNING MONEY. 
 
 Dean did not forget what his father had said 
 about Dio leaving home to earn money. He 
 occasionally thought of it with uneasiness. Some- 
 how Dean had gotten the idea that a girl of 
 fifteen was safest and happiest in her own home, 
 even though that home was not all that could be 
 desired, and a good many older and wiser than he 
 are of the same opinion. Dean hoped his father 
 had spoken in a mood of restlessness or dis- 
 couragement, and would not refer* to it again. 
 So it came like a blow upon a sore place, when 
 Dio came out one evening while he was milking 
 the cow, and stood beside him to say, — 
 
 "Dean, pa wants me to go away to work." 
 
 "Oh no, Dio, I reckon pa don't mean it! He 
 says such things once in awhile, but we can't 
 spare you. Why, who would do the housework? " 
 
 "He says Vinnie is big enough. He says I 
 could earn two dollars a week, and maybe more, 
 
EARNING MONEY. 186 
 
 and he wants to get money so he can have a pair 
 of horses. He needs them I know, and lots of 
 other things. And he says with seven children 
 hanging on to him " — 
 
 " If he says that Mary and I are hanging on to 
 him when we do almost all the farm work," inter- 
 rupted Dean indignantly, "or you, doing all the 
 housework, for Vinnie does n't and can't do 
 much," — he broke off suddenly for fear of saying 
 a thing about his father that he ought not to say. 
 
 "Pa does n't care how the house looks, or how 
 dirty and ragged the children are, if things keep 
 along somehow, and he gets ahead," said Dio 
 bitterly. j 
 
 Dean was silent ; for he could not dispute, and 
 he would not confirm, this statement. 
 
 "Not but what I 'd be glad enough to go," Dio 
 continued, " if I could get a good place. But to 
 leave Lottie and Mattie with nobody but pa and 
 Vinnie to look after them seems just wicked." 
 
 To this Dean assented, and then another silence 
 followed, while perplexed and troubled eyes 
 followed unconsciously the streams of milk as 
 they fell into the pail. 
 
 " You ought to go to school. I want you to go 
 
186 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 till you know all Miss Felicia can teach you. If 
 you leave off now you '11 never have any more 
 chance. I should think you might get so as to 
 teach a school after awhile. That 's what I 
 should like. I '11 talk to pa, and see if I can't 
 persuade him. I 'm sure going away to work now 
 is n't the best thing for you, and, — I should miss 
 you, awful, Twinnie ! " 
 
 By this time the milking was finished, and the 
 cow had been allowed to walk away to feed upon 
 the grass, while they still lingered to talk. For 
 answer to this outbreak of feeling Dio just 
 kneeled on the prairie beside her brother, and put 
 one arm round his neck, and hugged him tightly. 
 
 " I should miss you too. I wish we could both 
 go, — if it was n't for the little ones." 
 
 "I don't see how we can go rightly," said 
 Dean. 
 
 "Nobody but pa would ever think of such a 
 thing," said Dio. "He needs us both at home, 
 to keep things decent. But I 'm not going to 
 stay to be twitted of hanging on to him." Dio's 
 tone was bitter, and her face dark and flushed 
 with anger. Dean did not like to see it so. 
 
 "We won't speak hard of him, will we, dear? 
 
EARNING MONEY. 187 
 
 Because he *s our father, and there 's a command- 
 ment, you know. I don't wonder he wants 
 money to get a double team and tools. I want 
 it too. But I don't want to spare my Twinnie 
 for the best pair of mules that ever stepped. I 
 hope pa will think better of it. He often says 
 things, and does n't do them." 
 
 "But he means this. He 's spoken to me 
 twice, lately, about it," said Dio. "I 've talked 
 to Miss Felicia, and I know she has talked to 
 him; but it did n't do any good, for he says if 
 Miss Felicia don't know what 's for her own 
 interest, probably she don't know what 's for his. 
 He don't ever get over her not coming here to 
 live. I don't wonder she would n't! " 
 
 "Nor I," said Dean getting up and taking the 
 stool in one hand, and the milk-pail in the other, 
 preparatory to going in. "Dio, dearie, we '11 pray 
 about it. I have already, some; but I '11 pray 
 harder, and you will too, won't you?" 
 
 Dio nodded, and Dean continued. ''''Freely^ 
 you know ! That word always makes me think of 
 ma, and somehow makes my faith strong. He 
 has freely helped us so often that I 'm sure he 
 will do whatever is best for us now. And if it 's 
 
188 BILLOW PUAIUIE. 
 
 going away, why, he can take care of you any- 
 where. I 'm going to pray, and then trust 
 him." 
 
 Dean did not fail to talk with his father, but it 
 was to no purpose. Felix was determined to 
 have a double team, and he saw no way of getting 
 one without help from some quarter ; and he was 
 in that mood that opposition to his plans made 
 him all the more obstinate. 
 
 At last Dean said to him, " If Dio goes, pa, I 
 think maybe I 'd better go too. If I can get a 
 place near her, and look after her some, and earn 
 money too, we can come home the quicker. 
 Won't that be a good plan? " 
 
 "I don't reckon ye '11 find anything to do. 
 There 's more call for girls to do housework. 
 They say house help is skerce. But if ye can 
 find a place ye can go. Marv and I can do all 
 there is left to do this fall. 'T would be' a good 
 thing if ye could be earnin' money. All the 
 neighbors is gettin' ahead of us. The Williamses 
 has got a new mower and reaper. The Boyds has 
 bought a fine pair o' mules. The Lewises is goin' 
 to build an addition to their house this fall. I 
 want to get ahead! That 's what I want. And 
 
EARNING MONET. 189 
 
 nobody can't make no headway 'thout a good 
 team." 
 
 "Well then, pa, Dio and I will go to town 
 some day soon, and see what can be done." 
 
 Neither Dean nor Dio was very happy over 
 this conclusion. The thought of leaving the 
 little ones, through the winter, to such care as 
 they would get from their father and Vinnie 
 seemed like forsaking the work solemnly laid 
 upon them by their dead mother. Dio could 
 hardly understand how it was that Dean, who 
 was not forced to go, could think it best for him- 
 self. For her there seemed no choice. She did 
 not understand that to Dean the real dangers to 
 which the little ones would be exposed, in their 
 own home, with Miss Felicia near in case of sick- 
 ness or serious trouble, seemed trifling compared 
 to those that might beset her, in her youth and 
 inexperience, alone, in a strange city. The duty 
 Dean felt imposed upon him now was guarding 
 Dio. 
 
 Miss Felicia drove them to town, and, assisted 
 by her, a situation was easily found for Dio. In 
 fact, household service was in great demand ; and 
 she found she could readily command three 
 
190 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 dollars a week, being well grown and strong, and 
 not unskilful in common work, thanks to her 
 good friend. She had come prepared to stay ; and 
 her brother and Miss Felicia left her to take her 
 place in the large, light kitchen of a handsome 
 house. Of the inmates they knew no more than 
 that the head of the family was a merchant tailor 
 doing a good business, and there were but four in 
 the family. Dio was expected to do most of the 
 work, but with so few to work for she thought that 
 could not be very hard. They left her looking 
 bright and hopeful. 
 
 Dean found it much less easy to find a situation 
 for himself. Miss Felicia waited for him as long 
 as she could, and then left him to walk home 
 should he fail altogether of finding a place. 
 Shortly after she took leave of him he was offered 
 a situation as waiter in a hotel, but that was not 
 the kind of work he wanted. He would at least 
 try farther. 
 
 After spending most of the day in a vain 
 search, an opening came as if by accident, though 
 Dean did not think it was accident, when he was 
 all the time looking up to his heavenly Father for 
 guidance and help. He was just coming out of a 
 
EARNING MONEY. 191 
 
 hardware store where they "had all the help they 
 needed," when a man drove up and stopped 
 before the door in a wagon, marked "James 
 Budd, Repair Shop." 
 
 The man had a genial, honest face, and a brisk 
 hearty manner of speaking. He exchanged a few 
 words with the proprietor of the store, who was 
 still standing in the door, and was turning to go 
 away when the hardware man called after him. 
 
 "Say, Budd! You don't want to hire a boy, 
 do you ? " 
 
 " Why, yes ! " was the ready answer. " That 's 
 exactly what I do want. Meant to have asked if 
 you knew of any likely young fellow." 
 
 "All right! there he is," pointing to Dean, 
 who advanced eagerly. "Should n't wonder if 
 you two might suit one another." 
 
 What he saw about Dean, or what he knew 
 about James Budd, to cause him to make this 
 speech was not apparent; but Dean looked hope- 
 fully into the face of the stranger, and the 
 stranger looked scrutinizingly into the face of 
 the boy. 
 
 "You want a place to work? Been used to 
 work with machinery ? " 
 
192 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "I never had a chance," said Dean. "I 've 
 lived at home, on a farm. I 'd like to try, 
 though." 
 
 "H'm — your father does n't live in town 
 then. I want a boy that can board at home." 
 
 Dean's hopes fell. He made no reply. 
 
 "We don't usually pay a boy more than enough 
 for his board to begin with," said the man, still 
 watching Dean's face sharply. 
 
 Dean's hopes fell still more. What would his 
 father say to that? In the hotel he could earn as 
 much as Dio, and his board besides. He had not 
 much idea of the nature of the work he would 
 have to do in the repair-shop, but there was 
 strong fascination for him in the word machinery. 
 He saw that the man had some kind of a machine, 
 or a part of one, in the back part of his long 
 wagon. He looked at it curiously. He wanted 
 to work where he would be learning something, 
 and he did not want to go into the hotel. Per- 
 haps the purple face and strongly scented breath 
 of the hotel-keeper with whom he had talked, and 
 the clean honest face of James Budd, made some 
 of the difference in his feelings. He would 
 gladly have accepted almost any terms offered by 
 
EARNING MONET. 193 
 
 Mr. Budd, but for the recollection that he must 
 satisfy his father. 
 
 "I ought to earn more than my board," said he 
 after a little pause, during which Mr. Budd 
 seemed to wait for his answer. " I am afraid my 
 father won't let me stay if I can't. He needs me 
 on the farm, but he wants the money." 
 
 " I might take you a week on trial. If I find 
 you quick and handy, and I can afford to keep 
 you and pay you, say two dollars a week and 
 board, — how would that do ? " 
 
 "I '11 come! " said Dean. "I '11 come, and do 
 my best." 
 
 "All right. You can go right home with me 
 now, if you 're ready. We 're crowded with 
 work just at this time, and the sooner you come 
 the better." 
 
 "I 'm all ready," said Dean. 
 
 The twilight hour saw Dean kneeling bj' a 
 clean bed in a little attic room in James Budd's 
 house, giving thanks for the kindness that had 
 guided him and Dio to situations where they 
 could see each other sometimes, and be learning, 
 while satisfying their father's demands. 
 
194 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A NEW SUIT OF CLOTHES. 
 
 Dean's week of trial being ended, Mr. Budd 
 showed that he was satisfied by engaging him for 
 six months. Contrary to his usual custom, he 
 continued to board him in his own family. Mrs. 
 Budd was a delicate little woman, and the care of 
 her five children was burden enough for her. But 
 she had found that Dean, so far from being an 
 additional burden, was actually a help. He was 
 so pleasant with the children, so willing to give 
 a lift anywhere, whenever he was in the house, 
 that the matter of looking up a boarding-place for 
 him was deferred, and finally ceased to be thought 
 of. 
 
 Harry, Mr. Budd's oldest son, without being 
 actually a bad boy, had lately been wild and 
 restive, and inclined to seek the society of older, 
 and not always better boys. Harry seemed to 
 find pleasure in Dean's company. Dean was boy- 
 ish and yet manly. Older by two years, he was 
 
A NEW SUIT OF CLOTHES. 195 
 
 SO keenly interested in everything pertaining to 
 his new situation, that Harry found him ready to 
 appreciate and enjoy anything and everything 
 that was innocent or worthy, and there was some- 
 thing about him that forbade the idea of attempt- 
 ing to introduce him to evil. 
 
 Mr. Budd watched the two boys together when 
 they were unconscious of his presence, and he 
 soon came to the conclusion that his son could not 
 be in safer company than that of his new assist- 
 ant. He made no remarks, but he quietly 
 arranged to keep Harry at Dean's side whenever 
 he was in the shop. He wished to train his son 
 to his own business, and during this hurried 
 season he expected him to rise early and work 
 an hour or two before school. He had vainly 
 tried to awaken in him some interest and en- 
 thusiasm about the work. Now Harry per- 
 formed his task manfully in emulation of his 
 new friend. 
 
 As time passed Mr. Budd began to see how, by 
 means of Dean, he could get Harry into certain 
 society that he much desired for him. But first 
 Dean must be suitably dressed. Mr. Budd pro- 
 posed to advance the necessary money, and allow 
 
196 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 Dean to repay it gradually by his work. To his 
 surprise Dean objected. 
 
 "I 've got to send money to my father," he 
 said. "He needs it, and I promised. I can sit 
 in the back pews at church, and nobody will 
 mind me much." 
 
 This did not exactly suit his employer. Harry 
 liked better to stay at home, and lounge and read, 
 than to go to church ; and only his father's author- 
 ity kept him in regular attendance. Mr. Budd 
 hoped, through Dean, to win him to a real inter- 
 est in church and Sabbath-school. But Harry 
 was somewhat proud. He would not sit with 
 Dean in his working-clothes, in a back seat. 
 There were other places where Dean might go, 
 and lead Harry if he could. Not that the Young 
 People's Society of Christian Endeavor or the 
 Young Men's Christian Association would object 
 to a member appearing in his working-clothes, 
 but for Harry's sake Dean must not go so. Mr. 
 Budd was determined that the new suit should 
 come, though it came out of his own pocket. He 
 told Dean plainly that he wished him to have a 
 new suit. Dean looked troubled. 
 
 "How much ought it to cost?" he asked. 
 
A NEW SUIT OF CLOTHES. 197 
 
 " Not less than twenty dollars will fit you out 
 as you need to be," said Mr. Budd. 
 
 " I have to send my father a dollar and a half a 
 week," said Dean in a low voice, and not liking 
 to meet his employer's eye, he felt so abashed at 
 the necessity of explaining to one almost a 
 stranger all his circumstances. " I promised him 
 half my wages." 
 
 "A dollar a week would be half," said Mr. 
 Budd. 
 
 " Yes, sir. But I might have had a place where 
 I should have earned three dollars a week, so I 
 thought I must send him a dollar and a half," 
 said Dean. 
 
 "Why did you refuse a better place and take 
 this at less money?" said Mr. Budd. 
 
 "Because I did n't like the work so well or 
 the man," said Dean, with no thought of flattery, 
 whatever his words implied. He explained what 
 situation had been offered him. Mr. Budd made 
 no reply. He was not displeased with Dean, 
 but he was perplexed. He had his own ideas as 
 to what was wise in managing boys. He would 
 not make a pauper of his young workman by giv- 
 ing him the needed outfit, and he liked little 
 
198 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 better to encourage him to anticipate all his 
 wages for so long a time as would be necessary. 
 
 He thought of offering Dean extra pay for extra 
 work, but he was mindful of the old adage about 
 all work and no play making a dull boy, and 
 Dean was quite grave enough already. He would 
 not have him dull. He wished, too, to give him 
 time to spend with Harry. More work would not 
 do. He said no more at that time, but like a 
 wise man determined to consult his wife. Her 
 woman's wit would find some way. He did so 
 that evening. 
 
 "You think he is earning all you give him?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "Yes. But I can't offer him more. The 
 bargain was for six months, and it must stand 
 as it is. Business is business. To advance 
 before the time is out would be contrary to 
 all rule." 
 
 "Pshaw!" said the little woman. "Just as 
 though a man could n't pay his workmen exactly 
 as he pleases. That 's some Trades Union non- 
 sense, I know. But I 'm not going to try to 
 batter down that mountain. I 've tried too often, 
 and I know it 's of no use." 
 
A NEW SUIT OF CLOTHES. 199 
 
 Mr. Budd smiled. " Then think of some other 
 way," he said. "You can, I 'm sure." 
 
 Thus complimented the wife set her wits at 
 work. 
 
 " There 's a dark blue suit of my brother's, — 
 poor Maurice, — hanging up-stairs. He left it 
 here before he went to sea the last time. It 
 would n't begin to fit Dean, but the cloth is good 
 enough to make over. It 's quite a job to rip it 
 all to pieces and get it ready for the tailor, but 
 perhaps I can do it." 
 
 "Let the boy rip it himself. Sell it to him 
 just as it is, as cheap as you dare offer it. Then 
 we can make out the rest. I '11 pay for the mak- 
 ing, and buy him the other things he needs, and 
 the whole won't come to so much that he can't 
 pay it all back in three months, and satisfy his 
 father too. And now and then perhaps I can give 
 him and Harry a job to do together, by which to 
 earn a little pocket-money." 
 
 "You can't do better than that, as I see," said 
 Mrs. Budd. 
 
 Dean was consulted; and as this arrangement 
 fully satisfied him, he was soon in suitable trim 
 to go anywhere Mr. Budd wished. 
 
200 BILLOW PRAIRIE, 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 OVERWOEKED. 
 
 Dio soon found that in that large, pleasant 
 kitchen there were a great many things to be 
 done. And not only there, but all over the 
 large, handsome house. The mistress, finding 
 her quick to learn, and willing, — for three 
 dollars a week seemed such large pay to the in- 
 experienced girl that she felt that she must not 
 complain, no matter how much was laid upon 
 her, — taught her to do one thing after another, 
 till she was relieved of nearly every household 
 duty, and could give her time to her dress, her 
 novel, and her baby. It is proper to mention the 
 baby last, as it was mainly intrusted to a little 
 colored girl who was its nurse. 
 
 Often Dio worked from early dawn till eight or 
 nine at night, with scarcely a moment's rest. 
 Even her meal-times were frequently interrupted 
 with requests to leave off "just a minute," to run 
 to the corner grocery for a cigar for her master, or 
 
OVERWORKED. 201 
 
 to do some trifling errand to save her mistress' 
 steps. She was never spoken to roughly or un- 
 kindly, and in everything her services were 
 requested rather than commanded. But the 
 requests were very many, and exacting. Dean 
 came often to see her. But it was poor consola- 
 tion to sit and watch her hurrying on her work, 
 and scarcely feeling that she dared sit beside him 
 long enough to hear all he had to tell her. For 
 herself, there was not much to tell. It was a nice 
 place, and they were kind to her. She never 
 thought of making complaint. 
 
 She had plenty of clothes. Mrs. Lapham 
 never half wore out her things; and she would 
 gladly have paid her help altogether out of her 
 own wardrobe, only that Dio insisted that she 
 must have some money to send to hgr father. 
 Dio was rather pleased with the cast-off finery 
 that she got so cheap . It was much more elab- 
 orate than anything she had ever aspired to 
 before, and she did not realize that it was not 
 half as becoming as simpler clothing suited to 
 her years and station would have been. Every 
 time Dean came she had a new dress, or sacque, 
 or hat to show him. And at first Dean thought 
 
202 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 it was all right, though he was troubled that Die 
 had so much to do that she could never go with 
 him to church, prayer-meeting, or lecture. 
 
 But as time passed, and, by repeated visits, he 
 found it was always to be the same, and there 
 never could be time for rest, or social enjoyments 
 or improvement of any kind, he began to feel 
 that it was all wrong. His Dio was growing pale 
 and thin, and her bright eyes were not so glad 
 and shining when she came out to meet him; and 
 sometimes she cried when he came, and said she 
 was tired and wanted to go home. Her fine 
 clothes were not suited to her work: often they 
 would not bear washing, though it was needful, 
 and he could not help contrasting the forlorn, 
 bedraggled appearance of his sister, with that of 
 the bright, tidy, cheery maid of all work, who, 
 in her neat calicoes and ginghams, ruled over 
 Mrs. Budd's kitchen. 
 
 One evening Dean, accompanied by Harry, 
 came prepared to insist upon taking his sister to 
 a young people's prayer-meeting. He had found 
 these meetings so pleasant and so profitable that 
 he felt it to be intolerable that Dio should never 
 be able to enjoy them with him. He found her 
 
OVERWORKED. 203 
 
 busily engaged in polishing her master's shoes, 
 while a sink full of dishes awaited her washing. 
 Preparations for the morning's early breakfast 
 were yet *to be made, and moreover the master 
 and mistress were to be away till late at an even- 
 ing party, and Dio must not leave the house, as 
 they could not wholly trust the little nurse. 
 
 Harry did not enter the kitchen ; but the door 
 had been left open, and he saw and heard all, and 
 when Dean came out, disappointed, he said, — 
 
 "It 's too bad. Dean. Those Laphams impose 
 upon your sister. Why, there are not half a 
 dozen girls in town that are expected to do such 
 work as blacking their master's shoes. When 
 folks keep only one girl they expect to do such 
 things themselves. I wonder what mother would 
 say, if we proposed to put such work upon Tina." 
 
 "Dio certainly has too much to do," said Dean. 
 "Her eyes look tired all the time." 
 
 "No girl ought to work every minute. Why, 
 Tina has time to read some, and sew, besides 
 going out one or two evenings in the week. And 
 we never ask her to stay from church to get a hot 
 dinner on Sundays. Mother plans it all, and has 
 it almost all cooked, and ready on Saturday, and 
 
204 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 she and Tina can have it on the table in a few 
 minutes after we get home from meeting. She 
 has one afternoon in the week all to herself, to go 
 out, or to sew, as she likes. All girls at service 
 have that." 
 
 "The Laphams generally have company on 
 Sunday, and Dio says it 's the hardest day in the 
 week,'.' said Dean. "I wish Dio could live with 
 somebody like your mother." 
 
 "She can find a better place than that, if she 
 wants to," said Harry. 
 
 The thought of finding a better place for Dio 
 having once entered Dean's mind was not dis- 
 missed, but was turned over and over. But he 
 concluded to have a talk with Mrs. Lapham first. 
 The opportunity soon came. The next time he 
 went to see Dio she was out, and Mrs. Lapham 
 let him in. 
 
 "You want to see Dio, I suppose. She will be 
 at home in a few minutes. She is only gone to 
 the corner grocery, " said she. 
 
 " If you please, Mrs. Lapham, I want to see you. 
 Can you give me a few minutes? " said Dean. 
 
 " I suppose so. You may come into the dining- 
 room. What is it?" 
 
OVERWORKED. 205 
 
 "I wanted to speak about Dio," said Dean, not 
 without some perturbation. "She works too 
 hard, I think." 
 
 "She has never complained," said Mrs. Lap- 
 ham coldly. "I don't see how the work can be 
 very hard in this small family." 
 
 "I don't see, either, ma'am. She did the 
 work for eight of us at home, and kept as blithe 
 as a cricket. But somehow she is always at work 
 here. She never gets a minute to rest, or to go 
 out for a change, because she has so much to do. 
 And she is getting pale and thin." 
 
 " I have n't noticed it. It 's because she lives 
 in the city. Folks are never so healthy look- 
 ing in cities. She never complains," said the 
 lady. 
 
 "No, ma'am. I don't believe she would com- 
 plain unless she was really sick; and I don't 
 want her to get to that." 
 
 "I guess you don't need to worry about her till 
 she complains," said the lady, rising to signify to 
 Dean that the interview was ended. But Dean 
 was not satisfied to go away without accomplish- 
 ing anything. He hardly knew what he ought to 
 say. He had no experience in dealing with such 
 
206 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 matters, and he flushed to his forehead as he 
 stammered, — 
 
 "I — I can't let her stay here, unless, in some 
 way, she can have time to rest, and go out." 
 
 " You 're a pretty small boy to be talking about 
 not letting your sister stay where she chooses to 
 stay," said the lady, still more coldly and indiffer- 
 ently, advancing as she spoke and so backing 
 Dean toward the kitchen-door. 
 
 "Dio is larger than I, but she is no older, "said 
 Dean standing his ground as well as he could, 
 and determined not to go till he had an under- 
 standing with Mrs. Lapham. " We are twins ; and 
 though I have no right to say what she must do, 
 I am quite sure she will take my advice. And 
 she must not stay much longer unless she can 
 have things made easier for her." 
 
 His firm attitude made Mrs. Lapham feel that 
 it might be as he said, and Dio would leave her 
 unless she took some pains to conciliate this 
 young champion. So she said after a moment's 
 thought, — 
 
 " I suppose it 's her afternoon out that you are 
 aiming at. Well, I suppose I can manage that 
 generally. I '11 try. She may have Thursday 
 
OVERWORKED. 207 
 
 afternoon, if she will hurry up and get through 
 her work." 
 
 " I should like to have her go with me to meet- 
 ing Sunday evening, if you please." 
 
 "Well, if she can manage it. She plans the 
 work to suit herself mostly, though to be sure 
 Mr. Lapham is irregular about coming in to 
 meals, and we do have a deal of company. But 
 I '11 try to arrange it." 
 
 Dio's step was now heard in the kitchen, and 
 with thanks Dean withdrew to have a little talk 
 with her. At first she was not pleased, but 
 rather dismayed that Dean had ventured to com- 
 plain to Mrs. Lapham on her account; but when 
 she heard that she was to have a whole afternoon 
 of every week to herself, and Sabbath evening to 
 go to church, she was thankful. She seemed to 
 feel doubtful whether or not it could be accom- 
 plished, though she felt hopeful that it might be. 
 
 Mrs. Lapham soon proved that she was able to 
 arrange matters so that Thursday afternoon and 
 evening where at Dio's unfettered disposal. In 
 fact, she always had been used to doing this for 
 her help, but as Dio had not claimed it she had 
 not thought it worth her while to suggest it. 
 
208 BILLOW PBAIEIE. 
 
 Dio soon began to show that she was benefited 
 by the change. Her natural liveliness returned, 
 and she worked more rapidly and efficiently when 
 there was a prospect of getting through in season 
 for a walk with her brother, and a taste of the 
 pleasure of association with other young people. 
 It was, in fact, a gain to Mrs. Lapham as well as 
 to her, and only the indolence and selfishness of 
 the lady caused her to fail to realize that it would 
 be so. 
 
 After much urging on Dean's part, and a 
 message of invitation from that lady, Dio went 
 one afternoon to visit Mrs. Budd. Dean was at 
 work at this hour; and Dio, knowing it would be 
 so, had dreaded the visit, sure that she would not 
 know what to say to Mrs. Budd, and that it 
 would be very embarrassing to her. 
 
 But Mrs. Budd was as kind and motherly as 
 she could be, and Dio was at ease with her 
 directly; and, when she had talked with her 
 awhile, she took her over to the shop to give her 
 the pleasure of seeing Dean at his work. 
 
 Then she introduced her to Tina, and left the 
 two girls to talk over their experiences and trials, 
 and cement a new friendship, while she prepared 
 

 «w,n,-fc^of'7e'irc« 
 
 Tina was frank and outspoken. 
 
O VER WORKED, 209 
 
 a nice little treat for the three, when Dean should 
 come home from his work. It was a day long to 
 be remembered with pleasure by Dio, and it was 
 not the last spent in that pleasant home ; for hav- 
 ing found her way, and met a cordial greeting, 
 Dio was as fond of going there as if Mrs. Budd 
 had been her own mother and Tina an affectionate 
 and sympathizing sister. 
 
 Tina was frank and outspoken, and she soon 
 cured Dio of accepting Mrs. Lapham's- cast-off 
 finery in lieu of her own proper wages. Dio her- 
 self was not slow to take in the lesson of the 
 difference in her own and Tina's appearance, and 
 Dean soon had the pleasure of seeing her more 
 suitably dressed. 
 
210 BILLOW rUAIlilK 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE BLIZZARD. 
 
 The winter went by while all I have been 
 telling transpired, and March came in, with its 
 abrupt changes from mildness and sunshine to 
 cold and storm. 
 
 One Sabbath evening one of these storms kept 
 both Dean and Dio in their homes. It was 
 indeed one of the worst the winter had seen — a 
 regular blizzard. Even in the city streets men 
 lost their way, and were only saved from perish- 
 ing in the intense cold by timely assistance. 
 
 Dean sat, with an open book in his hand, under 
 the softly shaded light of the shining lamp, but 
 his thoughts strayed away over the ten miles of 
 prairie that separated him from his log-cabin 
 home. He wished he could know that they were 
 all safe and well there, through this terrible 
 storm. Filled with fears that he could hardly 
 account for, he more than once, or twice, walked 
 to the windows, and lifted the curtains to look 
 
THE BLIZZARD. 211 
 
 out upon the wild tumult. Nothing could be 
 seen but the whirling, driving snow. Even the 
 houses across the street were invisible. Mr. 
 Budd noticed Dean's restlessness and easily 
 guessed the cause. 
 
 " 'Except the Lord build the house, they labor 
 in vain that build it; except the Lord keep the 
 city, the watchman waketh but in vain, ' " he 
 repeated impressively. 
 
 Dean turned and looked at him with a wistful, 
 questioning gaze. 
 
 "Don't you find any comfort in that verse?" 
 inquired Mr. Budd. 
 
 " I suppose, " said Dean, "it means it is of no 
 use to watch the storm, and worry. I can't do a 
 thing." 
 
 "No, you can't do a thing. But is n't it a 
 comfort to think that it is all in the Lord's 
 hands. Take another passage with it. 'The 
 angel of the Lord encampeth round about them 
 that fear him, and delivereth them.' " 
 
 "I wish I knew pa feared Him, and was n't 
 off somewhere at work to-day, and the little 
 children left alone," was Dean's thought. But 
 he said nothing. He returned to his book, un- 
 
212 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 willing to display his uneasiness. But he could 
 not fix his attention upon the printed page. 
 " Except the Lord keep the house, — except the 
 Lord keep the house," — kept running through his 
 mind, for he could not recall the verse exactly. 
 "I hope He will keep the little children; and 
 Marv — poor Marv ! The Lord will encamp 
 round him to deliver him, for he certainly does 
 fear Him. Oh, I do wish pa would n't work 
 Sundays!" 
 
 The storm having prevented all visitors, the 
 household of the Laphams were all in bed by 
 eight o'clock, it b6ing their custom under such 
 circumstances to "cut off Sunday at both ends," 
 by rising late, and retiring early on that day. 
 Dio having spent the whole day in the warm 
 kitchen, which was on the sheltered side of the 
 house, hardly realized the violence of the storm. 
 Yet her thoughts were often of home, and the 
 little ones there. Weary with the day's labors 
 she soon fell asleep, however, nor did she waken 
 till the faint light of dawn fell upon her eyelids 
 and notified her that it was time to get up, and 
 begin again her weekly round of toil. 
 
 The morning of this Sabbath day had been 
 
THE BLIZZARD. 213 
 
 mild and pleasant. Felix Windom rose before it 
 was fully light, ate a hurried breakfast, and was 
 off to the mill before either of his children was 
 awake. Marvel, always a late sleeper, was at 
 length aroused by the chatter and frolic of the 
 little girls, who were all in the trundle-bed 
 together. 
 
 " You ought to get up and build the fire, 'cause 
 pa is gone," called Vinnie, as soon as she found 
 out that he was awake. 
 
 "You get up and build it, Rolfe," said Marvel, 
 turning to his brother, who lay, wide-awake but 
 silent, at his side. 
 
 " No, you 're the one to get up and build the 
 fire. Dean said you must take his place while he 
 was away, and Dean always built it," said Rolfe. 
 
 Marvel growled a little, but he soon got up, 
 and in a short time the fire was burning briskly. 
 
 "I wonder how long a stove '11 last, after it 's 
 all worn out," said he meditatively as he sat 
 watching the blaze, plainly visible through many 
 cracks in the old stove. 
 
 "I expect it '11 fall to pieces some day," said 
 Rolfe, "and burn up the house. And then 
 what '11 we do?" 
 
214 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "Build a better one," said Marvel. "Pa 's got 
 a lot of money. Goin' to buy a team. Reckon 
 he '11 have to buy a stove first." 
 
 "Old Mooly is calling for her breakfast," said 
 Vinnie. "You better hurry up, and get your 
 shoes tied, and go and feed the cows and milk; 
 and then I '11 get up and get breakfast. I 'm 
 hungry already." 
 
 "So am I! " from a little chorus of voices. 
 
 Marvel went out with pail in hand, and 
 Vinnie, in whom necessity had developed an 
 amount of energy and ability quite unexpected, 
 soon had the beds in order, and breakfast cooking 
 on the stove. There were potatoes now in 
 plenty; and though it was still necessary to cook 
 the bread on a griddle on the top of the stove, 
 there was milk, or molasses, to eat with it, and 
 with healthy appetites, such as these children had, 
 no one thought of grumbling at the fare. 
 
 After breakfast Marvel brought the Bible and 
 gave it to Vinnie, for she was now the best reader 
 in the cabin, and she read a Psalm. It was 
 Marvel's energy and determination that had kept 
 up the Bible reading • after Dean and Dio went 
 away. Felix had lately fallen into the habit of 
 
THE BLIZZARD. 215 
 
 rising from the table before all were fairly done 
 eating, and going out, leaving his children to 
 read, or neglect it as they saw fit. Dean had laid 
 his charges upon Marvel to see that " ma's way" 
 was kept up, and Marvel's natural obstinacy 
 helped to keep him faithful in this. 
 
 In one of Dean's letters home he had written 
 that Mr. Budd's family had prayer after the read- 
 ing, and also had worship Sabbath mornings, and 
 Marvel could not be satisfied till he had persuaded 
 Vinnie to adopt the same practice. He was not 
 afraid or ashamed to try to pray aloud. 
 
 Those who would laugh at the prayer of a poor 
 boy whose ability was not equal to his Christian 
 spirit, are perhaps not a few, but are to be pitied 
 for not rather being moved to tears by some 
 of his petitions. He had tried hard to learn 
 to read the Bible, and in his efforts, and in other 
 ways, he had got some passages by heart, and 
 these passages were interwoven in his prayers, 
 their grand language making a strange contrast to 
 the petitions that were prompted by his own 
 sense of need, and put in his own words. 
 
 But Marvel's young brother and sisters were 
 not disposed to criticise, and they respected 
 
216 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 Marvel, more than they had ever done before, for 
 his fearlessness and faithfulness. 
 
 There was plenty to do to get ready for the 
 morning service. There was to be preaching in 
 the schoolhouse that Sabbath. Vinnie worked 
 with much energy to get things in order, and the 
 children dressed in season. Miss Felicia came in 
 on her way to meeting and helped a little, and so 
 they all set off together in good time. 
 
 The Sabbath-school was to be after the service, 
 but experienced eyes had been watching the signs 
 of the weather. The wind, which had been 
 southerly, suddenly veered round to the north- 
 west, and many who had come with teams made 
 hasty preparations and started for home the 
 moment the service was over. 
 
 The superintendent, after conferring with one 
 or two others, called the school to order only to 
 say that the signs of a violent storm warned him 
 to hasten home, and he would advise every one to 
 do the same. There would be no school that 
 day. 
 
 "I don't see that it looks like a storm," said 
 Vinnie, as they came out of the schoolhouse. 
 "My! is n't it cold, though? Marv, you take 
 
THE BLIZZARD. 217 
 
 hold of one of Mattie's hands, and I '11 take the 
 other, and we '11 just run. Rolfe and Lottie take 
 hold of hands and run too. I 'm orlad we 've no 
 
 o 
 
 further to go." 
 
 "It 's going to be a blizzard, I believe," said 
 Miss Felicia as she passed them on the road. 
 "Look at that cloud!" 
 
 Vinnie looked, but could see nothing she could 
 call a cloud. There was only a dim white haze 
 along the sky at the north and west. But she 
 could feel now and then, sharp, stinging blows 
 upon her face, as if from tiny bits of ice. 
 
 There was, indeed, a sudden and violent change 
 in the temperature. Short as was the distance 
 they had to go, their fingers were benumbed with 
 cold before they reached home, and tears stood on 
 the round, red cheeks of little Mattie. 
 
 "Is your father at home?" asked Mr. Lewis, 
 pausing in his hurry to ask the question. 
 
 "No, he went to the saw-mill," said Marvel. 
 
 " Water and feed your cows the 'first thing after 
 you get home, and be sure to shut the stable-door 
 so the wind can't get it open, or they '11 freeze in 
 this storm. It 's going to be a blizzard, and you 
 may not be able to go out again before morning." 
 
218 BILLOW PEAIEIE. 
 
 Miss Felicia heard, and turned back with one of 
 her sudden, decisive movements, saying, — 
 
 "Father, I believe I '11 stay with them. Mr. 
 Windom can't possibly get home to-night, if he 's 
 down to the saw-mill. I 'd rather stay than to 
 lie awake all night and worry about them." 
 
 "One of the boys might stay," suggested her 
 father. 
 
 "No, 1 '11 stay. There 's plenty cooked, ready 
 for your dinners. You '11 find the beans and 
 brown bread all hot in the oven. " 
 
 Her father did not stop to parley longer. He 
 hurried on, while Miss Felicia and the children 
 gladly sought the shelter of the log cabin. 
 Already a fine snow, whose particles seemed like 
 morsels of sharply cut ice, was filling the air. 
 
 Marvel hastened to obey Mr. Lewis' instruc- 
 tions, and having attended to the wants of the 
 cows and the fowls, securely fastened them into 
 the little stable which he and Dean had made 
 warm with abundant coverings of hay and straw 
 on every side but the south, where they had made 
 a door. 
 
 "So glad we 've got a good warm place for 
 'em," he muttered, as with chattering teeth and 
 
THE BLIZZARD. 219 
 
 benumbed limbs he hurried into the house. " It 's 
 going to be an awful storm. Reckon pa won't 
 try to come home," he remarked as he held his 
 cold fingers to the fire. " Freeze old Bony in his 
 tracks if he does." 
 
 Felix had named his horse Bonaparte, which 
 being shortened to Bony by the children, was a 
 name peculiarly fitting. 
 
 "I hope he won't start," said Miss Felicia, 
 "and I don't believe he will come farther than 
 Holt's anyway." 
 
 They had dinner, and then their good friend 
 made the hours pass cheerfully with talk, and 
 reading, and singing. They scarcely heeded the 
 storm which howled around the cabin ; for Dean's 
 last task before leaving home had been to chink 
 the logs as carefully as possible, making the cabin 
 warmer than it had ever been before. It grew so 
 dark that they had to light the lamp in order to 
 see to read, and yet it was not night. 
 
 "You ought to milk the cows," said Vinnie to 
 Marvel, at last. "It 's time, I know." 
 
 "Mr. Lewis said not to go out again to-night," 
 said Marvel. He rose, however, and went to the 
 window to peer out through the small panes. He 
 could see absolutely nothing. 
 
220 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "I guess he 'd better let it go," said Miss 
 Felicia. "It 's too bad to go out. I 've read 
 that sometimes in these blizzards folks get lost 
 in their own door-yards. They can't find their 
 way even from the barn to the house, but stray 
 off one side, and are lost in the snow, and freeze 
 and die. Let the cows go, this one night." 
 
 "But the calf must have her supper," said 
 Rolfe. "And pa will scold if Rose is n't milked. 
 She gives a whole pailful of milk." Rose was 
 the heifer which they had raised. She was now 
 the mother of a fine calf a few weeks old, which 
 they were also raising. Rose was the pride of 
 Felix's heart, being unusually promising as a 
 milker. Miss Felicia came to the window, and 
 tried to look out. "I 'm afraid to have Marvel 
 go out," she said. 
 
 After some hesitation and perplexity, she turned 
 to Vinnie and asked, "Where 's your clothes- 
 line?" 
 
 "We have n't only a little piece of one," said 
 Vinnie. "It 's here," and she brought it from a 
 nail where it hung. 
 
 "Have n't you some strong string? " demanded 
 Miss Felicia. 
 
THE BLIZZARD. 221 
 
 Vinnie made vigorous search, and soon pro- 
 duced a quantity of various kinds, which Miss 
 Felicia tied together, making a line which she 
 judged was long enough to reach the barn. 
 
 "Now get the calf's milk ready and we '11 tie 
 Marvel by this string so he can't get lost, and let 
 him go out," said she. 
 
 Vinnie skimmed the milk, and warmed it, and 
 Marvel tied his hat down over his ears. Then 
 Miss Felicia tied one end of her string to the 
 wooden door-latch, and gave the other into his 
 hand, saying, "Tie it to the barn door, when 
 you get there. Mind you don't let go of it, or 
 break it. It is n't as strong as I wish it was. 
 When you are ready to come in, put your hand on 
 it and follow it. Don't untie it. Just follow it 
 to the house." 
 
 Marvel grinned and nodded, and went away 
 with his skimmed milk for the calf, and his pail 
 for the new milk. They followed him to the 
 door to let him out and watch his going; but the 
 storm shut him in quickly, and they were glad to 
 close the door to keep out the wind and snow. 
 
 Miss Felicia counted the minutes while she 
 waited for his return. She could not talk or 
 
222 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 sing; she could only worry. She knew Marvel 
 for a blundering fellow; and she felt almost sure 
 he would break the string, or lose hold of it, or 
 tie it so carelessly that the wind would take it 
 away. I think she did some praying ; for, strong 
 and wise and capable as she was. Miss Felicia 
 knew that her power was weakness, and her 
 wisdom foolishness, compared to that power and 
 wisdom which come down from above, and is 
 exercised in answer to prayer. Oh, yes, Miss 
 Felicia prayed, and as energetically as she did 
 other things. So now she silently but earnestly 
 begged of her Lord to take care of Marvel. 
 
 The time seemed long. It was surely time he 
 was through with his work. Five minutes, — 
 ten, — still he did not come. 
 
 "He ought to be in by this time," said she. 
 Unable to control her uneasiness, she went to the 
 door, opened it a crack, and called "Marvel! 
 Marvel! " But the wind whisked the call off her 
 lips, and drowned it in its own roaring. She 
 could scarcely hear it herself; much less could 
 Marvel, at even a few yards' distance. At last 
 there came a bang at the door and Marvel came in, 
 his hair and eyebrows and the soft light beard 
 
THE BLIZZARD. 223 
 
 that was beginning to show itself upon his face 
 all incrusted with snow, his eyes nearly sealed to- 
 gether, and his hands as stiff and benumbed as if 
 quite frozen. 
 
 All were busy for a few minutes restoring him 
 to some degree of comfort. 
 
 "My! my! but it 's a storm! Reckon I 'd a 
 been lost 'thout that string. Could n't hardly 
 feel it noways, but T kept a holt of it. Could n't 
 see nothin ' ! " said he, as soon as he got breath 
 enough to talk. 
 
 " What made you so long? " asked Miss Felicia. 
 
 " Barn all full of snow. Had to push hard as I 
 could to get in. Shovelled out a heap. Could n't 
 get the door shut." 
 
 " Did you get it shut at last, so the wind won't 
 drive it open?" demanded Rolfe, who was begin- 
 ning to take some care upon himself. 
 
 "Yes. Hard — tight! Wind won't get that 
 door open," said Marvel. 
 
 Felix's attention had been so absorbed in his 
 work, which was wholly indoors, that he noticed 
 no indication of a storm until the first flakes of 
 snow began to fall. Even then he did not think 
 
224 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 it necessary to start for home immediately. But 
 he went now and then to the door to look out, 
 and presently came to the conclusion that, if he 
 were to go home that night, the sooner he started 
 the better. He made his preparations and was 
 soon on the way. 
 
 He did not fully realize the bitter cold till he 
 rode out upon the open prairie. Then it pene- 
 trated his insufficient clothing, and chilled him 
 to the very bone. His poor old horse was slow 
 and weak ; and Felix soon found it best, not only 
 to relieve and encourage him, but to warm him- 
 self by exercise, to get out and walk at his side. 
 They made the best headway possible against the 
 storm, till Felix began to think he must have gone 
 fully a mile and ought to be near Mr. Holt's 
 house. He had become convinced that it was use- 
 less to try to get farther than that in such a storm. 
 
 But all traces of the road had long since van- 
 ished ; and unconsciously Felix and his horse had 
 been veering to the northeast, instead of keeping 
 due north as his road lay. There were no houses 
 near in this direction. 
 
 Felix presently stopped in utter bewilderment. 
 To look around him was impossible. He was 
 
THE BLIZZARD. 225 
 
 inclosed in an impenetrable white veil, and be- 
 side this his eyes and face were continually 
 becoming incrusted with snow. The wind smote 
 him, and his teeth chattered. Poor old Bony 
 shook as with an ague. 
 
 "I '11 freeze if I stand still, and blamed if I 
 know which way to go," said the shivering man. 
 His horse drooped his head, and was asleep in a 
 moment. 
 
 "That won't do! He '11 freeze if he goes to 
 sleep, same as a man ! " thought Felix, and gave 
 him a blow to rouse him. Then he loosed him 
 from the wagon. There was a ragged old com- 
 forter, the only carriage blanket Felix could boast. 
 He shook it clear of snow, and threw it over the 
 horse, and, fighting against the wind, managed to 
 secure it under the harness, so as to give the poor 
 beast some protection. 
 
 "The wind is northwest. I must sheer off a 
 bit, — not face it square. But I might go by 
 Holt's a rod east or west and never know it. 
 I 'm bad off. That 's a fact." He thought this 
 rather than uttered it; for his whole frame was 
 shaking with cold, and he had no energy left to 
 expend in words. 
 
226 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 He went on a little way. Then his horse 
 stopped again, and was asleep. All Felix's efforts 
 to urge him on were vain. " He 's just freezin' 
 in his tracks, and that 's what I 'm goin' 
 to do if I don't look sharp," was his mental 
 comment. 
 
 Again he tried, by usage so rough that his own 
 heart recoiled, to rouse the horse to further effort. 
 It was useless. 
 
 Felix drew off the comforter, and wrapped it 
 round his own benumbed form, and leaving the 
 horse to his fate, pushed on in what he thought 
 might be the right direction. 
 
 The comforter was some protection. He could 
 at least keep the snow from incrusting his face, 
 with its help. But he was nearly despairing ; for 
 he knew he might struggle on for hours, if he 
 could hold out so long, and never find his way to 
 a house. 
 
 "I must have got past Holt's long and long 
 ago; and get home through this blizzard I never 
 can," was his mental conclusion, and for a mo- 
 ment he sank down on a drift with his back to 
 the wind. But he knew better than to allow 
 himself to sit still. He resisted the longing for 
 
THE BLIZZARD. 227 
 
 just a few minutes more of rest. He knew that 
 to yield would be speedy death. 
 
 He began to stumble about in any direction, 
 trying to find a place where the snow had drifted 
 deep. He had heard of people in like desperate 
 circumstances burrowing into the snow, and sav- 
 ing themselves by the protection it afforded. He 
 found a tolerably large drift, and began to hollow 
 out a grave in its depths, much doubting whether 
 he should ever come out of it alive, but so be- 
 numbed was he, by this time, that he seemed to 
 care very little w^hether he did or not. To get 
 in out of the wind, and rest, was all he hoped 
 for. 
 
 Morning came, and the storm had passed. The 
 wind was still keenly cold, and the snow had 
 drifted into the cabin at every possible crevice; 
 but there was a power in the bright sunbeams to 
 enliven and cheer all hearts and dispel thoughts 
 of danger, and with good courage the children, 
 under Miss Felicia's direction and with her help, 
 began to shovel, and sweep and clear out the 
 snow and make ready to go about their usual 
 morning work. 
 
228 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "I guess pa stayed at Mr. Holt's. That 's as 
 far as he would want to come facing the storm, I 
 reckon," said Rolfe. "He '11 be home by and 
 
 by." 
 
 Miss Felicia felt uncomfortable when she 
 thought how easily he might have lost his 
 way, even in going -one mile. She only waited 
 to see the cabin cleared of snow, and a good fire 
 burning in the stove, and then hurried home, on 
 the plea that she must get breakfast for her own 
 folks. 
 
 As soon as the Lewis family had taken a 
 hurried breakfast the horses were harnessed, and 
 the men set off to open the road and find out if 
 their neighbor was safe. They went straight to 
 Mr. Holt's house first. As Felix had not been 
 there they went on, thinking he might have gone 
 to the house of his employer, which was not far 
 from the saw-mill. 
 
 When they became convinced that he had at- 
 tempted to reach home, they summoned help, and 
 all the neighborhood turned out to make thorough 
 search for him. 
 
 After a few hours some one came upon Felix*s 
 horse. He lay upon his side, dead, and the snow 
 
THE BLIZZARD. 229 
 
 had drifted around and over him, nearly hiding 
 his poor bony frame from sight. Judging that 
 Felix would be found in the immediate vicinity, 
 the call was given that summoned all to the spot, 
 and the search was confined to a smaller radius. 
 Every drift Avas scanned and probed, and it was 
 not long before that in which Felix lay hidden 
 was discovered, and he was taken out more dead 
 than alive. They carried him at once to Mr. 
 Holt's house and all that they knew how to do 
 was done to restore him. Hands and feet were 
 frozen, and the little life that was left in him 
 seemed but a spark that the lightest breath would 
 extinguish. 
 
 Albert Lewis was sent for a doctor and also to 
 bring home Dean and Dio. On his way he 
 stopped to tell his sister the result of the search, 
 that she might break the news of their father's 
 condition to his children in the cabin. 
 
230 BILLOW PRAIRIE, 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE INVALID. 
 
 It was a sad home-coming for Dean and Dio. 
 For the first few days both were at Mr. Holt's 
 house with their father, whose life hung by a 
 thread. Then Dio went home to prepare for the 
 coming of the invalid, while Dean remained to 
 take care of him. For Felix's one desire seemed 
 to be to get home. He fretted and pined for 
 home, seeming to feel that if he could once get 
 there he would leave behind the pain and prostra- 
 tion that were the result of his terrible exposure. 
 So, when the weather became mild again, he was 
 laid on a bed in a wagon and carefully conveyed 
 to his cabin. 
 
 His neighbors, who had faithfully ministered to 
 him in his trouble, felt that suffering was likely 
 to complete the work that exposure had begun, 
 and death would soon remove the maimed and 
 helpless father from his family. They did their 
 best for him ; but each had home cares of his own, 
 
THE INVALID, 231 
 
 and after he came home he was left more to the 
 care of his children. 
 
 It was weary work for Dean and Dio; for all 
 their father's natural good humor and easy con- 
 tentment had vanished with illness, and he be- 
 moaned himself continually, and was as peevish 
 and exacting as an invalid could well be. 
 
 The doctor had declared amputation of the 
 right hand and foot necessary, from the first; but 
 Felix could by no means be brought to consent to 
 this, although informed that his life might be the 
 penalty of his refusal. After much needless 
 suffering the necessity became obvious, even to 
 himself, and they were removed; but the delay 
 had much lessened his chances of recovery, and 
 the hand and foot that remained, having been 
 badly frozen also, were the more slow in heal- 
 ing because of the lessened vitality of the 
 whole system. A cough set in, slight at first, 
 but frequent and harassing, and of increasing 
 violence. 
 
 The poor man could not but see that if he 
 recovered he must henceforth be a helpless burden 
 upon his children, since the lost hand and foot 
 were on the same side, making the use of 
 
232 BILLOW PRAIRIE, 
 
 a crutch impossible. This knowledge caused 
 frequent periods of severe depression. Yet he 
 never seemed to contemplate any issue but 
 recovery. 
 
 "I '11 get out o' this, and set up awhile to- 
 morrer mornin'," he said each day, when his 
 neighbors came to see him. " I 'm too tired like 
 to-day." 
 
 Miss Felicia was more gentle and kind to him 
 in his illness than she had ever dared to be in 
 former days. She came daily, and brought such 
 delicacies as were suited to his enfeebled condi- 
 tion, and she tried faithfully and earnestly to 
 lead him to make some preparation for the change 
 that must soon come to him. 
 
 But Felix was always "too tired like to-day," 
 to talk or think about the interests of his poor 
 soul ; and he persistently refused to see, what to 
 everyone else was plain, that day by day he was 
 growing weaker. He still talked about getting 
 well. 
 
 Dean was full of concern about his father. He 
 prayed for him constantly ; but Felix would listen 
 to none of Dean's appeals, or even hear him read 
 from the Bible. He said it tired him, and he 
 
THE INVALID. 233 
 
 would attend to these things when he got better. 
 "No use to try to think of anything when a body 
 lies bedfast," he said. "I 've bothered my brains 
 more 'n a little to contrive a crutch that I could 
 walk with, but I jest can't make out nothin'. 
 Must wait till I get well." 
 
 One afternoon the minister, who now came 
 once a month to preach in the schoolhouse, made 
 him a visit, and urged upon him the necessity of 
 immediate repentance and casting himself upon 
 the mercy of the Saviour of sinners, telling him 
 plainly that he had not long to live. 
 
 "Wall, Preacher," said Felix, "I '11 tell ye 
 how 't is. I never felt like I wanted to be reli- 
 gious, — that is to say, to go in deep. I have n't 
 never been no great of a sinner, though I don't 
 claim I 've been perfect by no means. But I 've 
 been a poor man with a living to get, and I 
 could n't let religion, nor nothin' else, bender me 
 from gettin' ahead. But I was always afeard of 
 goin' to that other place the Bible tells about, and 
 I meant to do somethin' in time. I 'm mighty 
 bad to-day, that 's a fact, but it 's my bad day. 
 Every other day I 'm a lee tie better. To-morrer 
 '11 be my good day, and to-morrer" — A fit of 
 
234 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 coughing interrupted the expression of his good 
 intentions, and left him so prostrated that it was 
 impossible to talk with him any more. 
 
 That night he died. The morrow never came 
 for Felix. 
 
A TEAM. 235 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A TEAM. 
 
 Mr. Budd had requested Dean to write him 
 news of his father's condition, and how things 
 were likely to turn as to his coming hack to work 
 for him. The six months for which he had 
 engaged himself were nearly ended when he was 
 called home. Dean had written; and he wrote 
 again, after his father's death, to say that it 
 seemed to him that he ought to remain at home. 
 This letter brought Mr. Budd out to Billow 
 Prairie to see him. 
 
 He offered such good terms for a fresh engage- 
 ment, which he wished to make for a year, that 
 Dean was surprised. 
 
 " I wish I could accept your terms, Mr. Budd. 
 There is nothing I should like better than to 
 come back to you," he replied. "But Dio and 
 I are bound to stay here and take care of the 
 children. Our mother left them to us, and 
 there 's nobody else. Marvel is good to help, but 
 
236 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 he can't plan work, and he 's lame. Rolfe has 
 an old head on his shoulders, but he 's only a 
 little boy. You see how it is, sir; I can't go 
 away from the children." 
 
 "Well, Dean, I don't see as I ought to urge 
 you. But I am sorry to lose you, and I could 
 make it to your advantage to come. It seems a 
 little hard that your prospects in life must be 
 sacrificed. You are meant for a mechanic. You 
 don't like farming? " 
 
 " Not as well as I wish I did, as I 've got it to 
 do. But I 'm going to take hold of it and do 
 my best," said Dean bravely. 
 
 "And you '11 have to work at a disadvantage," 
 continued Mr. Budd. " Your father lost his horse. 
 You have no team, then, have you ? " 
 
 " No, sir. But my father had been saving up 
 money to buy one, and we 've a little over fifty 
 dollars left now. The doctor was so kind he 
 would not be paid at present. He said any time 
 when we had got ahead enough to pay it easily, 
 he would be glad of it, but not till then." 
 
 "Fifty dollars won't buy a team," remarked 
 Mr. Budd. 
 
 " I thought perhaps I could buy a horse of some 
 
A TEAM. 237 
 
 kind," said Dean. "We must make one do, 
 now." 
 
 " I have a pair of horses that I ' ve been think- 
 ing of selling," said Mr. Budd. "My bay mare 
 is a little tender-footed, and she '11 never get over 
 it while I have to use her constantly on the city 
 streets. Out here on a farm she would be all 
 right. She 's a good creature, worth a hundred 
 and twenty-five dollars if her feet were sound. 
 You may have her for fifty; and if ever you 're 
 dissatisfied with your bargain, I '11 take her 
 again, and give you your money." 
 
 "You can't mean Nell! Why, Mr. Budd! 
 She 's worth a good deal more than fifty dollars. 
 Dissatisfied! I guess not! I know Nell too 
 well! I shall be so pleased to have her, and I 
 thank you so much, Mr. Budd! " 
 
 "Then there 's Dick. He 's getting a trifle 
 old, but he 's sound and strong. I ought to have 
 a better horse for my work, but Dick would be 
 useful to you for some years. You may have 
 Dick for fifty, and I 've an old set of harnesses 
 that I '11 throw in; not very valuable, but it '11 
 serve you till you can get new." 
 
 "Mr. Budd, you 're very generous to me," said 
 Dean. "I don't know how to thank you." 
 
238 BILLOW PRAIBIE. 
 
 "Well, I owe you something, Dean. You 
 were worth more to me those six months than I 
 paid you; but I thought it best to keep to the 
 bargain, and I meant to make it up to you in 
 some way. Nell 's worth seventy-five of any- 
 body's money, and Dick nearly as much. You 
 can pay me the fifty, and give me your note for 
 fifty more, without interest. It is n't good in 
 law, because you 're a minor, but I know I can 
 trust you to pay. It 's best to have the note to 
 show what the bargain is. " 
 
 With trembling fingers Dean set about writing 
 the note. It seemed too good to be true. With 
 a suitable team it would not be half the sacrifice 
 to leave the work he preferred, and go to farm- 
 ing. Indeed, his enthusiasm began to rise at once 
 at the thought of owning such a pair of horses as 
 Nell and Dick. 
 
 "I '11 pay it just as soon as I can,*' he said, as 
 he handed the note to Mr. Budd. 
 
 "I 'm sorry to lose you, on Harry's account as 
 well as on my own," said Mr. Budd, as he folded 
 the note, and put it in his pocket-book. "But 
 the boy has got a good start now, in the right 
 direction. If you ever leave the farm for other 
 
A TEAM, 239 
 
 work, come to me, and I '11 have a place ready for 
 you. When '11 you come up and get your team? 
 Suppose you ride up with me this afternoon, and 
 stay till to-morrow, or longer if you can. Mrs. 
 Budd would be glad to see you, and Harr}^ will 
 be delighted." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Budd. I will go. I '11 be 
 ready in a few minutes," said Dean. 
 
 He retired behind the curtain to dress for the 
 expedition, and Mr. Budd occupied the time by 
 making the acquaintance of the younger children, 
 and talking with Dio. Marvel was away work- 
 ing for Mr. Lewis, in payment for certain work he 
 had done during the illness of his father. Rolfe 
 was with him. Dean had remained at home that 
 day to make the garden. 
 
 "Are you contented here?" Mr. Budd asked 
 Dio. " Do you like the country as well as the city ? " 
 
 "Better," said Dio. "I like to be at home, 
 and I like to be with Dean. Then I always felt 
 crowded and shut in, in the city. I enjoy the 
 freedom of the open country, and the greenness 
 and freshness of everything. But I liked the 
 meetings there, and some other things that we 
 can't have here." 
 
240 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 "How is it about your farm? I think Dean 
 told me once that his father had not secured his 
 title." 
 
 " Father was always intending to do something 
 about it, but he never did. It required some 
 money, and there are so many uses for money on 
 a new farm, that he always thought he wanted it 
 more for something else." 
 
 "He had entered upon the land, I suppose." 
 
 " Why, no, sir, I believe he had done nothing. 
 A man named Harris entered upon it, and built 
 this cabin. He was a roving sort of a fellow, and 
 soon left it to go farther west. Then John 
 Faxon, an old neighbor of ours, who had been 
 here a year or two, wrote to father about it, and 
 we moved right down here." 
 
 Dean now came out from his retirement, having 
 heard through the curtain all that had been said. 
 
 "Mr. Budd," said he, "I 've often felt troubled 
 because that business has not been attended to. 
 Father thought it was safe so long as we live 
 here, whether we have a title or not. Do you 
 think so?" 
 
 "I do not," said Mr. Budd emphatically. "I 
 am very sure you are running a great risk of 
 
A TEAM. 241 
 
 losing it, especially now that the country is fill- 
 ing up so fast." 
 
 " Then if you would add one more favor to the 
 many you have shown me, and help or advise me 
 in the matter, I should be very thankful." 
 
 "I will. We will attend to it at once," said 
 his friend. 
 
 They rode away, and after watching them out 
 of sight, Dio and her sisters returned to their 
 work in the garden — work in which Dio took far 
 more pleasure than she had ever done in Mrs. 
 Lapham's kitchen. 
 
 They had a good variety of seeds to sow, for 
 Dio had bought some with her own money. 
 Since she had begun to be a reader she found 
 there was much in the world worth having, of 
 which she had never dreamed ; and a few agricul- 
 tural papers had aroused her enthusiasm on the 
 subject of sweet-corn, early pease, spinach, etc., 
 till she was full of eager ambition about the 
 garden, and spent upon it every moment she 
 could spare from her other duties. 
 
 On their arrival in the city, Mr. Budd and 
 Dean went at once to attend to the important 
 business of securing the title to the farm. When 
 
242 BILLOW PRAIRIE, 
 
 all had been done that was proper and necessary 
 in the matter, Dean, with lightened heart, went 
 to enjoy his visit. He had still some hours to 
 spend with his friends, as it was not four o'clock 
 when he surprised Mrs. Budd by presenting him- 
 self before her. 
 
 She was greatly pleased to see him, and took it 
 for granted that he had come to stay, and ap- 
 peared quite disappointed when Dean told her he 
 could only stay one night. Harry came in almost 
 immediately, and the two boys went to take a 
 look at Dean's new property. 
 
 "I do believe Nell remembers me," said Dean 
 as the gentle creature turned and greeted him 
 with a soft neighing. "Nell, do you know you 
 are mine ! — mine ! Oh, Harry, I am so pleased ! 
 I do think you have the very best father that 
 ever was." 
 
 "I think so too," replied Harry. Yet in his 
 secret heart he thought it strange that Dean, 
 having just lost his father, could make such a 
 speech. But Dean could not pretend what he 
 did not feel. He had felt yqvj sorry for his 
 father, and had shed some natural tears at his 
 death; but he could not help knowing that he was 
 
A TEAM. 243 
 
 not such a father as Harry had, nor could he force 
 himself to imagine great virtues where none had 
 existed, now that he was gone. He had intended 
 no comparison, but simply spoke as he thought 
 and felt. 
 
 The evening was one of unmixed pleasure, — 
 at least the only alloy was that Dean must leave 
 for home quite early in the morning, as the 
 spring work was urgent. 
 
 Marvel and Rolfe were as much pleased, when 
 they came home, to hear of the new acquisition, 
 as the rest had been. It was quite a sacrifice for 
 them to go away to their work again in the morn- 
 ing, before Dean could get home, for they were so 
 eager to see the horses. But they owed Mr. 
 Lewis the work. He had been most friendly in 
 helping them at a time when it was impossible, on 
 account of the loss of their horse, and their father's 
 illness, for them to accomplish much. And one 
 of Marvel's excellent points was an absolute 
 faithfulness in the performance of a promise. 
 He had promised Mr. Lewis, and he was off at 
 the earliest possible moment after breakfast. 
 Rolfe went with him, for he could be useful too. 
 
 So when Dean came in sight, riding Nell and 
 
244 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 leading Dick, there were only the girls to wel- 
 come him, but they had been on the watch for 
 hours, — long before he could possibly be ex- 
 pected, — and came out a good distance to meet 
 him, and there was great and gleeful excitement, 
 in which even little Mattie had a share. 
 
 "Lift her up, Dio, and she shall have a ride 
 home on our Nell," said Dean joyfully. "I 'd 
 take you too, if I could," he added, seeing Lottie 
 looking wistfully. "I can't manage but one 
 now." 
 
 Dio lifted Mattie, and her black eyes shone 
 with pleasure as she rode home with Dean's arm 
 around her. 
 
 After an hour's rest Dean harnessed his horses 
 to the plow, and went out to the field, so happy, 
 and thankful, that he quite forgot that this was 
 not the work that, of all others, he preferred. 
 
NEW PLANS. 246 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 NEW PLANS. 
 
 "We must have a new house," said Dio, one 
 day in July when the wheat was fast ripening. 
 "This isn't decent." 
 
 "We must pay our debts," said Dean. 
 
 "Of course," responded Dio. "Do you suppose 
 there will be enough ? " She meant of the money 
 the wheat would bring. 
 
 "I hope so," said Dean. "It *s a good crop. 
 Better than last year." 
 
 "And not any more than enough?" 
 
 "Why," said Dean. "There are the other ex- 
 penses ; clothes, and shoes, and groceries, and " — 
 
 "I '11 trust the poultry and eggs to buy the 
 groceries, now that we 've so many," said Dio 
 quickly, interrupting him. 
 
 "Yes," said Dean. "Perhaps they will; but," 
 — he hesitated, for it was hard to destroy the 
 hopes of his sister. He did n't wonder she felt 
 cramped in the little log cabin, after the ample 
 
246 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 rooms of Mrs. Lapham's house. And in very 
 truth it was n't a decent habitation for this 
 large family of growing boys and girls. But 
 the necessity was imperative, so he went on: 
 "There are tools I must buy, Dio. Our little 
 plow was made for a single horse. We can't 
 depend upon it for another year. And we need 
 a harrow. We can't borrow such things. We 
 waste time going after them and returning them ; 
 and it 's no end of inconvenience. You see, 
 Twinnie, tools to work with must come first. 
 And we need more than we shall be able to get 
 this year." 
 
 "I know it, Dean. But we just can't live this 
 way two years longer. We must have at least 
 another room. With one more room, and a cellar 
 under it, I could make butter to sell. But what 
 can I do in this one room ? There 's no place to 
 set the milk." 
 
 Dean was silent, looking wistfully and sorrow- 
 fully in his sister's face. 
 
 "How much would it cost?" demanded Dio. 
 "Just the cheapest and plainest kind of a 
 room?" 
 
 " Well, if Marv and I do all the work, and we 
 
NEW PLANS. 247 
 
 could at odd times, it might not cost more than 
 fifty dollars." 
 
 " Three in fifty is, — let me see ! — about seven- 
 teen weeks." 
 
 "What are you reckoning?" said Dean, laugh- 
 ing. " Three in fifty is seventeen weeks ! " 
 
 "I 'm reckoning how long I should have to 
 work for Mrs. Lapham to get fifty dollars. I 
 might go back for awhile, I suppose. You and 
 Vinnie could get along." 
 
 "Mrs. Lapham has got somebody else by this 
 time," said Dean. 
 
 "Well, there are other places, plenty of them. 
 Perhaps I could get more than three dollars. My 
 clothes would cost some more than they would at 
 home, so I reckon I should have to stay half a 
 year." 
 
 "And I could earn the same money in half the 
 time. I think I 'd better go, and let you stay 
 here," said Dean, "if Mr. Budd would take me 
 for so short a time. Maybe he would n't." 
 
 "If only we could both go," sighed Dio. "I 
 should be so lonesome without you." 
 
 " And I should be lonesome too. But I would 
 write to you every week, and you would write to 
 
248 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 me, and the time would pass, and we should have 
 our new room to pay." 
 
 The plan was thought over, and talked over, 
 and prayed over, till the wheat was harvested, 
 and threshed, and sold, and then, one day in 
 August, with the money in his hands to pay the 
 doctor's bill and the note to Mr. Budd, Dean 
 went up to the city. Dio went with him to make 
 her fall purchases, and they took Lottie because it 
 was "her turn" to have an outing. 
 
 "We ought to have a Society of Christian 
 Endeavor on Billow Prairie," said Dio, as they 
 rode along. It was not the first time this had 
 been said. But it had not yet been acted upon. 
 " And if you go away we cannot, for a long time 
 at least." 
 
 They were still pondering the question of Dean's 
 going back to Mr. Budd. In fact, they had quite 
 concluded that he must go, if Mr. Budd should 
 want him. 
 
 " If I don't go till the corn is harvested, and I 
 don't see how I can, we could begin one right 
 away," Dean replied. "If it was well started it 
 would go on. The Lewis boys will take hold of 
 it in earnest, I know." 
 
NEW PLANS. 249 
 
 "Yes," said Dio. "Well, I suppose it will be 
 settled to-day whether you are to go, or not. I 
 don't know whether I shall be gladdest to have 
 a new room to the house, or to keep you at 
 home." 
 
 "Then you can't fail to be glad whichever way 
 it is," said Dean. "I do think we must have the 
 room. But, anyway, we '11 have a new window 
 in the cabin. We might have had that before 
 now. Two windows will make it much pleas- 
 anter, and it will cost but a trifle." 
 
 " Another thing that we almost must have is a 
 stove," said Dio. "I 'm really afraid the one 
 we 've used so long, — always I guess," with a 
 little laugh, "will fall to pieces some day, and 
 set the cabin on fire. And we ought to get some 
 fruit-trees." 
 
 "Yes," said Dean. "The trees are very im- 
 portant. If they were once set out they would 
 be all the time growing." 
 
 "Oh, dear! " said Dio. "How many things we 
 do need! I 've laid awake nights thinking about 
 it." 
 
 Dean looked round into his sister's healthy, 
 happy face, and laughed a little incredulously. 
 
250 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "I guess you don't lie awake nights very often, 
 or very long," said he. 
 
 "But I truly do," asserted Dio. "It makes me 
 feel sick when I see the fruit the Lewises and the 
 Boyds have set out, and we have n't a thing but 
 the peach-trees I planted. Miss Felicia says I 
 may bud them from those they bought, and she 
 will show me how, so I can do it myself. But I 
 do want apple and pear and cherry trees. Let 's 
 go without everything else, and buy some." 
 
 "Well, — everything we can," said Dean. 
 
 When Dean came to talk with Mr. Budd he 
 found himself obliged to modify his plans. Mr. 
 Budd did not wish to hire him for less than six 
 months, and would like to have him come in 
 September. Dean conferred with Dio. It was 
 twice as long a time as they had contemplated. 
 
 "He offers me seven dollars a week and 
 board," said Dean. "We could have the new 
 stove, and the trees, and the room too, if I 
 stayed six months. A good large room too, 
 with two full-sized windows." 
 
 Dio's courage rose in view of such induce- 
 ments. 
 
 " I reckon Marvel and Rolfe could manage the 
 
NEW PLANS. 261 
 
 work. I can help them if it is necessary, " said 
 she thoughtfully. " I think it is best for you to 
 go. But we shall have no Christian Endeavor 
 Society." 
 
 "Yes, we will," said Dean. "We '11 start one 
 next Sunday. I can call and get all the material 
 I want for a beginning, as we go home. Al 
 Lewis will take hold of it, if I put the idea into 
 his head." 
 
 "It won't be half as pleasant without you," 
 sighed Dio. 
 
 "It will be pleasant, and useful too, I hope," 
 said Dean. "And you shall not wait long for 
 your new stove, Dio. The very first money I get 
 shall buy it. It is too bad for you to get along 
 with that old thing. So cheer up, and let 's 
 enjoy what time we have together. The six 
 months will soon pass." 
 
 "I can make good bread, such as I learned to 
 make at Mrs. Lapham's, if we have a stove," said 
 Dio brightening up. 
 
 She was soon talking cheerfully of all their 
 hopes and plans. And if a shade of sadness did 
 now and then cross her sky, she did not let it be 
 visible to her brother's eyes. 
 
252 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 Dean took the first opportunity to see Albert 
 and John Lewis, and describe to them the new 
 society, which had but just got into good work- 
 ing order in Elm City before he came away. 
 They seized upon the idea at once, and were as 
 enthusiastic as Dean had hoped. They promised 
 to see the Boyds, and others, and talk it up before 
 the Sabbath. 
 
 Dean had procured a copy of the Constitution 
 and By-laws; and this they all studied diligently 
 in the evenings, sometimes at one and sometimes 
 at the other of the two homes. 
 
 Miss Felicia was as deeply interested in the 
 new plans as any one, but she would take no 
 leading part. "I will be an Honorary Member," 
 said she; "that 's the place for me. The younger 
 ones must be the Active Members." And to this 
 idea she held fast, notwithstanding the urgency of 
 Dean and Dio, who would gladly have made her 
 prominent. 
 
 The first meeting was appointed for Sabbath 
 afternoon, at four o'clock. All the young people 
 were there, ready to take part in any movement 
 that promised to increase their social opportuni- 
 ties. There were not many among them who 
 
NEW PLANS. 253 
 
 could be counted upon as active members. They 
 did not attempt a regular organization at the first 
 meeting. The time was spent in explaining the 
 objects and methods of the new society, in circu- 
 lating the pledges, and talking over the possi- 
 bilities in their own neighborhood. 
 
 It was natural that Dean Windom should take 
 the lead in this movement because he was already 
 an Active Member of the Society. Before circu- 
 lating the pledge cards he read the pledge aloud, 
 that all might see exactly what was required, and 
 be prepared intelligently to sign or refuse to 
 sign. Therefore some declined to take the cards. 
 
 "I shall have to be an Associate," said Marion 
 Boyd, a pretty, frivolous girl. "That 's too 
 serious for me." 
 
 Her brothers. Maxwell and Horace, took the 
 cards offered them, exchanging jocular winks and 
 nudges, as if they were disposed to turn the 
 whole matter to ridicule. Others followed their 
 example, or Marion's. A few took them with 
 the serious purpose of giving thoughtful consider- 
 ation to the matter. 
 
 If Dio had been asked, at any time previous to 
 her stay in Elm City, whether or not she was a 
 
264 BILLOW PRAIBIE. 
 
 Christian, she would probably have been at a loss 
 what answer to make. Little by little, she had 
 been led by her brother and Miss Felicia into 
 the habits of a Christian; and she had come, she 
 knew not how, into the feelings of a Christian. 
 She prayed with sincerity and earnestness. She 
 tried to do right in the fear of God. She trusted 
 her sins were forgiven because of the promise " If 
 we confess our sins He is faithful and just to 
 forgive us our sins," and feeling seriously that 
 she was a sinner, she had confessed it, and asked 
 pardon for the past, and help for the future. And 
 so, when in Elm City the pledge had been offered 
 her, she had read it over thoughtfully once. or 
 twice, and then said, "Why, yes! I can sign 
 that. It 's exactly what I want to do." 
 
 Marvel was pleased to have a card offered to 
 him, and quite eager to become a member of the 
 new society. After they got home Dean care- 
 fully explained to him again all the good he 
 hoped it might do, and read and re-read the 
 words on the card, to be sure he fully understood 
 and appreciated the importance of his act in sign- 
 ing his name to such solemn promises. Then, 
 after much practice at writing his name. Marvel 
 
NEW PLANS. 255 
 
 scrawled it, in his uncouth, imperfect fashion, at 
 the bottom of the card. 
 
 Carrie Williams surprised and pleased Dio by 
 bringing back her card signed. She was as shy 
 and silent in company as ever, though fearless 
 enough when galloping, without saddle or bridle, 
 on one of her father's horses, over the prairie. 
 She whispered, as she put the card into Dio's 
 hand, "I don't know as I can take a part in the 
 meetings. Don't seem as if I could! I '11 try, 
 though." She fulfilled her promise faithfully by 
 the weekly recitation of a verse of Scripture, but 
 in so low a tone that no one beyond her imme- 
 diate vicinity could possibly hear what she said. 
 It was some time before she advanced beyond 
 this. 
 
 Horace Boyd returned his, unsigned, with the 
 brief, frank answer, "Too religious." Max 
 neither signed nor returned his. "I lost it," was 
 his excuse. But these had had no religious train- 
 ing in the home, and great dearth of influence or 
 instruction elsewhere. They continued to come 
 to the meetings, but evidently only for the social 
 opportunities they afforded. 
 
 At the second meeting Albert Lewis was 
 
256 BILLOW PRAiniE. 
 
 chosen President. He was quiet, and retiring, 
 and would gladly have yielded the first place to 
 Dio, who was fearless and energetic. But Dio 
 would only consent to take the second place. 
 There were so few active members that none were 
 left without some office. Dean accepted that of 
 corresponding secretary, which, in his case, was 
 to mean frequent letters to the Billow Prairie 
 Society during his absence, telling anything of 
 interest in the meetings he should attend in Elm 
 City, and giving them any hints he could gather 
 for their advantage. John Lewis and Dio were 
 on the Lookout Committee. Seven active mem- 
 bers were all they could count. 
 
Improvements, 257 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 IMPROVEMENTS. 
 
 "I don't know whom to look out for, I 'm 
 sure," said Dio one evening, as she with her little 
 sisters and the Lewis boys were walking home- 
 ward together. "Nobody can do anything with 
 those Boyds. To think of their asking if we 
 could n't have a little dance after the Society! " 
 
 " I guess there was a little sly mischief about 
 that! They wanted to shock you. They are no 
 fools," said Albert. 
 
 "But they are so coarse and rough! I asked 
 Horace if he would n't help us by just learning a 
 Bible verse to repeat in the meetings, and the 
 only answer I got was one of his big horse 
 laughs." 
 
 "I think," said Albert, "the best way is to let 
 them alo^e for awhile. They don't really know 
 anything about religion. They think it is only 
 good to have when one is old or dying. You 
 and I know that it 's good to live by : a comfort 
 
258 BILLOW PRAllilA 
 
 and blessing and help all the way; but they Ve 
 got that to learn. I 've heard, or read, that to 
 speak to people on the subject of religion effect- 
 ually, one ought to have done a deal of praying 
 for them first. Let 's try that, and just be 
 friendly with them, and try to have them come 
 regularly to the meetings. Marion is beginning 
 to be a help about the singing. I hope they will 
 work in after awhile." 
 
 " Yes, Marion can sing ; and once I heard the 
 boys singing a foolish negro melody, as they were 
 riding past our house, just at evening. They 
 have grand voices." 
 
 "You '11 hear them singing something better 
 next time perhaps," said Albert hopefully. 
 
 About the first of November there was a new 
 acquisition to the neighborhood, and to the new 
 society. Mr. Holt's only daughter, whose home 
 had been in Ohio, died, leaving one child, a girl 
 of fifteen. Her father being of a restless, change- 
 able disposition, and unsettled by the death of his 
 wife, wished to go and seek his fortune in the Far 
 West, and sent his daughter to live with her 
 grandparents. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Holt were delighted to receive 
 
IMPROVEMENTS. 259 
 
 the little Silence into their home. She was a 
 gentle girl, pale and small for her age, but very 
 self-possessed and womanly. She had been her 
 mother's dependence and almost her sole compan- 
 ion through the long period of her decline, and 
 her character had thus been developed rapidly, 
 and somewhat at the expense of her physical 
 nature. 
 
 Silence Parker soon showed that she was a 
 Christian, neither afraid nor ashamed to be 
 known as such. Die's invitation to join the 
 Society was promptly accepted. She was the 
 seventh active member, and the term proved no 
 misnomer in her case. 
 
 Dio was soon on terms of friendship with 
 Silence. They were not much alike, but they 
 found that they were congenial. Dio was a good 
 talker; Silence was a good listener. Dio was 
 impulsive and sometimes rash; Silence was con- 
 servative. Dio admired the fine tact, the 
 womanly ways, the quick intuitions in matters 
 of dress that made Silence look like a picture 
 whether she was in her blue checked gingham 
 spatting the butter in her grandmother's kitchen, 
 or cantering in her dark habit on her pretty gray 
 
260 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 pony up the slope to the schoolhouse to take 
 her part in the meetings. 
 
 Silence's pony was a necessity. It was a good 
 deal to ask of her grandfather, at his age, to 
 drive the four miles a second time on the Sabbath 
 for her sake ; and she had written to her father, 
 who was very indulgent, and always seemed to 
 have plenty of money, that she needed a pony, 
 and the money was forth-coming. Bonnibel was 
 as gentle and docile as a creature could well be, 
 and Silence's grandparents soon came to the con- 
 clusion that no harm was likely to come to their 
 pet in her rides. The meetings were always held 
 at an early hour, so that all could get home 
 before dark. Inspired by the example of Carrie 
 Williams and Silence Parker, Dio began to prac- 
 tice riding on Nell's back, and soon was able to 
 return her friends' visits without walking the 
 distance, or calling upon Marvel to harness the 
 horses and take her. 
 
 One incident that occurred about a month after 
 Dean left home has not been mentioned. 
 
 Max Boyd drove up in front of the Windom 
 cabin late one afternoon, and jumping down from 
 the wagon came to the door, which stood open, 
 
IMPROVEMENTS. 261 
 
 and showed his broad good-natured face covered 
 with smiles. 
 
 "I 've brought ye a present, Dio," he said. 
 "Dean sent it, and I promised to set it up fur 
 
 ye-" 
 
 "Oh! my new stove! " exclaimed Dio, glancing 
 into the wagon, and seeing what freight it con- 
 tained. "I 'm so glad! I thank you ever so 
 much for bringing it, Max." 
 
 "No consequence about thanks. I was up to 
 the city, and Dean was a watchin' a chance fur to 
 send it to ye. Reckon yer want that old un set 
 out first, about four miles away." 
 
 "Yes, and there 's a fire in it," said Dio. "I 
 was just going to get supper." 
 
 "Then I '11 have to wait a spell, fur I 'm 
 bound to set up that stove fur ye." 
 
 The sight of the new stove inspired Dio with 
 a desire to surprise her brothers and sisters with a 
 supper to which they had long been strangers. 
 She would make biscuits — such biscuits as she 
 used to make at Mrs. Lapham's. There was yet 
 time. 
 
 "We '11 put the fire out," said she, bringing 
 the water-pail. "We '11 soon have the old thing 
 
262 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 cool enough to move;" and she took off the 
 covers, and began to sprinkle water upon the 
 coals. 
 
 "Don't keer a straw if ye crack it, do ye?" 
 said Max with a big laugh. 
 
 "No," said Dio merrily. "It may crack all to 
 pieces now if it wants to." 
 
 Max came and stood beside her, and they 
 sprinkled with liberal hands. The gas and 
 smoke rose in their faces suffocatingly ; but they 
 only laughed and persisted, and soon the fire was 
 out. Then, with big cloths to protect their 
 hands, they carried the old stove out behind the 
 house and left it there; and the new one, com- 
 plete in every part, and shining with blackness, 
 was set up in its place. 
 
 "Kittles and pans a plenty come with it! " said 
 Max exultantly, coming in laden with a goodly 
 number of articles that he knew Dio would be 
 delighted to have. 
 
 Max enjoyed the situation extremely. He was 
 jocular and helpful; bringing a fresh pail of 
 water from the well to fill the shining new tea- 
 kettle, and driving nails on which to hang the 
 various utensils for which there was no place 
 
IMPROVEMENTS. 263 
 
 ready. When there was nothing more that he 
 could do, he still lingered to watch the fire roar- 
 ing up the chimney, till the confidence developed 
 by a common interest, and the consciousness of 
 being useful suddenly deserted him, and, seized 
 with returning awkwardness and bashfulness, he 
 took a hurried departure. 
 
 From that time, however. Maxwell was on a 
 little easier terms with Dio. He had something 
 to talk about at least; and every time they met 
 for weeks he inquired how that stove worked, and 
 declared that the gas he got into his lungs that 
 day choked him a bit yet, his only way of saying 
 that the pleasure of helping about the new stove 
 remained with him still. And one Sunday even- 
 ing, not long after. Max astonished everybody by 
 repeating, with some blushing and stammering, 
 his firsji Bible verse, "just to help the meetin* 
 along," as he said apologetically afterwards. 
 
 Marion too began to show interest enough to 
 learn a verse occasionally to recite. And Albert 
 Lewis' hopes were fulfilled, for the Boyds were 
 heard to sing something better than the rude 
 songs to which they had been accustomed. 
 Often, as they rode home from their work in the 
 
264 BILLOW PBAIlilE. 
 
 twilight, they might be heard afar, roaring "In 
 the sweet by and by," with astounding vehe- 
 mence. When Dio spoke of this to Albert one 
 day, deprecating such profanation of the hymns 
 she loved, he said laughingly, — 
 
 "It 's all in the way of education, Dio. They 
 are doing as well as they know. I do think they 
 are improving a little. Let us not mind how 
 they manage to get up, if only they do rise a 
 little." 
 
THE LOOK-OUT COMMITTEE. 266 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 THE LOOK-OUT COMMITTEE. 
 
 "I 'VE a new member for our Society," said 
 Silence Parker to Dio, one evening. " At least, I 
 think she would sign if you would encourage her 
 a little. It 's your sister Vinnie." 
 
 " Vinnie! " said Dio surprised. "Why, I never 
 thought of Vinnie as old enough." 
 
 "Of course she is old enough. She 's only 
 been waiting to be asked. She understands every 
 word of that pledge as well as you or I, and she 
 says she truly means to keep it. What 's to 
 hinder her being a member?" 
 
 "I 'm ashamed! I ought to have had Vinnie 
 in before," said Dio humbly. "To think that 
 I 'm on the Look-out Committee, and yet you had 
 to look out for my own sister! " 
 
 "And there 's Rolfe," said Silence. "He 's 
 old enough, and knows enough, but I can't make 
 out whether or not he cares enough. Rolfe is a 
 very silent boy, and I can't get acquainted with 
 him." 
 
266 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "I don't know about Rolfe, either," said Die, 
 "but I '11 try to know. I won't leave that for 
 somebody else to see to." 
 
 Vinnie was elected to membership, without a 
 dissenting vote, and proved herself a very faithful 
 little Endeavorer. Dean, who felt, as Dio did, 
 that he had been somewhat neglectful of this 
 young sister, wrote her a letter, all to herself, to 
 tell her how glad he was. He wrote one to Rolfe 
 too; but Rolfe, though evidently proud of his 
 letter, told no one what was in it. 
 
 Dio could not win a word from Rolfe, good or 
 bad, concerning his own feelings. He listened to 
 all she said, and sometimes he would twinkle his 
 bright black eyes, and seem all ready to speak, 
 and then swallow it down, and baffle and disap- 
 point his sister. He was always ready to go to 
 the meetings. He liked to sing, and he often re- 
 peated a verse — generally an odd sort of verse 
 that nobody but he would have thought of learn- 
 ing. Sometimes Dio objected to his verses, and 
 doubted if they were to be found in the Bible; 
 but he would turn over the leaves and find them, 
 and point them out to her in silent triumph. 
 
 There were three children, between seven and 
 
THE LOOK-OUT COMMITTEE. 267 
 
 twelve years old, in a tiny house built up half- 
 way to the eaves with turf, finished off with slabs, 
 and thatched curiously with prairie grass. This 
 house was about a mile and a half west from the 
 home of the Windoms. The inmates were the 
 latest comers to Billow Prairie, and straight from 
 the old country. Their name was Gerhardt. 
 The children had learned a little English at 
 school, but the parents could converse only in 
 German. Dio determined to look out for these 
 in season. They already attended the Sabbath- 
 School. She would get them to attend the meet- 
 ings of the Christian Endeavor as well. They 
 would then be in training for membership some- 
 time. 
 
 It was not hard to win them. German children 
 are just like any others in their fondness for 
 going where they will find company of their own 
 age. Kuna, Pauline, and Gottleib all began to 
 come every Sunday evening, and quickly devel- 
 oped an ability to sing the hymns they heard 
 there. 
 
 "It 's the first step, and all in the way of 
 education," thought Dio, as she watched their 
 plump, stolid faces. " Now, whom else can I look 
 
268 BILLOW PRAIBIE. 
 
 out for?" She thought there was no one at 
 present. Farther west, fully two miles away, 
 lived the Bradfords, a very young couple, who 
 were rejoicing over their first baby, a wee girlie 
 of less than three months. Dio did not think of 
 these parents as eligible. They were married 
 people. They had a child, and. they seemed by 
 that removed into an older class. Yet the young 
 mother was scarcely older than Dio, and most 
 lonely, and homesick, too, in her new and strange 
 surroundings, till that wonderful baby came to 
 solace her. 
 
 They brought it to the Sabbath service some- 
 times. Dio's desire to fondle the baby brought 
 her to the mother's side, and they were soon 
 acquainted. Mrs. Bradford was a gentle, appeal- 
 ing little woman. 
 
 "May n't I come to your Christian Endeavor 
 meetings?" said she. "I know they are for 
 young folks, but I 'm not very old, if I am 
 married. I want to come." 
 
 Dio almost started with surprise and dismay. 
 "I think I 'm the most stupid Look-out Committee 
 that ever was! " said she. "Why have n't I asked 
 you? Yes, indeed, you may come, and everybody 
 
THE LOOK-OUT COMMITTEE, 269 
 
 there will be glad to see you." And then, scarcely 
 giving Mrs. Bradford time to express her thanks, 
 Dio went over to John Lewis. 
 
 "John, have you asked Mr. Bradford to come 
 to our meetings ? If not, do it right away. She 
 just asked me if she might come, but I want them 
 to have a spontaneous invitation. Do it now, 
 before he gets outdoors." 
 
 She watched him till she saw him speaking to 
 Mr. Bradford, and then turned to speak to John 
 Faxon and his wife, to whom a little one had 
 lately come. 
 
 Miss Felicia did not teach school this year. 
 She had sprained her ankle badly in the summer, 
 and it continued to give her serious trouble. It 
 was all she could do to accomplish her neces- 
 sary housework. The teacher was a young 
 man, lately from the East, a stranger, but good 
 and capable. Silence Parker, Carrie Williams, 
 and Marion Boyd went to school, but Dio did 
 not. This was partly on Miss Felicia's account. 
 Dio was determined, now that she had an oppor- 
 tunity, to repay to her good friend some of the 
 care and kindness she had bestowed on her and 
 her family. She rarely missed going over every 
 
270 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 day, if only for a few minutes, and could give her 
 many a lift that was now most acceptable. 
 
 It would have been a dull winter for Miss 
 Felicia if it had not been for Dean and Dio. 
 Dean did his full share. He wrote every week to 
 Dio, and often inclosed a short letter or sent a 
 message to Miss Felicia. Sometimes he only 
 said, "You can read this to Miss Felicia, and 
 give her my love " ; which did his kind friend 
 almost as much good as if it had been addressed 
 to herself; for it showed that Dean thought of 
 her and cared for her in her trouble. 
 
 He knew Miss Felicia loved study and 
 lamented that her early opportunities for educa- 
 tion had been so meager. He learned about the 
 Chautauqua course, and immediately it came to 
 his mind that this would be exactly the thing for 
 her, at this very time; and he unselfishly set 
 aside his desire to pursue it with Dio as soon as 
 he should get home, and proposed to purchase the 
 books and send them on, that she, with Miss 
 Felicia, might begin the studies at once. 
 
 The plan was received with enthusiasm, as he 
 had expected, and the tedium of Miss Felicia's 
 confinement was greatly relieved. She saw in it 
 
THE LOOK-OUT COMMITTEE. 271 
 
 a fulfillment of years of longing and deferred hope, 
 and seized the opportunity with such zeal, and 
 worked with such faithfulness, that she would 
 have left her young companion far behind, only 
 that Dio was determined not to be left, and by 
 diligent study managed to keep up with her. 
 
 When Albert found out what was going on, he 
 was eager to study also. Miss Felicia and Dio 
 did all their work in the daytime, so the books 
 were at his disposal in the evenings when he had 
 most leisure. So they pursued their studies in- 
 dependently; but there were stormy days when 
 Albert was at leisure, and then he would come 
 with his own gay young team, just broken to 
 harness, and, having taken the children to school, 
 he would carry Dio off to spend the day at his 
 father's, and they would have a rare treat with 
 their reading and their questions. They came to 
 call these days their examination days. 
 
 Marvel generally came over to dinner, and sat 
 awhile afterward listening or trying to listen to 
 the reading; but it was much too deep for the 
 poor lad and he soon dropped off into a series of 
 little naps, waking refreshed, and going home 
 with a comfortable conviction that he had had his 
 
272 BILLOW PRAIRlil. 
 
 share of the intellectual treat that the rest found 
 so delightful. 
 
 There were many books in the course that our 
 three students looked into at first with doubt and 
 hesitation, fearing to find them dull and utterly 
 beyond their comprehension; but, as they went 
 on, they found increasing pleasure in increasing 
 knowledge, and the very books they had feared to 
 undertake opened up to them a new world, and 
 awoke broader and higher interests. 
 
 John Lewis and Horace Boyd went to school 
 during the winter months. Some rumors of the 
 Chautauqua Circle came to their ears, and were 
 talked over at school and at home. Max Boyd, 
 who neither went to school nor had anything to 
 solace his leisure hours at home, began to feel 
 injured because he was not invited into the circle 
 of students. He absented himself from the 
 Society meetings, till Dio, having sent word to 
 him with no result, went in her capacity of Look- 
 out-Committee to look him up. That was exactly 
 what Max had waited for, and expected. 
 
 When she had passed the gantlet of the three 
 big savage looking dogs, and got safely into the 
 kitchen, she asked, — 
 
th:b look-out committed:, 273 
 
 "Why don't you come to the Society meetings 
 any more, Max? We 've all missed you, and 
 wondered why you stayed away so." • 
 
 Max tried to look glum, but his broad face 
 could not altogether hide the gratification he felt 
 at his absence being noticed. 
 
 "Don't yer think I 've always acted the part of 
 a friend to ye, Dio?" he asked in return to her 
 question. 
 
 " Indeed I do. Max ! I have n't forgotten how 
 you set up my new stove for me; nor how you 
 helped set out the little trees that Dean sent 
 home. Of course you 've been friendly." 
 
 Max's face broadened into a genial smile. He 
 could n't help it at these allusions. It was 
 always a pleasure to him to help Dio, and her 
 gratification when the little fruit-trees came home 
 had been so pleasant to see that he could not be 
 content till he had helped to set out every one. 
 But he drew his face down again immediately, 
 for he had a point to gain. 
 
 " S'pos'n I found a good thing and did n't let 
 on to nobody, nor go halves with nobody, what 'd 
 ye think of me, Dio?" 
 
 "Why, if it was something that could be 
 
274 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 shared just as well as not, I 'd think you 'd 
 better share it with your friends," said Dio. 
 
 "Well, here you air! You, and Al Lewis, and 
 Miss Fli'cia have been and got up a study class, or 
 somethin' or nother, and they say you 're havin' 
 tip-top times, and don't invite nobody to it but 
 your three selves." 
 
 "Why, Max! " said Dio, restraining an inclina- 
 tion to laugh, " I must tell you how it was. Miss 
 Felicia has been very good to us, while father was 
 sick, and other times, so when Dean heard how 
 she is laid up with her lame ankle, he was sorry 
 for her, and sent us up a set of books to read and 
 study together, because you know I can't go to 
 school." 
 
 "No more can't I! " put in Max. 
 
 "And we liked it so much," continued Dio, 
 not heeding the interruption, "that Albert 
 thought he 'd like it too, and he began to study 
 evenings to keep up with us. That 's all the 
 class there is about it. I would have told you 
 before so you could get the books and study with 
 us, if I 'd thought you would like it." 
 
 "Course I 'd like it!" interjected Max, still a 
 little gruffly. 
 
THE LOOK-OUT COMMITTEE. 275 
 
 "You 've only to get the books and study too, 
 if you wish to. It 's all free, — to everybody. 
 I '11 give you a list of the books and the prices." 
 
 "But I can't come to the meetin's, I suppose," 
 said Max, still unsatisfied. 
 
 " Why, of course we want you to ! Just as you 
 always have, " said Dio in some surprise. " That 's 
 exactly what I came to see you about. You 
 was n't there last Sunday, nor the Sunday before; 
 — three Sundays we 've missed you." 
 
 She stopped, for the frown on Max's face was 
 real now. He partly turned, as if to leave the 
 room. 
 
 "I see how 't is! " he said. "You don't want 
 me only to the Sunday meetin's, and I 'm blest if 
 I ever show my head in them agin." 
 
 " Why, Max ! " said Dio, greatly perplexed at 
 her neighbor's behavior. " I don't see what you 
 mean. " 
 
 "Reckon there 's none so blind as them that 
 won't see," growled Max. 
 
 Dio was in difficulties. She sat a moment in 
 deep thought. Max's mother sat in the corner 
 by the fire, smoking a pipe. She had seemed 
 wholly uninterested, and winked and blinked at 
 
276 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 the young people with an air of sleepy unconcern 
 which left them quite careless of her presence. 
 But she was not so dull as she pretended. She 
 perceived that Dio's perplexity was real. So 
 removing her pipe she spoke. 
 
 "P'rhaps you don't have no meetin's only 
 Sunday meetin's. P'rhaps you don't meet of a 
 week day evenin's to felisticate over your new 
 studyin' books, nor nothin'." 
 
 "No, we don't!" said Dio honestly. "Of 
 course I go over nearly every day to help Miss 
 Felicia all I can, and we study together. Albert 
 does his studying evenings. I never go over in 
 the evenings. When there is a stormy day he 
 comes to fetch me, and then of course as he can't 
 work outdoors, we all study together. That 's 
 all there is about it." 
 
 Dio was a little flushed and annoyed at having 
 to make this explanation. She felt as if they had 
 no right to search into her affairs in this way. 
 But she did want to win Max back to the meet- 
 ings, and underneath her ruffled feelings an un- 
 dercurrent of thought kept suggesting something 
 about not being able to " bear with the worm till 
 the wings should grow." W.ould the wings ever 
 grow? 
 
THE LOOK-OUT COMMITTEE. 277 
 
 There was a moment of silence, and then Dio 
 went on, " Dean will be at home pretty soon, and 
 then we might have a class, or a Circle I believe 
 they call them. He would like it, I know. But 
 of course I can't invite you to Mr. Lewis'. 
 That 's Albert's business. I don't think he, or 
 Miss Felicia, would have the least objection to 
 your coming, though. The more the merrier. 
 I '11 speak to Albert about it." 
 
 " Well, I 'm obleeged to ye. I heerd things as 
 if you was havin' meetin's, and I thought if I 
 was n't fine enough to come to 'em, I was n't fine 
 enough to come to the S'ciety meetin's. And 
 that 's the long and short of it. I '11 be there 
 next Sunday, sure and certin," said Max, a little 
 ashamed of his jealousy, which he began to see 
 was without foundation. 
 
 He followed her outdoors, and walked a little 
 way at her side. He was silent and awkward. 
 He felt as if he ought to make an apology to her, 
 and he did not know how. 
 
 He struggled within himself, as he walked. 
 His face worked strangely, when Dio looked into 
 it, wondering. What could he be thinking of? 
 
 " Ther 's a big diff 'runce, somehow ! " he burst 
 
278 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 out at last. "We 'uns ain't like you 'unsi What 
 makes it, Dio?" 
 
 "We 'uns used to be more like you 'uns," said 
 Dio musingly, and relapsing into a trick of speech 
 that Miss Felicia had broken her of using years 
 ago. 
 
 "I know it! Your father was our sort. And 
 you 're a growin' all out 'n it. And Dean tool 
 I kin see it even in Marv, and the little 'uns. 
 What makes it, Dio? Is it the book learnin'? 
 You have n't none so much! " 
 
 "Max!" said Dio, with earnestness of strong 
 conviction in her manner, "Max, it 's religion 
 makes it." 
 
 Max looked in her face, and his countenance 
 fell. 
 
 "Yes, I reckon 't is, — religion makes it! 
 Well, good-by, Dio." 
 
 He turned and left her, striding homeward, as 
 if he could not get there soon enough. Dio 
 stood still and watched him. 
 
 "He thinks he can't get that," thought she. 
 "I ought to tell him he can. I must call him 
 back." 
 
 She called " Max ! Max ! come back ! " but he 
 
THE LOOK-OUT COMMITTEE. 279 
 
 did not hear, or would not seem to hear. He 
 went into the house and shut the door. Then 
 Dio went on homeward, sober, thoughtful, full of 
 sympathy for this chrysalis struggling to be free 
 of its enshrouding case. Would it ever have 
 wings ? 
 
280 BILLOW PBAIEIE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 THE NEW HOUSE. 
 
 Mr. Budd had advised Dean to put up a house 
 of comfortable size while he was building, — a 
 house that should afford sleeping-rooms for them 
 all : at least so that no more than two need occupy 
 the same room. It would cost less, and look 
 better than making subsequent additions ; and, he 
 said, no family ought to be content with less. 
 He offered to loan him what was necessary, on 
 condition that he should work for him winters 
 till it was paid. 
 
 The prospect of such a house was so alluring to 
 Dio that she consented to Dean's absence without 
 much demur, and plans were discussed with lively 
 zeal, both by letter and every time they met. 
 Now that they had a team of their own, Dean 
 sometimes came home to spend a Sabbath ; Marvel 
 or Rolfe going after him, and taking him back 
 Monday morning. One Saturday evening in Feb- 
 ruary he made an unexpected visit. 
 
THE NEW HOUSE. 281 
 
 That evening Max Boyd drove up in front of 
 Mr. Budd's shop, and, throwing the reins across 
 the backs of his mules, he jumped out and went 
 in. He found Dean, as he had expected, just 
 finishing his day's work and making preparations 
 to leave the shop. 
 
 " Did n't know but what ye 'd like to go home 
 to spend Sunday," said Max. "I was up to town 
 with a load, and I 'm comin' with another Monday 
 mornin' early, so I kin fetch ye back as well as 
 not." 
 
 " Why, certainly I should like it. I 'm ever so 
 much obliged to you, Max, for thinking of it," 
 said. Dean. "Wait a minute or two, while I tell 
 Mrs. Budd, and change my clothes a bit, and get 
 my overcoat." 
 
 "Yes, indeed! get yer overcoat. The air is 
 right sharp out on the prairies after nightfall," 
 said Max. 
 
 Dean was not long getting ready, and the two 
 were soon traveling rapidly over the hard, smooth 
 roads behind the mules, who, their faces being 
 turned homeward, needed little urging to keep 
 them at their best speed. 
 
 They found plenty to talk about for a while. 
 
282 BILLOW PRAIBIE. 
 
 All the little happenings on Billow Prairie, the 
 Society, the crops, the weather which had been 
 unusually mild and dry, kept them in subjects of 
 conversation for half the way. After that Max 
 grew silent. He seemed to have something on his 
 mind which he did not know how to put into 
 words. After one or two ineffectual attempts to 
 introduce the matter in an easy, natural way, he 
 broke out with, — 
 
 " I reckon str'et forrud is the best road, after 
 all. I want to ask ye somethin'. Dean. Ye kin 
 tell me, or not, jest as ye 're a mind to." 
 
 " All right, " said Dean. " What is it ? " 
 
 "Your sister Dio is a mighty nice girl," said 
 Max, with an air of profound conviction. 
 
 "Of course I think so," said Dean, laughing, 
 but rather uneasily, for he guessed what might 
 follow this proposition. 
 
 A long pause followed, as if Max found the 
 straight road none too easy. Then he said, — 
 
 "I 'm thinkin' maybe Al Lewis has staked a 
 claim on her, 'fore now." 
 
 "Well, I suppose he has," said Dean. "We 
 don't say much about it, Dio is so young, and we 
 can't spare her from home for a long time yet. 
 
THE NEW HOUSE. 283 
 
 But it 's pretty well understood between them, 
 and I 'm agreed to it, when the proper time 
 comes." 
 
 " Wall, I 'spected as much ! " said Max, and 
 whipped up his mules till they went galloping 
 over the prairie at a break-neck pace, which he 
 kept up, for a mile or more, without speaking a 
 word. Then allowing them to subside into a 
 more reasonable rate of travel, he broke the 
 silence with, — 
 
 "Mabbe I had n't ought ter say another word, 
 but I must ask this much: You think she likes 
 him? You don't reckon she tuk up with him 
 'cause there w'an't no bigger feller round, — what 
 could whip two of him ; — what would go through 
 fire an' water to git her. You don't 'spose it 's 
 that a-way?" 
 
 "No, I don't," said Dean unhesitatingly. 
 " Dio is my twin sister, and I should know if it 
 was so, and he should n't have her. Dio likes 
 Albert better than anybody. She chooses him, as 
 he chooses her." 
 
 "Enough said, "said Max resolutely. "I don't 
 go hangin' round a claim when somebody else has 
 got the first holt of it, — and a good lawful holt, 
 
284 BILLOW PEAIRIK. 
 
 — not if I know myself. Good luck to Dio an' 
 Albert, I say!" 
 
 But he whipped up his mules again not less 
 savagely than before, and shut his mouth with 
 stern resolution. 
 
 "There 's other claims, — and good on«s," said 
 Dean, wishing to say something comforting. 
 
 "Oh, yes!" said Max, "a plenty! I don't 
 happen to be hankerin' after none on 'em jest 
 now, — that 's all." 
 
 Dean, seeing that all that could profit was said, 
 changed the subject. They were almost home 
 when Max recurred to it for the last time. 
 
 "This about Dio is betwixt you an' me, ye 
 know. Ye need n't speak on it to nobody." 
 
 "Of course not," said Dean. 
 
 "Not as I 'm anyways ashamed on it," con- 
 tinued Max. " A man must be onsensible not to 
 take to such as Dio. But if she knew on it she 
 might feel like she must be kind o' stiff with me, 
 
 — knowin' as it was n't no use, — an' ther ain't 
 no need. I sha' n't disturb nobody, and I like to 
 be good friends with her. Dio don't dispise me, 
 if I ain't no scholard." 
 
 "Indeed she does n't I And T, — Max, I shall 
 
THE NEW HOUSE. 285 
 
 think the better of you for what you 've said 
 to-night, and the way you meet it." 
 
 They grasped hands warmly in the darkness, 
 and the next minute drew up before the door of 
 Dean's home. The welcome Dean received was 
 all the more joyful because he had come un- 
 expectedly, and as soon as Dio learned who 
 brought him, she ran to the door to insist that 
 Max should come in and eat supper with Dean. 
 But he was off already, far beyond her call. 
 
 "I invited him to come in," said Dean, when 
 she had given up her hospitable purpose, and 
 turned to shut the door. "He would not stay. 
 The mules are uneasy, and want to get home." 
 
 Dio was easily consoled. She was very glad to 
 see Dean. There was always some new point in 
 their house building plans to be discussed, and 
 indeed it was not easy to keep from thinking and 
 speaking of them on Sunday. But Saturday 
 evening and Monday morning they could hardly 
 talk fast enough. 
 
 Marvel and Rolfe were getting home the mate- 
 rials for building whenever the roads were good 
 and other duties allowed. Albert Lewis, who 
 was somewhat skillful at carpentry, having built 
 
286 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 his father's house with some assistance, offered his 
 services to Dean, to be repaid in kind on demand. 
 This offer had been accepted thankfully, and he 
 and Marvel had the cellar and foundation ready 
 when Dean got home in March. 
 
 A site had been chosen for the new house a few 
 rods south of the log cabin, where the ground was 
 a little higher. The old cabin was to be left to 
 the occupancy of the pigs and poultry. It would 
 not be an unsightly thing, for the ivy Mrs. Holt 
 had given Dio years before had grown and 
 stretched itself and clambered over it, trained 
 and encouraged by her zealous labor, till it 
 covered all that side that would be visible from 
 the new dwelling. A trumpet creeper was 
 spreading over another side, and every summer it 
 would throw out its bright red blossoms in gay 
 profusion. The whole structure would shortly be 
 hidden in a wealth of green, and embellished with 
 flowers. 
 
 That was a joyful day when Dean came home, 
 and the real work of building began. Dio was 
 so eager and full of interest that her studies 
 would have suffered seriously, only that the neces- 
 sity of ministering to Miss Felicia still remained, 
 
THE NEW HOUSE. 287 
 
 and when she was once there, the reading went 
 on as usual. 
 
 Miss Felicia allowed no moment to go to waste. 
 She could read aloud while Dio worked, and she 
 drilled her and herself at the same time with 
 questions to prove her perfect understanding of 
 the matter, and to fix it in her mind. Dio could 
 have had no better teacher and companion. 
 
 As for Miss Felicia, it was not her way to be 
 very demonstrative, but she was really very 
 strongly attached to Dio. Without her, this 
 would have been a dreary winter. 
 
 Sometimes Dio had felt that Miss Felicia's 
 sober, practical, sensible friendship was lacking 
 in warmth, and she was greatly pleased when one 
 day she took her by the shoulders, kissed her on 
 either cheek, and said, "I never thought you 
 would be such a comfort to me, Dio, when you 
 came over and stood by our wagon, that day we 
 came to Billow Prairie. You remember how I 
 snapped out at you for looking into our pork 
 barrel. You 've improved a sight since then, 
 and I don't know as I should think any more of 
 you if you were my sister, or my daughter. You 
 seem a little like both." 
 
288 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 A few days of preparation, and then the house 
 went up as if by magic; all the labor being done 
 by willing, eager hands, with the knowledge that 
 every advance would be rejoiced over by the 
 whole family at evening. Marvel was especially 
 voluble in expressing his pleasure. 
 
 " What would ma say to that ? " and, " Would n't 
 ma be pleased?" fell from his lips many times a 
 day. Once he said, "I keep a thinkin' of ma's 
 verse all the time, He has ' freely give us all 
 things,' sure enough. Never see how we do get 
 ahead ! A good house ! — a two-story house ! 
 Goin' to paint it, too! I can paint." And so he 
 would run on in a happy, thankful strain. 
 
 At length all was done that could be done at 
 present, for the spring work began to call the 
 men-folk to the fields. So the household effects 
 were moved into the new house and the cabin was 
 deserted. True, the house was not nearly finished. 
 The work would go on for many a day, through 
 all possible leisure time that stormy days or 
 fortunate events could afford. But nobody cared 
 much that the finishing must be done over their 
 heads. Every gain would be the more marked 
 and appreciated. For the present they rejoiced 
 in plenty of room and plenty of light. 
 
THE NEW HOUSE. 289 
 
 It was on a Saturday morning that the removal 
 took place. By evening all things were in order. 
 The simple cottage bedsteads that had been wait- 
 ing for their place were set up. The scarcity of 
 furniture became quite apparent under the new 
 conditions ; but this also was but to increase and 
 lengthen out their pleasure, for every new article 
 they would be able to afford would be the more 
 thoroughly appreciated. At least this was the 
 theory Dean and Dio held and merrily taught, as 
 they moved their few poor articles of furniture 
 into the new dwelling. 
 
 With hearts full of thanksgiving they knelt for 
 the first time around the family altar in the new 
 home. They thought of the first days in the log 
 house. They thought of their mother, and 
 wished she could witness and share their pleasure. 
 They thought of the one leaf that was all they 
 then had of the Book that had since been a lamp 
 to their feet and a light to their path. The 
 Sabbath that followed was a day of rest and 
 grateful recollections of the manner in which 
 their heavenly Father had led and cared for 
 them, and of bright hope and glad trust for the 
 future. 
 
290 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 A NEW MAN. 
 
 We must now go back a little in our narrative. 
 After Dio's visit to Max she had felt that she 
 must speak to him at the first opportunity, and 
 make him understand, if she could, that religion 
 was for him. But Max had seemed determined 
 to give her no opportunity. He avoided her pres- 
 ence except when surrounded by other young 
 people. 
 
 After some thought, and a good deal of prayer 
 for direction, she determined to write him a note. 
 It required some effort to put upon paper what 
 she thought she could have said so simply and 
 easily, if she could but have the chance. She 
 finally wrote this : — 
 
 Fkiend Max, — I have been watching a chance to tell you 
 that you are very much mistaken if yuu think religion is not for 
 you. It is for you as much as for me, or anybody. Don't 
 think it nothing but a fetter and a hindrance. My father 
 used to say so, and I am so sorry he made such a mistake. 
 
A NEW MAN. 291 
 
 Dean does n't find it so, nor do I, nor does anybody that tries 
 it. It is a help and a joy every day. Do try it, Max. 
 Your friend, 
 
 DiO WiNDOM. 
 
 Max kept this note in his pocket for days, and 
 read and re-read it. Twice he sat down with 
 pen, ink, and paper before him with the thought 
 of answering it. But he was not a ready writer, 
 and each effort ended in failure and the destruc- 
 tion of much note-paper. The Sabbath after 
 Dean's return he came to Dio and said in a tone 
 intended for her ear alone, — 
 
 "I 'ma goin' to try fur it, Dio." 
 
 And she had answered, "I 'm very glad, Max." 
 
 From that time Max whittled the desks no 
 more in sermon time or Society meeting; nor did 
 he whisper or look about as had been his wont. 
 He listened as if he meant to know and under- 
 stand all about this thing that he had pledged 
 himself to try for, and the way to get it. He 
 grew grave, even gloomy, and when the services 
 were over he often stalked off alone, with bent 
 head and despondent face. 
 
 "Growin' old. Max is!" his younger brother 
 would say, when his rough jokes provoked no 
 
292 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 laughter and elicited nothing but a request to 
 leave him alone. "Gettin' religious, ain't ye?" 
 he said one day. 
 
 "Yes. That 's what I 'm in fur! " said Max 
 boldly. 
 
 Horace laughed uproariously, uncertain, the 
 while, whether his brother was serious or joking. 
 But it was Max's first open confession. 
 
 "Reckon I sha' n't invest at present, if it 
 makes folks so mopy," Horace said. 
 
 To this Max made no reply. 
 
 Dio saw that there was much amiss with Max, 
 but she did not know what to say to him. She 
 could not understand why he should be so des- 
 pondent. One day he came to her and said, — 
 
 " It 's no go, Dio. The fact is, the more I try 
 the more I kin see I ain't fit. The Lord himself 
 can't make no Christian out 'n such as me." 
 
 "Yes, he can," said Dio. "Have you asked 
 him?" 
 
 "Asked him? Asked him what?" said Max 
 bewildered. 
 
 "To make a Christian of you." 
 
 "Well, no. I did n't think of it that a-way. 
 T 've been a try in' to do, and be better, — in 
 fact, to be religious, but it 's no go." 
 
A NEW MAN. 293 
 
 " Max, ask him to make you over new — to 
 make you a Christian," said Dio. 
 
 "You think he kin?" said Max doubtfully. 
 
 " That 's just what He has to do for everybody. 
 Nobody can make themselves Christians," said 
 Dio. 
 
 The gloom did not lighten on Max's face. He 
 looked at Dio a moment, and then said, " How do 
 ye know all that? " 
 
 "It 's in the Bible. I can't tell you all the 
 verses, but they 're there, and to-night I '11 look 
 them up, and mark them for you, and you can 
 read them for yourself." 
 
 "Well, do it," said Max. "You helped me 
 into this fix, and I reckon ye 're boun' fur to git 
 me out, if ye kin. I doubt if ye kin, though. Ye 
 see, the mater'als is mighty poor. I s'pose ye 
 just think me a green, wuthless sort of a feller, 
 but I 'm more 'n that. I 'm wickeder 'n I ever 
 had an idee on, till lately." 
 
 "He 'came not to call the righteous, but 
 sinners to repentance,' " quoted Dio softly. 
 
 Max gave her another gloomy look, and walked 
 away. 
 
 Dio felt greatly troubled. She hastened home 
 
294 BILLOW FRAIHIE. 
 
 that she might lay her burden upon Him who 
 alone was able to help. She felt herself quite 
 unequal to instructing Max. She hurried 
 through her work that she might search her Bible 
 for the texts she knew were there. She had 
 bought a Bible for herself while at Mrs. Lapham's, 
 and in this she marked the passages she found. 
 These were some of them : — 
 
 " Create in me a clean hearty God; and renew 
 a right spirit within me. ^'' 
 
 " Wash me, and I shall he whiter than snow.^^ 
 
 "j4 new heart also will I give you^ and a new 
 spirit will I put within you : and I ivill take away 
 the stony heart out of your fleshy and I will give 
 you an heart of Jiesh^ 
 
 '•''Therefore if any 7nan be in Christ, he is a new 
 creature : old things are passed away ; behold, all 
 things are become new.''"' 
 
 '•'•Him that eometh to me I will in no wise cast 
 outr 
 
 " Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of 
 our faith; who for the joy that was set before him 
 endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set 
 down at the right hand of the throne of Grod.^^ 
 
 The next day, seeing Max passing, she went 
 
A NEW MAN. 295 
 
 out and put the Bible into his hand, explaining 
 how she had marked the passages. 
 
 "May I keep it awhile?" said Max. "I *m a 
 goin' to buy me a new Bible when I go up to 
 town. Hain't got none wuth a mentionin' in the 
 house ; fore end and back end tore off, and yaller 
 with smoke all the way through. I 've meant to 
 git one ever sence I begun to — to try, but it 's 
 a busy time, and I hain't been up." 
 
 "Yes; keep it till you get one," said Dio. 
 " I 've marked a good many verses, because I kept 
 finding good ones." 
 
 She did not see Max again till the next 
 Sabbath, but then she hardly needed to hear the 
 words he was eager to pour into her ear. He 
 stood straighter, and there was a new light in his 
 eye that told the story. The despondency was all 
 gone. Dio thought she had never seen him look 
 so manly. 
 
 " I done it ! I jest told Him I was all beat 
 and ready to give up, and asked Him to take the 
 job and make me all over new, and he 's done it ! 
 I 'm sure he 's done it, 'cause o' his own words in 
 the Book," said the happy fellow the moment he 
 reached her side. 
 
296 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 And Dio could only say, "O Max! I am so 
 glad! — so glad!" She felt like crying for joy. 
 Had it really been given to her to help one out of 
 darkness into light! "I must do more! I must 
 help others! It is so blessed to do such work! " 
 she thought. There was sunshine in her heart 
 and on her face all that day. 
 
 When the time came for the Society meeting, 
 Max was all ready and eager to tell of the change 
 that had taken place in him. He said in direct, 
 manly fashion, ^ 
 
 "I 'm a Christian. I 'm willin' to sign that 
 pledge now, any time ye 're willin' to give me 
 one. I lost t'other one, 'cause I did n't keer. Now 
 I keer. I 'm goin' to join the church, if they '11 
 take me. I don't expect to be no shinin' light, 
 nor piller o' salt in it (Poor Max was a little 
 mixed in his metaphors ; he was thinking of 
 the "salt of the earth"), yet awhile, but I kin be 
 a Christian, and I 'm goin' to act like one, every 
 time, so fur as I kin, lookin' to Jesus, the Author 
 and the Finisher." 
 
 He sat down, and there was silence. Every 
 face expressed deep interest and feeling. Even 
 Marion's was no exception. Horace tried hard 
 
A NE)V MAN. 297 
 
 to look unmoved and careless. His lips put on 
 the shape of whistling, but it was only to conceal 
 and control their tremulousness. 
 
 Dean started the hymn, "I was a wandering 
 sheep," and the emotion of all found expression 
 in the singing. 
 
 After the hymn, little Mrs. Bradford spoke, 
 without rising, and with her face half hidden by 
 her hand, so timid was she. "I want to be a 
 Christian. I did n't think much about it till my 
 baby came. I think mothers ought to be Chris- 
 tians. Pray for me." 
 
 The trembling voice was silent, and Albert 
 Lewis knelt and prayed for these two who wer® 
 willing to confess Christ, and take his yoke upon 
 them. 
 
 When he had done, Marvel prayed. Marvel's 
 prayers were somewhat stereotyped. He had 
 fallen into a form that seemed to him expressive 
 of his wants and feelings, and the effort to ex- 
 press himself in other words was not often made. 
 But this night he felt that something else must 
 be said. So when he had finished he added with 
 solemn earnestness, " I 'm glad there 's two more 
 that 's goin' to be Christians," and sat down. 
 
298 BILLOW PRAIBIE. 
 
 Then Albert Lewis spoke of the new brother's 
 resolve to join the church, and of a plan that was 
 under discussion for organizing a church on 
 Billow Prairie. If one were formed it would be 
 a church for all. No one would be shut out who 
 founded their faith on God's word, and tried to 
 obey Him. He hoped all the members of the 
 Society would be ready to help on this movement, 
 because the Church is Christ's own institution, 
 and nothing can excuse neglect of that. 
 
 When the meeting broke up, Dean was first to 
 grasp Max's hand, and give him welcome; Albert, 
 and John, and Silence Parker were not far behind, 
 and tears rose to the honest fellow's eyes as he 
 realized that, whatever ridicule and distrust he 
 might encounter elsewhere, here he was received 
 as a brother beloved. 
 
 "I shall grow!" he said. "Don't git out o' 
 patience with me. I don't know much yit, but 
 I '11 learn, fur I feel the makin's of a new man in 
 me. Help me what ye kin, and Jesus is a goin' 
 to be my Finisher. I reckon he won't slight his 
 job, and yer won't always have to be ashamed oi 
 
IMPROVEMENT. 299 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 IMPROVEMENT. 
 
 Max called one evening, soon after the events 
 narrated in the last chapter, to see Miss Felicia. 
 
 "I reckon ye Ve heard as how I 'm a Chris- 
 tian," said he. 
 
 "Yes, and I 'm rejoiced to know it," said 
 Miss Felicia. "It 's the best thing that ever 
 happened to you. Not that it happened, either. 
 Things don't happen ; — least of all such things as 
 that, though we call it so. But it '11 make your 
 life worth living, and make a man of you. 
 There 's nothing like religion to bring out the 
 best there is in a man, according to my way of 
 thinking." 
 
 "I reckon ye 're right," said Max. "I 've 
 seen that myself." 
 
 " A man who owns his duty to his Maker, and 
 aims to do it," continued Miss Felicia, "seems to 
 me much more manly than a shirk, who won't 
 own it because he don't wish to do it." 
 
300 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "Well," said Max, " I want to do my duty to 
 Him and to everybody. And I 'm thinkin' I 
 could do it in better shape if I had a little more 
 learnin'. I went to school, same 's other boys, 
 and I might 'a learned more, but rethmetic was 
 the study most to my likin', and I jest pushed her 
 through, — could crack any nut in the hull book, 
 — but grammar and spellin' I did n't take to, 
 and I did n't push much on them. I missed it, 
 there. That 's why I 've come to ye. Ye 're a 
 school-ma'am, and ye can teach me grammar and 
 spellin', and maybe more. I ain't too old to learn, 
 yit, and I ain't a goin' through life bearin' His 
 name and goin' it halt and unequil for want of a 
 few hard knocks at study. I '11 pay what ye ask 
 if ye '11 teach me an hour every evenin'." 
 
 "I respect your sense and grit," said Miss 
 Felicia. "It won't come so easy to you as it 
 would earlier, but if you 're determined to learn, 
 you can. I '11 teach you the best I know how." 
 
 "I know I 've some 'parts o' speech,' I bleeve 
 they call 'em, that don't belong in any grammar 
 book. If ye '11 jest give me a hint about sech, 
 I '11 set about loppin' of 'em off, one by one. 
 When I git fairly rid of one ye kin tell me of 
 
IMP MOVEMENT. 301 
 
 another, but I reckon one 's about all I kin tackle 
 to a time." 
 
 Miss Felicia pondered. The field was wide. 
 Where should she begin ? At last she said, — 
 
 "I notice you generally say 'We uns,' where 
 most folks say only we. Perhaps you 'd better 
 begin on that." 
 
 "I 've lopped her off a'ready," said Max, 
 smiling. 
 
 " Have you ? That 's a good beginning ! Then 
 I must think again," said Miss Felicia. 
 
 A spirit so resolute was sure to win. Max 
 came every evening, and his progress was rapid. 
 Working all day he could do no more than he 
 had set himself to do, through the warm weather, 
 and his good sense was evident in attempting no 
 more. But as the fall advanced, and the even- 
 ings grew longer, and the labors of the day less 
 exhausting, he began to read, under Miss Felicia's 
 direction, the same books she and Dio had lately 
 finished, and as he read his mind leaped to the 
 work with fresher vigor, and the charm of the 
 pursuit became greater than that of prairie fowl 
 or pickerel had ever been. 
 
 Dio saw the improvement and rejoiced in it. 
 
802 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 No one could help seeing that Max was as good as 
 his word. He was growing in grace and knowl- 
 edge. He developed a power of speaking which 
 was very helpful in the prayer meetings. His 
 words were always simple, directly to the point, 
 and marked by excellent sense. 
 
 The plan of forming a church, which had been 
 under consideration for a year or more, now took 
 form, and in October Mr. Capen came and 
 organized the church of Billow Prairie with 
 twelve members. Dean's duty to Mr. Budd had 
 called him away early in September, but he came 
 home to be present on this occasion, and to enjoy 
 Mr. Capen's visit. 
 
 It was a great pleasure to the Windom family 
 to receive their old friend into their new house, 
 now properly divided into rooms, some of which 
 were finished. And the gratification to him of 
 seeing their prosperity, and their growth, bodily, 
 mental and spiritual, was still greater. They 
 told him freely all their hopes and interests, 
 and he gave them much counsel and encourage- 
 ment. 
 
 They told him about Max Boyd, and Mr. 
 Capen became so much interested that he made 
 
IMPROVEMENT, 303 
 
 time to visit him. He had a long and deeply 
 interesting talk with him, and was delighted to 
 find one so strong and resolute wholly devoted to 
 God and his work in the world, and apparently 
 only waiting some guiding hand to point out the 
 best way of serving Him. Mr. Capen told of the 
 wide West, and of the great need of men who are 
 not afraid of hardship or privation to go into new 
 places and preach the Gospel and build up 
 churches. 
 
 Max's clear, resolute gray eyes kindled as he 
 said, — 
 
 "I 'm your man! I mean I 'm His man! 
 Only show me how I can get myself ready. I 'm 
 not fit yet." 
 
 Mr. Capen told him how, by a course of study, 
 he might in a few years prepare himself for the 
 work of a home missionary, and Max seized 
 upon the idea at once, for it was work exactly to 
 his mind. 
 
 "I jest long to be about it! "said he, as they 
 shook hands at parting ; " and you may reckon I 
 won't let any grass grow under my feet. With 
 the help of the Author and the Finisher I '11 be 
 ready for work before many years. You sha' n't 
 
304 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 find the time you 've spent on me this mornin' 
 throw'd away, sir." 
 
 The succeeding winter was a season of steady 
 improvement, not only to Max, who studied 
 under Miss Felicia's guidance, but to Miss 
 Felicia herself, and to Dio and Albert. The 
 weekly meetings were of lively interest. Mr. 
 Bradford soon followed the lead of his wife, and 
 concluding that fathers, no less than mothers, 
 ought to be Christians, he had given himself to 
 God, and now was ready to help in every good 
 work. 
 
 Rolfe, too, stimulated by Mr. Gapen's visit, 
 came out boldly, and declared himself on the 
 Lord's side, and was as firm and manly as a boy 
 of sixteen should be. 
 
A PRODIGAL. 305 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 A PRODIGAL. 
 
 Probably John Faxon himself did not realize 
 what kind of a spirit animated him, this winter, 
 to begin to stir up in Marvel's mind feelings of 
 jealousy and distrust toward his younger brother. 
 Artful questions, slight insinuations, continually 
 repeated, were slow in taking effect, but in time 
 they took root and grew in Marvel's mind. 
 Their first visible effect was increasing indiffer- 
 ence to the Society and its meetings, and a sullen- 
 ness of manner, to which he had been inclined in 
 his boyhood, but had apparently overcome. 
 
 This became plain whenever Dean was at home. 
 All through the spring and early summer the 
 younger brother was perplexed and distressed by 
 its manifestation, but sought vainly to find out 
 the cause. Meanwhile, John Faxon, having, as 
 he imagined, caught scent of an injustice, and 
 set himself to right it, kept up his secret 
 methods of poisoning the poor simple fellow's 
 mind. 
 
806 BILLOW PRAIRIE, 
 
 "You 're jest workin' all the time for Dean's 
 int'rist," he would say. "He 's got everything 
 into his hands. He 's boss, but he don't pay you 
 a cent. You jest git your board an clo'es for all 
 you do. I would n't stan' it, if I was you." 
 
 "I reckon Dean '11 do what 's right," had been 
 Marvel's reply, when these insinuations began. 
 But later he had no word to say in Dean's de- 
 fense, and at length learned to reply in stout 
 assertions that he was n't going to "stan' it" 
 much longer. 
 
 Still there was no outbreak for a long time. 
 In fact, Marvel's confidence in Dean had become 
 so fixed, and was so well grounded, that John 
 Faxon, though he might shake it, and appear to 
 loosen it, was never able to uproot it. Away 
 from the influence of his instigator. Marvel 
 settled back into his old habit of trusting to his 
 brother, and following his lead, though showing 
 a degree of sullenness at times that was new and 
 exceedingly unpleasant, being extended to every 
 member of the little home circle impartially. 
 
 "Do try to be decent, Marv! You eat like a 
 savage ! " exclaimed Dio one morning at break- 
 fast. 
 
A PRODIGAL, SOT 
 
 "Eat jest as I alius did!" retorted Marvel, 
 irritated as much by the tone and manner as by 
 the reproof. 
 
 It was a sultry August day. Dio's rest had 
 been disturbed by a grumbling tooth, and the 
 pain, aggravated by bending over the hot stove 
 while getting breakfast, had become severe. 
 She thought she could n't help being cross, so she 
 answered, — 
 
 " You always did eat like a savage. I should 
 think you might improve." 
 
 " Reckon I better not eat at all, if I can't eat 
 to suit folks. Reckon this fam'ly is gettin' above 
 me! I better find another place to live," and 
 Marvel pushed his chair back from the table, and 
 shuffled outdoors, the very picture of angry sul- 
 lenness. 
 
 Dio was ashamed of her crossness, but she had 
 not the grace to say so, or to call back and 
 soothe her offended brother, though she was cer- 
 tain he was going off to his work with an appetite 
 but half satisfied, and a just anger against her in 
 his heart. 
 
 She endured a conscience ache in addition to 
 her toothache part of the forenoon. Then she 
 
308 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 prepared a nice lunch of bread, cold chicken, 
 doughnuts and curds, such as Marvel liked, and 
 a pitcher of cool water in which was a prepara- 
 tion of oatmeal, sugar and nutmeg, a refreshing 
 drink in hot weather, and sent Vinnie with this 
 peace-offering to the upper end of the farm where 
 she supposed he was working. 
 
 Vinnie disappeared among the tall corn that 
 waved its tassels high above her head, and was 
 gone half an hour or more, when she returned 
 with glowing face and the report that Marvel 
 was not there. It was too much to ask that she 
 go, in her heated condition, as far in the opposite 
 direction, to the place where Dean and Rolfe 
 were making hay, and where Dio thought Marvel 
 would probably be found. She looked up at the 
 clock, and thought it would scarcely be two hours 
 before they would all come to dinner. So she 
 allowed Vinnie to regale herself on the lunch, 
 while she lowered the pitcher into the well that 
 it might be cool on her brother's return. 
 
 But when at twelve o'clock Dean and Rolfe 
 came to dinner Marvel was not with them, and 
 they had seen nothing of him. With a quick 
 recollection of his words at breakfast Dio ex- 
 claimed excitedly, — 
 
A PRODIGAL. 309 
 
 " He 's gone, then ! Oh, dear, where would he 
 
 go!" 
 
 "Gone! where? What 's the matter, Dio?" 
 said Dean. " What if he is gone ? There 's half 
 a dozen places where he might go. He '11 be 
 back soon, or if he is n't he 's sure to get his 
 dinner somewhere." 
 
 "Oh, but you don't know!" said Dio, the 
 tears that had been ready to flow many times that 
 forenoon now breaking bounds and flooding her 
 cheeks. "You got through breakfast and went 
 out so quick, that you did n't hear the cross 
 things I said to him. And then he said he 'd go 
 awa}", for we were getting too fine for him, or 
 something like that. And he is gone, and I — 
 oh dear! I 've got just the pay I deserve! " and 
 poor Dio had much ado to keep her tears from 
 dropping among the potatoes she was taking up 
 from the kettle. 
 
 " Let me do that, " said Dean, taking the dish 
 and the fork from her with gentle force. " You 
 ought not to be getting dinner, anyway. You 're 
 just about sick. Where 's Vinnie that she can't 
 help?" 
 
 "She 's gone to the well for drink. She has 
 
310 * BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 helped," sobbed Dio. "I sent her with a nice 
 lunch to Marv at the north end, two hours ago, 
 and he was n't there. I thought perhaps he had 
 gone to help you, but now I know he 's gone 
 quite away, and does n't mean to come back," 
 and with a fresh burst of tears Dio threw herself 
 into a chair, and hid herself and her grief in the 
 folds of her big apron. 
 
 "Twinnie, don't! " said Dean as he continued 
 at the work of taking up the dinner. "Marv 
 would n't go off to stay! I 'm sure he would n't. 
 He 's at the Lewis' or at John Faxon's perhaps. 
 He '11 be back by evening, if not sooner." 
 
 "I don't know," said Rolfe in his slow, quiet 
 way. " Marvel has been getting all out of sorts 
 lately. Maybe he would go away." 
 
 " Out of sorts ? How ? Do you know what is 
 the matter? What has he said?" asked Dean, 
 piling one question upon another in his eager- 
 ness. " I 've noticed that he has n't been like 
 himself, but I could n't find out what was the 
 matter." 
 
 " He won't talk to anybody much, but he has 
 grumbled some, — partly to himself, — but I 
 heard," said Rolfe. 
 
A PRODIGAL. 311 
 
 "What is it about? Out with it! " said Dean 
 impatiently. 
 
 "Why, I reckon John Faxon put it into his 
 head, but he says you Ve got possession of the 
 farm, and you boss everything, and he 's your 
 man — without any pay." 
 
 "What nonsense!" cried Dean. "Are n't we 
 all working hard for the family? Do I care for 
 anything only to see you all comfortable ? And 
 does n't he know that I can't hold property till 
 I 'm twenty-one? Mr. Budd is holding the 
 farm for us all. It 's no more mine than it is 
 his, or yours, and it 's just clear mischief-making 
 in John Faxon if he 's set Marv on to believe 
 that I 'm planning anything but the good of the 
 whole family." 
 
 "Do you suppose you can find him?" asked 
 Dio, revealing part of her tear-stained face. 
 
 "Find him? Yes, indeed! Where would he 
 go but to John Faxon? Marv would n't go 
 among strangers. Let 's have dinner, and then 
 I '11 take Nell, and I '11 soon find him and make 
 all right." 
 
 But when Dean reached John Faxon's house he 
 found that he had miscalculated. Marvel had 
 
312 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 not been there. He scarcely knew in what direc- 
 tion to look next. He had been so certain of 
 finding him there that he had not turned aside 
 to inquire of nearer neighbors. 
 
 He spoke not a word to John of what Rolfe had 
 told him. He thought it best to find Marvel first, 
 and be sure how much real sense of offense he 
 had. He made a circuit and stopped at all his 
 neighbors' to inquire if they had seen Marvel. 
 No one had seen him. So he returned to Dio to 
 consult with her. 
 
 Dio was a good deal disappointed, for she had 
 been quite hopeful that Marvel would be found 
 at Mr. Faxon's, and that Dean would bring him 
 home. She was confirmed now in the belief that 
 he had left home with deliberate purpose. 
 
 "I don't know where to look next," said Dean. 
 "I really think he '11 come home to-night. He 
 has n't spent a night away from home but once 
 since we moved down here, and you remember 
 that time. He started for Ball City with Max 
 Boyd, and they were to be gone a week, but 
 Marv was so homesick that he left Max to go on 
 alone, while he walked home again, and got back 
 before nightfall the second day. He 's never 
 
A PRODIGAL. 313 
 
 wanted to go away since. I don't believe it is 
 best to make a fuss, and go scouring the country 
 round. He '11 come back himself, — see if he 
 does n't." 
 
 "I don't know," said Dio sorrowfully. 
 
 "Well, I do! At least, I feel quite sure. 
 Don't you remember when we first moved into 
 this house he did n't sleep, and worried the rest 
 of us half the night because he was n't in his old 
 corner? The best thing we can do is to wait. 
 No harm will come to him." 
 
 " Seems as if I could n't wait," said Dio, wiping 
 away a tear. " I keep thinking what ma would 
 say to me. Ma set as much by Marv as if he 
 was n't a plague and a torment every day of her 
 life. And now that he 's so good, to think that 
 I could n't have patience with his ways, but must 
 drive him away from home." 
 
 "Twinnie, dear, don't worry like that. Ma 
 always knew Marv was a trial, and I think she 'd 
 be pleased that we have got on so well with him. 
 I hope she knows. At any rate, he is one of the 
 Lord's own children, so he 's sure of the best 
 of care." 
 
 "That is a comfort," said Dio. "I know Marv 
 
314 BILLOW PRAUUE. 
 
 would never have taken up any such jealous 
 thoughts of you out of his own head. It 's that 
 mean John Faxon's work." 
 
 "Well, let 's just wait a while. Rolfe may not 
 be altogether right in his reckoning. His imagi- 
 nation may have magnified John's meddling." 
 
 It was not so, however. On the contrary, Rolfe 
 did not know, or suspect, half the truth. When 
 Marvel left home, all the evil thoughts that had 
 been suggested to him during the past months, 
 stirred up by the angry taunt of his sister, were 
 seething in violent agitation in his heart. He 
 determined to go, — he cared little where, but 
 somewhere to hide from his family so effectually 
 that they should search for him in vain. So, 
 instead of taking the road, he started across the 
 prairie westward, with a vague idea of going to 
 that ever receding country, "Out West." 
 
 He avoided all dwellings of men till he was 
 fairly out of reach of any who knew him. He 
 was, for several hours, insensible to hunger or 
 thirst. He nursed his anger, and fanned the 
 excited state of feeling under which he had set 
 out, till at last his strength and fortitude gave 
 way together. Tired, heated, dusty, faint for 
 
A PRODIGAL. 315 
 
 lack of food, for his breakfast had been but a 
 light one, he sank in a heap in the shade of an 
 old buttonwood-tree that stood near a creek which 
 he was approaching. Angry still, and wholly 
 miserable, he began to cry. 
 
 His tears brought some relief. The tension of 
 feeling was relaxed, and after sobbing awhile he 
 fell asleep. Noon came and passed into after- 
 noon, and still he slept. The shade of the tree 
 moved away from him, and he lay in the hot 
 August sunshine, still sleeping heavily. It was 
 three o'clock when he awoke, conscious only of a 
 ravenous hunger. He sat up and looked around 
 him. Slowly his situation dawned upon hi*s mind. 
 The violence of his anger had passed away. As 
 he thought it all over, there arose a sullen sense 
 of injury, but hunger and thirst overpowered 
 every other feeling. 
 
 "Wish 't I could buy some bread 'thout nobody 
 seein' me," he muttered, fingering a few coins that 
 chanced to be in his pocket, "or some eggs!" 
 The distant cackle of a hen perhaps suggested the 
 latter thought. "Wish 't I could buy o' that 
 hen," — with a short laugh at the idea. "Don't 
 want to see nobody, nor speak to nobody. 
 
316 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 Jest want somethin' to eat, — and then to get 
 on." 
 
 He rose, crossed the creek on a fallen log, and 
 pushed on toward the sounds he had heard. As 
 he expected, he soon came in sight of a house 
 with outbuildings around it. The stable was 
 nearer than the house, and a good distance lay 
 between them. No one was in sight about either. 
 Marvel went toward the stable, and keeping it 
 between himself and the house, stole slyly in at 
 the door, and looked about eagerly in boxes and 
 barrels where hens were likely to make their 
 nests. He soon found where Biddy had deposited 
 her egg. There were two in the nest. These 
 Marvel took, and searched in vain for more. But 
 to steal them Avas not his plan. He spread a piece 
 of paper in the nest from which he had taken the 
 eggs, and on this he laid three cents, which he 
 judged a fair price for what he had taken. 
 
 Then he went to a well near the house, and 
 drew up a bucket of Avater, and took a long, 
 delicious draught. Then, having seen, or been 
 seen, by no one, he went his way. 
 
 Refreshed by the food thus obtained he trav- 
 eled on, taking the roads now that he was in 
 
A PRODIGAL. 317 
 
 a region where he was a stranger. Nightfall 
 found him, weary and footsore, wondering, with 
 a strange homesick yearning, where he was to 
 sleep. The weather was warm enough, and new, 
 clean straw-stacks were plentiful; but as twilight 
 deepened into darkness, he more and more craved 
 human companionship, and to sleep elsewhere 
 than under a roof seemed impossible. 
 
 Nevertheless, he shrank from going into a house 
 to ask for lodging. The companionship of cows 
 and horses would be better than none. He 
 slipped quietly into the open door of a stable 
 where a cow was lying at rest, vigorously chewing 
 the cud, and her calf, tied by a bit of rope, stood 
 near her. It was quiet till Marvel came in 
 sight, but on seeing him it began to low for its 
 supper. 
 
 Marvel looked about for a place to lie down 
 where he would not be seen if any one should 
 come into the stable. There was not much in the 
 stable, — a few barrels and boxes, but not an Qgg 
 in any, as he quickly found out. He was hungry 
 again, and was more disappointed at finding 
 nothing to satisfy him than at finding nothing 
 but the bare ground to lie down upon. 
 
318 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 He stretched himself in the corner nearest the 
 cow, — so near that he could plainly hear her 
 breathing, and tried to be content and go to 
 sleep. 
 
 But sleep did not come at his bidding. The 
 long nap in the daytime, the strangeness, the 
 hunger, and in very truth the homesickness that 
 Dean had prophesied, did not help to bring 
 slumber. His imagination ran on what they 
 would be thinking and saying at home, now that 
 night had come and he had not returned. He 
 did not suppose they would be much surprised, or 
 at all alarmed that he did not come home during 
 the day. But that he should stay away all night 
 would, he thought, give them a considerable and 
 well-deserved fright. They would begin to in- 
 quire and look for him in the morning. 
 
 So strong were the home-longings that he 
 would now gladly have afforded them a clew by 
 which they might find him, and beg and entreat 
 him to come home again, — and then he would go. 
 He thought of his neat chamber and comfort- 
 able bed at home. He thought of the corner 
 where he knelt to repeat his nightly prayer. He 
 had not prayed once all day. 
 
A PRODIGAL. 319 
 
 "Ought to say my prayers! " he muttered, and 
 crept up upon his knees, and began to repeat the 
 form of prayer he was accustomed to use. But he 
 stumbled over the words, and he felt no satisfac- 
 tion in the act. He grew more uneasy. 
 
 "Don't know what God thinks o' me runnin' 
 away from my folks so. 'Fraid I 've been too 
 riled up 'bout nothin'. Dean allers was good. 
 I 'spect maybe he means to do what 's right 1)y 
 all of us. But Dio was cross to me. And I 
 guess I 've got the right to go away, and not 
 work for Dean 'thout pay." 
 
 Thus conscience struggled with anger and re- 
 sentment. He laid himself down again. Then 
 steps were heard approaching the stable, — soft, 
 light steps. They entered the door, and a fresh, 
 cheerful girl's voice spoke. The moon gave 
 light enough so that Marvel could see the form. 
 He could not distinctly see the face of the girl. 
 She carried a pail in her hand. 
 
 "Poor bossy! " said she. "Did you think you 
 were to be left to starve? I almost forgot you." 
 
 She set the pail into a small square box, fixed 
 against the wall to receive it, patted the little 
 creature on the head, watched its eager drink- 
 
B20 BILLOW PBAinW. 
 
 ing for a moment, and then went back to tKe 
 house. 
 
 "I must have a drink of that milk! " exclaimed 
 Marvel, springing up the moment she was gone, 
 under the strong impulse of hunger and thirst. 
 "Reckon bossy won*t grudge me a little, seein' I 
 ain't had no supper, nor much dinner." 
 
 He wrenched the pail away from the calf, who 
 seemed very unwilling to lose its supper, and 
 raising it to his lips drank eagerly. It was not 
 milk. Marvel hardly knew what it was: some 
 kind of porridge made of coarse meal, he thought ; 
 but what was good for a calf could not hurt him, 
 and he was famished. He was not accustomed to 
 go hungry, and he actually thought he was near 
 to starvation. So he drained the last drop, and 
 set the pail in its place with a sigh of relief. 
 
 "I kin pay the folks, same 's I did for the 
 eggs," he soliloquized; "but I can't make it up to 
 the calf, nohow. Poor little feller." 
 
 He lay down again thinking how very much 
 like the prodigal son he was, in being glad to get 
 a part of the food intended for a calf. Half 
 resolved to turn about and go back to his home 
 as soon as day dawned, he fell asleep. 
 
A PRODIGAL. S21 
 
 He awoke long before day. The stable door 
 was shut, and all was darkness around him. He 
 sat up and stared into the blackness, unable, for a 
 little while, to remember where he was. The 
 hard ground beneath him, and the loud breathing 
 of the cow beside him, filled him with terror. 
 But presently recollection returned, and the fear 
 gave place to keen pangs of homesickness. 
 
 "Wish 't I was home! Oh, I do! Reckon 
 I 've been a fool," he soliloquized. "Wish 't I 
 was home ! Dio might scold me all she 's a mind 
 to. Want to see Dio, an' Dean, and the baby! 
 Ma's baby 's gettin' a big girl. 'Must n't call 
 her Baby,' Dio says. 'She 's Mattie.' Wonder 
 when it '11 be mornin'! I '11 go home in the 
 mornin', sure! It 's an awful ways. Oh, dear! 
 Wish 't I was home ! " 
 
 He lay back in his place, but there was no more 
 sleep for him. Homesickness was strong upon 
 him, and he turned from side to side, restless and 
 unhappy. At last he rose to his feet, saying, 
 "Reckon I '11 go home now. Bright moonlight 
 outdoors, if I can only get that door open agin. 
 'I will arise and go unto my — home,'" with 
 thoughts of the prodigal in mind. "Home 's 
 
322 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 the best place, and when a feller has got a good 
 home he better stay there." 
 
 He stumbled and fell over the calf trying to 
 find the door, and when at last he found it, it was 
 fastened on the outside. He was a prisoner. 
 There was no help for it. He must stay and 
 await the dawn with what patience he could. 
 
 "Spect the man that fastened the door '11 come 
 out in the mornin' to milk, and I '11 be catched 
 here!" 
 
 He groaned aloud at the thought. Oh, to get 
 out! Oh, to get out, and away, unseen! He 
 could not bring himself to lie down in his un- 
 easiness. He stood long with his hand on the 
 door. Then, growing weary, he sat doAvn close 
 to it, always thinking what the owner of the 
 place would think of him and say to him when 
 he should find him there in the morning. He 
 shrank from the encounter he foresaw with un- 
 accountable fear and dread. 
 
 " Never slept in nobody's barn afore ! Ain't a 
 tramp, — nohow. But he '11 think I am. Maybe 
 he '11 swear at me. Hate to be sweared at. 
 Even John Faxon don't swear at me no more. 
 Wish 't T could get out! Oh, wish 't I was 
 home!" 
 
A PRODIGAL. 323 
 
 With much soliloquizing after this sort the 
 weary hours rolled by, till the cocks began to 
 herald the approach of day. At last the daylight 
 began to be visible through the interstices of the 
 logs of which the stable was built; and after 
 awhile Marvel could see what was around him. 
 Again he looked eagerly about for something, — 
 anything, behind which he might hide from the 
 eyes of the farmer, whom he expected to hear 
 coming any moment. There was absolutely 
 nothing at all adequate to the purpose. He 
 pushed hard at the door. It did not yield. He 
 examined carefully to see if he could not find out 
 how it was fastened, and undo it. However it 
 was, it was not to be opened from the inside. 
 
 He heard a door opening, and voices. Now it 
 was coming, and he must face it. The poor lad 
 shrank, cowering, into the darkest corner. A 
 cold perspiration broke out all over him, and he 
 trembled violently, overcome by a genuine panic, 
 — unreasonable and unreasoning. He • had just 
 sense enough left to run to his only refuge. 
 
 "O Lord! O my Lord! " he called in a hoarse 
 whisper, "help me now, and I '11 do jest whatever 
 you want me to." 
 
324 BILLOW PBAUUE. 
 
 Then came the drawing of a bolt on the stable 
 door, and the morning light came flooding in. 
 But while Marvel, quailing, waited to face the 
 comer, the fresh, girlish voice was heard calling 
 from the house door, — 
 
 "A pail of water, before you milk, please, 
 father!" 
 
 "All right," came the answer, and a milking- 
 pail was set in at the open door, and then reced- 
 ing steps told Marvel that the coast was clear. 
 
 He hurried to peep out. The man's back was 
 towards him, as he went to the well. The girl 
 was not to be seen. Marvel lost no time in get- 
 ting outdoors, and putting the barn between 
 himself and the house. Then he hurried off as 
 fast as his feet could carry him, ejaculating, "I 
 thank my Lord! I thank my Lord!" with real 
 fervency, and unspeakable relief. 
 
 When he was fairly off the premises, and in the 
 road, he felt that he might slacken his steps. 
 
 " Thou calledst in trouble, and I delivered 
 thee." The words came singing joyfully through 
 Marvel's mind. He had read and heard them 
 often, but he had never before repeated them. 
 He did not know that he could. When he 
 
A PRODIGAL. 325 
 
 had wished to repeat a verse of Scripture in his 
 turn at the Society meetings, he had often been at 
 a loss, unable to recall a single line in correct 
 form. But over and over and over these words 
 flowed through his mind, till he said them aloud 
 in his exultation. 
 
 " Thou calledst in trouble, and I delivered 
 thee." 
 
 "Now, I reckon, he wants me to go right 
 back home, and I 'm a goin', " said Marvel de- 
 cidedly. 
 
 He had come out on the west side of the barn, 
 and his flight had been toward the west. There- 
 fore he must retrace his steps. He turned and 
 began to walk toward the house. His fright was 
 all over and gone. He walked on, confident of 
 his claim to a share of the road, and strong in a 
 right resolution. 
 
 Just then that same clear voice rang out over 
 the prairie, with the call, "Break-fa-a-ast! " 
 
 How often, when at home, had he been sum- 
 moned from his work by exactly such a cry from 
 Dio's lips, and how joyfully had he responded! 
 How hungry he was now ! He wondered if they 
 would give him breakfast, if he paid for it. He 
 
326 BILLOW FUAUilE. 
 
 dived into his pocket, and brought up a quarter, 
 and a dime. 
 
 "I 'ma goin' to ask. It 's a free country, and 
 nobody can't be hung for askin', — specially when 
 they can pay." 
 
 He hurried on, full of confidence and joyful 
 expectation; a wholly different person from the 
 lad who had cowered behind the stable door. He 
 came up to the farmer's side just as he was going 
 in. 
 
 " Will you give me some breakfast this mornin' ? 
 I 'm willin' to pay fur it," said he displaying his 
 money. 
 
 It was a ruddy, genial face that met his. 
 And the reply was just what the face would lead 
 one to expect. 
 
 "Come right in! You 're welcome! Must 
 have made an early start this morning. Here, 
 daughter, we 've got company to breakfast. Put 
 on another plate." 
 
 The rosy face of the girl was exactly after the 
 type of the father's. She obeyed smilingly, and 
 invited Marvel to a place at the table. 
 
 "I sh'd like to wash my face an' hands first," 
 said he bashfully. 
 
A PRODIGAL. 327 
 
 The girl replied by filling a tin wash-basin 
 with water, and setting it on the bench beside the 
 door, where her father had just performed his 
 ablutions. "Here, then," she said, laying a 
 clean towel beside it. 
 
 Marvel made very thorough work with his face 
 and hands. He felt as if he could n't be clean 
 enough to sit down at that cosey, well-arranged 
 table, with its snow-white cloth, and shining 
 silver. It seemed strange to see such things in a 
 little log house, where everything else, except 
 perhaps the inmates, was as rough and plain as 
 could be. He wished he could do something to 
 make his hair smooth and neat, but he had neither 
 brush nor comb, and dared not ask for one. He 
 smoothed it with his hands as best he could, and 
 sat down at the table. 
 
 "I hope you are looking for work," said the 
 farmer. "I want help the worst way, and I '11 
 give you whatever wages I find you able to earn, 
 if you '11 stay with me two or three weeks at 
 least." 
 
 Marvel looked at the rosy-faced girl, and the 
 inviting breakfast, and felt that it was a tempta- 
 tion; but he answered, "Thank ye, but I can't 
 
328 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 stay. I 'm goin' home. They need me there the 
 worst way." 
 
 " Well, I 'm sorry. I hoped a hand had come 
 along to give me a lift. I '11 have to look up 
 somebody. Have you walked far this morning?" 
 
 "Not fur, "said Marvel stammeringly, and with 
 a sudden rush of color to his face, — "no, not fur." 
 
 His host noticed his embarrassment. "Slept in 
 some straw-stack about here, likely," was his 
 mental comment. But he asked no more ques- 
 tions. The father and daughter appeared to be 
 the sole occupants of the little home. Marvel 
 wondered if from this family, also, the mother 
 was gone to return no more, and the girl had to 
 fill her mother's place, as Dio did. But he dared 
 not ask. He wished he knew her name. Her 
 father called her only "Daughter," or sometimes, 
 playfully, "Dot." 
 
 When the meal was finished, she rose, and 
 brought to her father a Bible, from which he read. 
 They then knelt in prayer. This gave Marvel 
 great satisfaction. 
 
 "That 's the way we do at home," he said 
 when they had arisen. 
 
 "Is it? I 'm right glad of that!" said the 
 
A PRODIGAL. 329 
 
 farmer. "You like it, I see. Give us your 
 hand! I 'm always glad to meet one of the 
 Lord's followers. You 're that, are n't you?" 
 
 "Yes, I am," said Marvel, shaking hands. 
 "Now I must go. Here 's the pay for my 
 breakfast." 
 
 "I could n't think of taking a cent. I 'm too 
 glad to have a visitor. Keep your money till 
 you 're among strangers. We 're kinsfolk, you 
 know." 
 
 "Well, I thank ye kindly," said Marvel, quite 
 in a glow with pleasure and gratitude. He shook 
 liands with the girl also, and started out at the 
 door. A thought turned him back. 
 
 "Will ye take that?" he said, offering a dime. 
 "It is n't for the breakfast. I — I don't like to 
 tell what it 's fur, but I '11 feel better if ye take 
 it." 
 
 "I don't see howl can take it, not knowing 
 what it 's for," said the farmer. "If you 've had 
 anything more of me than breakfast you 're wel- 
 come to it." 
 
 Marvel hesitated, — looked into the good, 
 genial face before him, and burst forth with, — 
 
 "Reckon I '11 tell you all about it, after all. 
 
330 BILLOW PRAIEIE. 
 
 Ye see, I got angry, an' foolish like, an' I come 
 away from home, — as good a home as any body 's 
 got. I walked all day, an' come night I was that 
 fagged out that I was glad to sleep on your stable 
 floor, — an' that hungry that I did n't scorn to 
 drink of the stuff the calf had for his sup- 
 per. Don't want to steal nothin', so take the 
 dime." 
 
 The farmer laughed heartily. " So you slept in 
 my stable, did you? How did you get out this 
 morning, and I not see you? " 
 
 Marvel told him. He laughed again. 
 
 "Well, well! and you 're going home now?" 
 
 Marvel nodded. "I am that," said he decid- 
 edly. 
 
 "That 's right. Keep your dime. I don't 
 want it. Ha! ha! And, Dot, give that calf an 
 extra quart of porridge this morning. Ha! ha! 
 ha! Good-by, my lad." 
 
 He walked off to the barn, while Marvel still 
 stood looking helplessly at his dime, and from 
 that to the girl, who had listened, much amused, 
 but afraid to laugh lest her visitor should be too 
 much disconcerted. 
 
 "Good-by," said she kindly. 
 
A PRODIGAL. SSI 
 
 "Good-by," replied Marvel," and thank ye 
 too." 
 
 He actually took off his hat and made her a 
 bow, as he had sometimes seen Dean do, so lifted 
 out of himself and his own awkwardness was he 
 by her polite and kind manner. 
 
 He walked away, looking back frequently to 
 meet her smile as she watched his departure. 
 
 " She 's nice ! — nice as a new gold pin ! " said he, 
 when he could no longer see her. "I do' know 
 but she 's most nicer than Dio. Wonder if my 
 Lord does n't like that kind better 'n such rough 
 uns as me. Sh'd think he would. Reckon I 
 might be some nicer if I tried hard. Made a bow 
 jest as good as Dean does. I 'm goin' to im- 
 prove. Dio '11 see if I don't. Did n't eat like 
 a savage 'fore that girl, anyhow. I was keerful 
 an' slow. I know now how Dio meant, — like a 
 dog eats, — gobblin' of it down! Don't eat that 
 way no more. My Lord don't like it no better 'n 
 Dio does, I reckon. Goin' to please him all I can, 
 'cause he 's been good to me. ' Thou calledst in 
 trouble, and I delivered thee!'" and Marvel 
 walked on homeward, singing his verse over 
 and over as he went. 
 
332 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 SOLDIERS OF THE CROSS. 
 
 The work of the day was done, and Dean, with 
 his younger brother and sisters, were sitting 
 around the open door, singing the hymns with 
 which they often prolonged the family worship, 
 when Marvel, weary, footsore, and hungry, came 
 in sight. They all ran out to meet him, and 
 brought him in with great rejoicing. Dio clung 
 to his arm and tried to tell him how sorry she 
 had been for the cross words she had spoken, but 
 there was such a tumult that her apology was 
 drowned in it. When it had a little subsided, 
 they all saw how weary, and guessed how hungry 
 the wanderer was, and a meal was quickly pre- 
 pared and set before him. 
 
 He had not spoken many words. To Dio he 
 said, "It 's all right. I 'm goin' to improve," 
 and kissed her, — a thing he had never done 
 before since her recollection. He kissed little 
 Martha again and again, and returned Dean's 
 
SOLDIERS OF THE CROSS. 333 
 
 warm, brotherly greeting with one as hearty. 
 When seated at his meal, utterly wearied out 
 as he was, he did not forget a proper regard to his 
 new resolutions. But rest was the thing he 
 needed most of all, and as soon as his hunger was 
 satisfied he went up to his own dear room, and 
 gladly lay down in his own bed. 
 
 Dean did not neglect to find an early oppor- 
 tunity to talk matters over with his brother, and 
 come to an understanding with him. This was 
 not hard, as Marvel seemed entirely cured of his 
 jealousy since his return home. He had come to 
 a settled conclusion that all that John Faxon had 
 been putting into his head was wrong and evil, 
 and therefore displeasing to his Lord, whom he 
 now seemed, more than ever before, intent upon 
 pleasing. He protested that he wished nothing 
 but that matters should go on as usual. 
 
 But Dean was determined that since Marvel 
 was the oldest, he should be pushed to the front 
 more than he had been. He felt sure that he was 
 now in such a frame of mind that he would take 
 no important step without due consultation with 
 the rest, and it would therefore be safe for him 
 to have the direction of affairs, and it would do 
 
334 BILLOW PEAIBIE. 
 
 him good to do so. From this time he was care- 
 ful, after expressing his ideas and opinions, to 
 leave decisions with Marvel. The effect of the 
 new responsibility was soon apparent in Marvel's 
 increasing manliness and dignity, while he ex- 
 hibited an almost painful solicitude that all 
 should be done in accordance with the united 
 wisdom of the family. 
 
 Miss Felicia came to see Marvel as soon as she 
 knew of his return home. He was quite abashed 
 before her, as he had been in the habit of consult- 
 ing her on all occasions till lately. He would 
 have avoided the interview if he could. He had 
 dreaded and yet longed to see her and have her 
 verdict on his behavior. 
 
 "Why, Marvel! " said she, coming in with her 
 free, strong step, — she was quite over her lame- 
 ness now, — and her cheerful, wholesome, homely 
 face beaming with friendliness, " I 'm glad to see 
 you home again. What have I done that you 
 can't trust me any more ? You used to believe in 
 me, as a friend, at least." 
 
 "So I do now, Miss F'licia!" said Marvel, 
 rising and shaking the hand she offered, while 
 still unable to face lier in his shamefacedness. 
 
SOLDIERS OF THE CROSS. 335 
 
 "Then why did you go off so, and never tell 
 me a word about it ? I could have told you a 
 thing or two about John Faxon, and saved you 
 all that long tramp." 
 
 "Reckon I 'd better," he replied, giving her 
 his chair and then backing into another so awk- 
 wardly, in his confusion, that he had nearly 
 seated himself upon the floor. Having recovered 
 himself and gained his seat, he tipped back on 
 two legs of the chair as a means of restoring his 
 mental equipoise, and went on, "Reckon I was 
 boun' to go off foolin'. Learnt me some lessons! 
 Do me more good than harm, maybe." 
 
 "I hope so, I 'm sure," said Miss Felicia. 
 "But I don't like it, nevertheless. And I don't 
 understand it." 
 
 "Ye can't understand it, 'cause there wa' n't no 
 sense into it. I ain't goin' to do so no more, Miss 
 F'licia. I 've made up my mind that my friends 
 is my friends, and I 'm goin' to trust to 'em, 'fore 
 all the world." 
 
 " That 's right ! Your friends are worthy of 
 trust, and you ought to have confidence enough 
 in them to talk things over with them, and be 
 sure that they mean right and will do right if 
 you only give them the chance." 
 
336 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 "I know it, — I know it now! I 'm a-goin' to 
 act upon it futur' to come, Miss F'licia." 
 
 One way in which Marvel showed a desire and 
 purpose to improve was in his use of language. 
 Not, however, by the correction of the constant 
 inaccuracies so much as by the introduction of 
 new and " big " words, which, as he did not fully 
 understand their meaning, were sometimes ludi- 
 crously inapt and ambiguous. Miss P^elicia 
 noticed this, with an amused recollection of the 
 same trait in his father; and quietly tried to turn 
 it to account by correcting Marvel's mistakes in 
 her answers. She therefore replied, — 
 
 "I suppose I shall have to forgive you. But 
 you must promise to tell me, in future, about your 
 plans, just as you always have." 
 
 "I will, Miss F'licia! I will, and be glad to, 
 if yer '11 please be so good as to disremember this 
 one time." 
 
 "We '11 forget it altogether," said Miss Felicia, 
 " and that 's better yet. At least, I like the word 
 forget when it comes to our sins and follies. 
 'Forgetting the things that are behind,' you 
 know the good Word says." 
 
 "Does it say so?" said Marvel in pleased sur- 
 
SOLDIERS OF THE CROSS. 337 
 
 prise. "Why, now, I 'm glad of that! It 's a 
 heap of comfort to be let to forget it all, when 
 ye We been foolisji, and gone wrong and disgrace- 
 ful. Miss F'licia, it come to me all to once 
 when I was away that my Lord likes nice folks. 
 I 'm goin' to try to be nice." 
 
 "I think he likes good folks, whether they 
 are nice or not," said Miss Felicia. "The most 
 important thing is to be good." 
 
 " Oh, I know that. I 'm goin' fur that more 'n 
 I ever did before. But I think nice ways will 
 please him a little too, so I 'm goin' in fur 
 them." 
 
 "Well," said Miss Felicia, "I would." 
 
 "And you '11 help me? 'Cause ye always 
 knew how, better 'n most round here." 
 
 "Yes, I '11 help you all I can," said Miss 
 Felicia kindly. "And now tell me all that 
 happened to you while you were away." 
 
 While Marvel did this Miss Felicia did not 
 fail to notice the new tenderness and reverence 
 with which he constantly made use of the en- 
 dearing term, "my Lord," in telling how he 
 had been helped, and guided, and comforted; and 
 she thought it was perhaps true that the expe- 
 
338 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 rience had done him more good than harm. He 
 seemed, certainly, to have made a decided ad- 
 vance in the development of Christian character. 
 
 After Miss Felicia had gone another caller 
 stopped at the door. Max Boyd had come with 
 a double errand. He had just learned that John 
 Faxon and his wife were both ill with malarial 
 fever; and as there was considerable sickness in 
 the neighborhood, no one could be found to care 
 for them but an old lady, who was quite too 
 feeble to do all that was necessary. A man's 
 strong arm was needed to supplement her weak- 
 ness, and also to care for the stock. 
 
 Marvel had dreaded to face John Faxon's 
 ridicule much more than Miss Felicia's kindly 
 judgment, and had been secretly glad that he had 
 not yet met him. But now he did not hesitate 
 to offer his services. 
 
 "I would have gone myself,'* said Max, "but 
 I 'm off for Kidder to-morrow. That 's the 
 other part of my errand, — to tell you, and say 
 'good-by.' Mr. Capen got me the chance: — a 
 place where my work nights and mornings will 
 pay my board. For the rest, I 've been saving 
 up some considerable, so I shall manage to get 
 
SOLDIERS OF THE CROSS. 339 
 
 along. Thank the Lord my way is open now, 
 and it won't be my fault, I hope, if I don't get 
 there." 
 
 "How are you going? It 's a long way to 
 Kidder, is n't it?" asked Dio. 
 
 "Yes, it 's a good stretch, I believe. Horace 
 will take me a day's ride with the mules, and 
 then I 'm going to foot it. Can't waste money 
 on railroads, you know. I can walk on 'em 
 though. That won't cost me anything, and 
 it 's the shortest and straightest road a body can 
 find." 
 
 " Reckon you '11 get tired 'fore you get there, 
 if it 's fur," said Marvel, with his late experi- 
 ence in mind. "But then you ain't lame, and 
 you 're powerful strong." 
 
 " Yes, I 'm strong, — strong for Htm ! — so 
 I 've to make the very most of my strength. I 
 don't mean to fool none of it away." 
 
 "No," said Marvel humbly. "I don't 'spect 
 you will. But I must be goin'. John Faxon 
 needs me, and my strength is fur Him too, — 
 such as 't is." 
 
 Max had not intended the rebuke that Marvel 
 appropriated to himself. He offered his hand 
 
340 BILLOW PBAIBIE. 
 
 to Marvel as he was turning to go away, having 
 made a few slight preparations. "You and I 
 are both in the same army, and in the same 
 regiment too. Soldiers of the Cross! Ain't 
 we, Marv?" 
 
 "That we are! " said Marvel taking the offered 
 hand with a brightening face. "Yes. Soldiers 
 of the Cross ! Good-by. " 
 
 "Good-by, Marv," said Max warmly. Marvel 
 started on his walk. Max lingered yet a little 
 longer to talk over his prospects with Dean and 
 Dio, and then said good-by to them and gal- 
 loped off down the road and out of their sight. 
 
A FAITHFUL PEIVATE, 341 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 A FAITHFUL PRIVATE. 
 
 Marvel walked away over the prairie toward 
 John Faxon's thinking over Max's last words. 
 ''Soldiers of the Cross," he mused. "Yes, yes, 
 that 's it ! I want to be a good soldier. Reckon 
 Max '11 git to be an officer some day. I can't 
 be nothin' but a private, — a poor private all the 
 days of my life. I 'd like to be some thin' more, 
 but! ain't fit." 
 
 He fell into a despondent mood, and walked on 
 in gloomy silence for a while. All at once he 
 stopped, and slapping his hands together vigor- 
 ously he said, " Git out behind me, Satan ! I '11 
 be jest the faithfulest private 'at ever I kin. I 
 won't miss o' doin' one least little thing 'at He 
 gives me to do. Here 's for John Faxon's and 
 work for my Lord! Reckon him as got only 
 one talent might ha' got jest as good a word 
 from Him as them two others, if he 'd only done 
 the best he could with the one." 
 
342 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 He started on briskly, singing aloud, — 
 I'll do with my might what my hands find to do. 
 
 Marvel rarely got anything in exactly the right 
 words, but he was now in exactly the right spirit. 
 
 When he reached John Faxon's he found 
 enough to do to keep both head and hands full. 
 He was needed as much indoors as out. The 
 neglected baby was creeping about the dirty 
 floor wailing fretfully, while the old woman, Mrs. 
 Dimon, who seemed even more inefficient than 
 feeble, was trying to bring a half dead coal fire, 
 choked with ashes and cinders, to life, that she 
 might prepar^ some nourishment for the poor 
 child. 
 
 Emily, on her bed, burning with fever, was 
 chafing with irritation and disquiet at the con- 
 dition of things around her, and full of fears for 
 her baby. 
 
 "O Marvel," said she when she saw him 
 come in, " never was a woman gladder to see any- 
 body than I am to see you! We 're all sick, — 
 goin' to die, I reckon ; and there 's that poor baby, 
 — nobody to take care of her. She 's just crying 
 with hunger, and that old thing," with a con- 
 
A FAITHFUL PRIVATE. 343 
 
 temptuous motion toward old Mrs. Dimon, who 
 proved to be nearly deaf, " she does n't know a 
 thing only how to smoke her pipe. Can't even 
 keep the fire goin'. Do build up a new fire for 
 her, and then take up the baby and quiet her till 
 she can have something to eat." 
 
 Marvel set himself to work without delay. He 
 soon had the stove cleared, and a fresh fire burn- 
 ing. The ashes and cinders, which were strewn 
 almost to the middle of the room, he swept up 
 and carried outdoors. 
 
 Mrs. Dimon had picked up the baby and settled 
 into a chair as soon as she saw that some one had 
 come to her relief. The poor little thing con- 
 tinued fretting, seeming to regard such tending 
 as little better than none. So Marvel now 
 took her that the old woman might prepare her 
 food. 
 
 "Give her a clean dish," called Emily from the 
 bed. " She 's used that one till it 's sour, I 'm 
 sure ; and she 's burned the milk on till it is n't 
 fit to feed the cat in. I can't make her hear or 
 understand a thing I say. She just pokes about 
 and does her own ways. Give her a clean dish 
 from the cupboard, and then do wash that poor 
 
344 BILLOW PRAIRIE, 
 
 child and make her comfortable, so she can go to 
 sleep after she 's fed." 
 
 "I will," said Marvel cheerfully. "I know 
 how. Reckon I 've done it often enough for our 
 Mattie. She '11 be all right soon as she 's had 
 her supper." 
 
 With the baby on his arm, he went to the cup- 
 board and found a clean, bright tin, which he put 
 into the old woman's hands, taking from her the 
 one she was about to use ; and then he washed the 
 baby's face and hands, and put warm, dry clothing 
 upon her, and combed the tangles out of her shin- 
 ing hair, charming or astonishing her into quiet 
 all the while. 
 
 When she had been fed she was laid in her 
 cradle, where she fell asleep almost immediately. 
 Then, having moved the cradle to the foot of the 
 bed where she could see for herself that her little 
 one was sleeping sweetly, he brought water and 
 washed Emily's hot face and hands, and gave 
 her her medicine, after which she was more 
 quiet and comfortable. 
 
 John had not yet been as sick as Emily. He 
 was struggling desperately with the disease that 
 was daily gaining a stronger hold upon him. He 
 
A FAITHFUL PRIVATE. 345 
 
 had attended upon his sick wife, and his child, 
 while almost too dizzy and sick to stand. Just 
 before Marvel's entrance he had given up, for the 
 first time, to his feelings, and thrown himself 
 upon a lounge in the corner of the room, unable 
 to give his help though they should all die 
 together. 
 
 But there were times when he could sit up, and 
 even walk outdoors a little. His fever was in- 
 termittent, and was at its height at the moment 
 of Marvel's coming. 
 
 He was not less relieved at the sight of him 
 than Emily had been, but he was too bitterly cross 
 and angry at the situation to speak at all, so he 
 simply lay still, giving no sign of life or interest. 
 
 When a degree of order and comfort had been 
 restored to the room, and Marvel began to think 
 what work there might be outdoors for him to do, he 
 turned to the master of the house for directions. 
 
 " 'T ain't no consequence about things outdoors, 
 Marv," he replied. "You '11 milk the cows, and 
 feed the horses, of course. I 've made out to do 
 it, so fur. But the harvestin' can go undone. It 
 won't make a mite of difference, if we 're all 
 goin' to die, and I reckon maybe we are. Looks 
 
346 BILLOW PRAIIUK. 
 
 like it. I git worse every day, and Emily every 
 minit. Jest you take care o' things in the house. 
 When the doctor comes, listen sharp to what he 
 says do for Emily. See that she has her medi- 
 cines regular, and the baby its milk. Don't trust 
 anything to the old woman. I 've tried to see to 
 it, but I 've got to where I can't trust myself to 
 remember." 
 
 Having given Marvel these instructions, John 
 gave himself up to moaning and groaning on his 
 own account. He was no patient sufferer. He 
 had not known sickness before in years, and 
 really thought himself at the point of death. 
 
 But the next morning found him feeling so 
 much better that his tone was more cheerful, and 
 he even went about outdoors a little, and gave 
 Marvel some directions about things that were in 
 pressing need of being done. 
 
 Marvel did his best, and had the comfort of 
 knowing that he was exceedingly useful. He 
 bore with John's crossness, cheered him in his 
 despondency, and waited upon him in his hours 
 of pain and fever with patience and tenderness. 
 
 The weary days went on. Emily seemed 
 neither better nor worse. The baby, being 
 
A FAITHFUL PRIVATE. 347 
 
 tolerably well cared for, was in good health and 
 not very troublesome. Mrs. Dimon was more 
 useful with Marvel at her elbow to prompt and 
 assist her. One day when John was sitting up in 
 his chair, just well enough to be a little mali- 
 cious, he said to Marvel, — 
 
 "You did n't stay away long, Marv, did you? 
 I s'pose you let Dean boss it over you just the 
 same as ever, when you 're at home." 
 
 Marvel was at this moment busy washing out 
 some of the baby's clothes. He drew his hands 
 up out of the suds, and wiping the foam off his 
 arms with either hand, looked in John's face with 
 grave dignity. 
 
 "Mister Faxon," said he, "I want to tell ye a 
 parable. Leastways it seems to me kind o' like 
 a parable. Mister Faxon, the evil one what goes 
 roarin' round seekin' what he may devour, with 
 the help o' some humans whose name I need n't 
 to mention, set a poor fool feller on to go off, like 
 he was the prodigal son, and leave as good a 
 home as anybody 's got, and to think hard of a 
 brother what can be trusted to do fair, an' right, 
 an' hon'rable, an' don't take onto himself no more 
 bossin' than he 's obleeged to. That feller come 
 
348 BILLOW PBAIRIE, 
 
 to his senses 'fore long, and he rose and come 
 back to his home an' his brother, and he don't 
 want nothin' more to do with the evil one ; and as 
 fur that human, why, he forgives him and hopes 
 the Lord will, but he ain't a-goin' to hearken to 
 no more nonsense from him." 
 
 Having delivered this long speech. Marvel 
 turned his back on his tempter, and, plunging his 
 arms to the elbows in the warm soapsuds, fell to 
 scrubbing so vigorously that further attempts at 
 conversation were useless at present. 
 
 The following day John tried to excuse himself 
 by saying, "Well, Marv, I did n't mean to set 
 you on to do no more than to stan' up for your 
 rights like a man. You know 't was your own 
 notion, goin' off so. You can't say as I proposed 
 it to you." 
 
 To which Marvel replied, with an astonished 
 stare, " What did ye mean, then ? "* 
 
 " Why, as I said afore, to have you stan' up for 
 your rights, and not let anybody impose upon 
 you." 
 
 "Miss F'licia says if ye 've got good friends ye 
 can't do better 'n to trust to 'em," Marvel began; 
 but John interrupted impatiently, — 
 
A FAITHFUL PRIVATE. 349 
 
 "Well, for my part, I don't want to be under 
 nobody's thumb, nor tied to any old maid's apron- 
 string, either." 
 
 This speech roused Marvel to such a white heat 
 of anger that for a minute he was wholly unable 
 to utter a word. When he did speak it was with 
 the same slow dignity he had shown yesterday. 
 
 "Mister Faxon," said he, "I don't know who 
 yer mean by old maid. When my Lord saw 
 fittin' to take my mother up to heaven he sent 
 one o' the best women he ever made to take her 
 place to me, an' to my brothers an' sisters. I hope 
 ye don't mean her, — Miss F'licia, 'cause if ye 
 do I don't know but 't would be jest'fication in 
 me to go right home, an' leave yer to take keer o' 
 yer own self, an' yer own sick folks." 
 
 "O Marv! now you must n't mind what a man 
 says when he 's so blamed mis'rable that he can't 
 hardly speak a civil word to his own family. I 
 don't mean it, Marv." 
 
 "Wall, I 'm glad ye don't, 'cause I could n't 
 Stan' that nohow," said Marvel, coming down to 
 the ordinary plane. " Will ye take yer med'cine 
 now, John?" 
 
 John took his medicine with much less ob- 
 
350 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 jection than usual, and turned over to go to 
 sleep. 
 
 This last encounter seemed to settle matters 
 with John Faxon, leaving the victory with Mar- 
 vel, for never another word was spoken that could 
 give him offense while he stayed. 
 
 Emily's disease at last took a favorable turn, 
 but John seemed to set all the doctor's prescrip- 
 tions at defiance. His fever burned higher and 
 hotter, till he was confined entirely to the bed. 
 Weak, petulant, childish, unwilling to take his 
 medicine or follow his physician's directions, 
 unless they were quite agreeable and required no 
 effort on his part, he kept Marvel busy all day, 
 and awake much of the night. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that Marvel bore with 
 so trying a patient, at all times, without severe 
 struggles to maintain his patience, and honor the 
 Master in whose name he had undertaken this 
 hard task. There was a hollow in the biggest 
 straw-stack where the cows had eaten it away till 
 they had made for themselves a shelter in its very 
 heart. Into this he often went to beg for the 
 strength and help he needed. And he never came 
 out to take his place again at the bedside till he 
 
A FAITHFUL PRIVATE. 351 
 
 was calmed and strengthened to do and to bear 
 whatever his Lord should lay upon him. 
 
 At last John's fever seemed to have burned 
 out, and he, too, began to creep back to life and 
 health. At first the improvement was slow and 
 almost imperceptible, but when he began to sit 
 up a little, and to eat, his strength returned 
 more rapidly. When he began to go outdoors 
 again, the trees, that had been green with heavy 
 foliage when he lay down, were bare; and the 
 leaden sky and chilly winds told that the year 
 was waning to its close. 
 
 Kind neighbors had harvested his crops for 
 him, and nothing had been allowed to go seriously 
 wrong on the place. His spirit was softened as 
 he comprehended all this, and from being childish 
 in his weakness, he became childlike in gentle 
 and grateful feelings. 
 
 One day when he had become able to do a little 
 work he said to Marvel laughingly, — 
 
 "I 'm a'most afraid to let you see me doin' this 
 for fear you '11 think I 'm gettin' so well that you 
 can leave me. You won't go away yet awhile, 
 will you, Marv?" 
 
 "Must go home soon 's ever I kin," said 
 
352 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 Marvel. "But I s'pect I better stay this month 
 out. Reckon ye can do without me after that." 
 
 "I wish I could keep you altogether, Marv. 
 I 'd pay you good wages." 
 
 "Home 's home," said Marvel sententiously. 
 
 "1 s'pose so," sighed John. "Well, you shall 
 be well paid for all the time you 've been here." 
 
 "Did n't come fur money," said Marvel. 
 
 "I know it, Marv. Would n't nobody have 
 taken care of me as you have, when I was 
 Grosser 'n a hedgehog, for money. But you shall 
 have it all the same. I 'm able to pay, and I 'm 
 bound to pay you. Before you go away I want 
 you to let me into a secret." 
 
 "What is it?" asked Marvel. 
 
 " Why, I want to know how it 's come about 
 that your family is jest altogether different from 
 what Felix Windom ever was, or his children 
 were like to be." 
 
 "I don't know as I kin, — or as you '11 believe 
 me, if I do," said Marvel. "I reckon 't ain't 
 wuth a while fur me to try to tell ye." 
 
 There was distrust, as well as shyness, in this 
 answer, and John perceived it. 
 
 "Don't answer me that a way, Marv," said he. 
 
A FAITHFUL PRIVATE. 353 
 
 " How do you know I ain't askin' so 's I could 
 f oiler the same road ? I see plain as day that it 's 
 a road that leads up, not down, and I 've got a 
 child now, and that makes a heap of difference. 
 And, moreover, I 've been so near to t'other 
 world that I could n't help thinkin' some about it. 
 I tell you the honest truth, Marv ; I jest would 
 like to get into that way, if I could find out how 
 to begin." 
 
 Marvel had looked at John doubtfully when he 
 began to say this, and John had returned his look 
 with one of grave earnestness. Marvel's face 
 flushed with joy as the conviction grew upon him 
 that John was not at his old tricks, but was truly 
 inquiring the way. He hesitated how to begin, 
 feeling utterly incapable. 
 
 "Ye better ask them as is officers," said he at 
 length. "I 'm only a private, and don't know 
 none too much — make the best of me." 
 
 "You know the way, and I 'd rather trust to 
 your tellin' than anybody's, for I believe in you, 
 Marv. So go ahead. I 'm jest altogether willin' 
 to turn about now, if I can only get a start on 
 that road." 
 
 " Wall, lemme see if I kin tell ye, " said Marvel, 
 
354 BILLOW PEAllUE. 
 
 fixing his eyes on a row of low bushes that skirted 
 the creek, and vigorously twisting a lock of hay 
 as he talked. " If ye reely want to git inter the 
 way, I reckon ye 've got to begin as we begun." 
 
 " Yes, that 's it ! How did you begin ? " 
 
 "Why, it was jest readin' the Bible first off. 
 When Granny died, ma was with her, an' she 
 made her promise as how she 'd read the Testa- 
 ment out loud to us child 'en, every day of her 
 life. Ma thought a heap of Granny, 'cause she 
 fetched her up. Ma never was much to her 
 home, but lived with Granny. So she promised, 
 and when she come home, after Granny was 
 buried, she did it. I kin see, now, jest how she 
 flushed up first time she did it." Here Marvel 
 came to a full stop, with his eyes fixed on the 
 fringe of the little stream. They had seated 
 themselves on the ground, or rather on the straw 
 against the sunny side of the big straw-stack, — 
 the same one in which was Marvel's closet. 
 
 "Well, what next?" said John with some im- 
 patience, seeing that the story was not likely to 
 be continued. 
 
 Marvel gave a little start, and awoke out of his 
 revery. "What next? Where was I? Oh, ma 
 
A FAITHFUL PRIVATE. 355 
 
 read every day. Pa did n't help her much. 
 Teared to think 't wa n't much use. Did n't say 
 much, but was kind o' scornful like, — and I, — I 
 thought them times I wa' n't nobody 'thout I 
 follered after pa in everything, so I was more 
 scornfuller 'n he was. But ma kep' it up, all the 
 same. Ma had the best kind o' grit, — the kind 
 that keeps right on a-doin'. She did n't never 
 say much, but she kep' right on a-doin'." 
 
 Again Marvel seemed to have come to the end 
 of the story. 
 
 " Well, what else ? " said John. 
 
 "Not anything else, as I know of, only Dean 
 seemed to take to it. He got so he could read, 
 and he would read when ma could n't, and so," 
 said Marvel, at a loss how to proceed, " they kep' 
 right on doin' till ma died." 
 
 "But I don't see! Was that all they did? 
 Jest readin' the Bible?" said John. 
 
 "Jest readin' the Bible and doin' what it said," 
 said Marvel. "No use a readin', ye know, if ye 
 don't do what it says. They did both." 
 
 "Well, I reckon I 've got information enough 
 to last me a spell," said John. "Anybody can 
 set to and read the Bible every day, but when it 
 
356 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 comes to doin' jest as it says in everything," — 
 He paused in deep thought. 
 
 "No use readin' 'thout doin'," persisted Marvel. 
 
 John pondered long, and then asked once 
 more, — 
 
 "And that 'sail, is it?" 
 
 "I reckon they begun askin' 'fore long. 
 Reckon a body has to ask 'fore they git fur on 
 that road," said Marvel. 
 
 " Askin' ? " said John. " You mean" — 
 
 "Askin' the Lord. 'T ain't always an easy 
 road, ye know. They begun to ask, soon 's they 
 knew they might, for one thing and another, till 
 they got so they asked 'bout everything." 
 
 Again John pondered long in silence. 
 
 "That 's all, I reckon," said Marvel, thinking 
 he was waiting for him to go on. 
 
 " But you ? — you was kind o' scornful you said. 
 I reckon I 've been some scornful like, myself. 
 How 'd you get turned round?" 
 
 "I jest turned round, and promised to love 
 God, after ma died," said Marvel. 
 
 " Anybody can promise to do what 's right, — 
 or try to, — but they can't promise to love if they 
 don't love, as I see," said John. 
 
A FAITHFUL PBIVATE, 357 
 
 " I did, " said Marvel simply. 
 
 John's head went down between his knees, so 
 that his face could not be seen. He groaned 
 aloud. Marvel was distressed, thinking it was 
 all because of his poor way of directing John that 
 he found the way so dark and difficult. He 
 tried to think what more he could say. Looking 
 around, in his perplexity, his eyes fell upon the 
 hole in the stack where he had so often hidden 
 to beg for help to do, or to bear. The look 
 prompted his next word. 
 
 "What seems 's if ye can 't do, ye must ask 
 help to do," said he. 
 
 John was silent a long time, with face still 
 hidden. 
 
 "Reckon I ought to feed them cows. Sun 's 
 gettin' low. An' ye ought to go in. I 've told 
 ye all I know," said Marvel. 
 
 "Well, go then," said John, but without raising 
 his head. 
 
 Marvel went a few steps, — then stopped, and 
 looked at the bowed head with wistful face. 
 Then he went back and, stooping over it, said 
 with the air of one revealing a secret, — 
 
358 BILLOW PliAIRlE. 
 
 " Ther 's a splendid good place to pray in that 
 hole the cows have gnawed out 'n the straw- 
 stack. I 've tried it times an' times, when you 
 was sick, an' rantankerous, an' I was most out o' 
 patience, an' to my wits' end." 
 
 Having imparted this bit of information he 
 limped away as fast as he could go, to attend to 
 the cows. 
 
 John sat still yet awhile longer. The great 
 struggle was upon him. He knew now what he 
 was to do. Something within him said rebel- 
 liously, " Go into that hole to pray, at the bidding 
 of that idiot! — I reckon not!" And another 
 voice seemed to be saying just as clearly, " It 's 
 now or never! Now or never! " 
 
 Then he thought how through all his sickness 
 Marvel had watched over him, and tended him. 
 " I ought to be ashamed of thinking that thing. 
 I reckon I owe my life to the poor lad, any- 
 how! " he said half aloud. 
 
 With the battle still raging within, he got up, 
 and almost against his own will, as it seemed to 
 him, he forced his feet to walk into that cavity in 
 the stack where Marvel had been used to pray. 
 
A FAITHFUL PRIVATE. 359 
 
 He kneeled down, and the battle was won. 
 Whether he prayed or not he scarcely knew; 
 but he knew that his will yielded, and that 
 henceforth God was his God, and Christ his 
 Saviour. 
 
360 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 LAST WORDS. 
 
 Five years have rolled away, bringing many 
 changes upon Billow Prairie. That house which 
 Dean and Marvel were to help build for Albert 
 Lewis, in return for the work he had done on 
 their new dwelling, has gone up, but a little over 
 a mile from both homes; and from it, on this 
 bright June Sabbath, comes a proud and happy 
 pair, bringing their first babe to baptism in the 
 new church, that was dedicated only a few 
 months ago. There is not so much change in the 
 young father that we shall not quickly recognize 
 in him Albert Lewis. He is only a little more 
 mature and manly looking. The mother, 
 slighter, and perhaps a little paler than of old, 
 has Dio's bright dark eyes and fair complexion. 
 
 The church is full to overflowing. There are 
 several reasons for this. It is not a very large 
 church, and it is yet a new thing to have a church 
 in the vicinity. Moreover, the number of families 
 
LAST WORDS. 361 
 
 upon Billow Prairie has increased. And this is 
 an extraordinary occasion. No wonder the church 
 is full. 
 
 After the opening exercises, the pastor takes in 
 his arms the little infant, which the young 
 parents present before him; and putting the 
 baptismal water upon its forehead, says solemnly, 
 
 "Felicia, I baptize thee into the name of the 
 Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost; 
 Amen." 
 
 There are tears in Dio's eyes, as the babe is 
 given back into her arms, and she registers in her 
 heart the vow of consecration. 
 
 Then John Faxon and Emily come forward, 
 bringing a baby boy. John looks somewhat older 
 and graver, and Emily is scarcely as fresh and 
 fair as before the cares of motherhood rested upon 
 her; but both faces are serenely joyful, and they 
 look with pardonable pride upon the three fair 
 olive plants that have sprung up around their 
 table. This is their first boy. Will any smile 
 contemptuously when they hear it named John 
 Marvel Faxon? We think not. Marvel is 
 respected in all the neighborhood for his steadfast 
 piety, and loved for his kindness and willingness 
 
362 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 to help in every time of trouble . Moreover, it is 
 well understood that he is almost as much at 
 home in John Faxon's house as in his own; and 
 John feels that he owes him a debt of grateful 
 love that he can never repay. 
 
 There is not to be a sermon by the pastor to-day. 
 A younger man, one not yet ordained, is to speak 
 to the people. As he rises we ought to know 
 that broad, genial face, and yet it is so changed 
 by the subtle power of mind and soul over matter 
 that we are in doubt whether we may not be mis- 
 taken. But it certainly is none other than Max 
 Boyd. 
 
 Clear, plain, practical, earnest are the words he 
 speaks. Just what we might expect, who heard 
 his first attempts at public prayer and exhor- 
 tation. Those of the congregation who knew him 
 of old soon forget that it is one of themselves, 
 and one formerly among the roughest and most 
 irreligious of their number, who is speaking to 
 them. Their hearts are moved to stronger desires 
 after the greatest good. They are stirred to crave 
 more earnestly that best gift that includes all 
 others, — the gift of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 When the service has closed there is a little 
 
LAST WORDS. 363 
 
 pause, — and then all his old acquaintances come 
 crowding forward to greet the young speaker. 
 Dean is there with his young wife, the eldest 
 daughter of his former employer, now his partner, 
 Mr. Budd. 
 
 Marvel and Rolfe are there too. Marvel is 
 little changed. More robust than of old, more 
 comely and manly looking, for the light, rather 
 scanty beard is yet sufficient to cover the thin 
 cheeks and mouth, to the advantage of the whole 
 face. We well know that any other than the 
 outward change will be for the better, because he 
 is one of God's own children, and therefore sure 
 to go on from grace to grace, and from strength 
 to strength. 
 
 Rolfe, at twenty-one, is just the straight- 
 forward, reliable, manly young fellow one 
 likes to see. Never putting himself forward, 
 he is yet ready for every good work, and 
 has a special faculty for applying his force 
 at exactly the right time and place to make it 
 tell. 
 
 Vinnie too is present. She has grown and 
 changed past all our recognition, save for the 
 family resemblance. Some think her even more 
 
364 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 beautiful than Dio. She does not press eagerly 
 forward to speak to Max, as do the others. For 
 some reason, best known to herself, she remains 
 demure and silent in the corner of her pew till he 
 comes to greet her. But we will not criticise, 
 since he appears pleased and satisfied. Marvel 
 and Rolfe and the little girls will have to spare 
 Vinnie some day, but they need her yet awhile 
 longer. Lottie is but a slip of a girl, only par- 
 tially developed in body or mind, but Lottie has 
 found the Way. And Dean and Dio believe 
 her to be a little Christian. " Ma's way " has 
 a firm hold upon every one of the dear flock 
 she left behind, when the Lord called her from 
 earth. 
 
 Silence Parker, serene and sweet, and frank as 
 ever, has grown tall, and strong, and rosy. She 
 is now at the head of her grandfather's household, 
 for the good grandmother has gone before, and her 
 feeble, aged companion is only waiting for his 
 call to join her. Silence's father has married a 
 second wife, and made for himself a new home in 
 the Far West. Silence has been there once, on a 
 visit, but she begged to be allowed to return to 
 the dear old friends who needed her so much in 
 
LAST WORDS. 365 
 
 their declining years, and now John Lewis thinks 
 he has established a claim upon her that will keep 
 her permanently on Billow Prairie. 
 
 Carrie Williams is as good and almost as shy as 
 ever. She sticks closely to her mother's side as 
 yet. Whether any one will ever succeed in win- 
 ning her away is doubtful. 
 
 Horace and Marion Boyd are present, of 
 course, to listen to their brother. We wish we 
 had something better worth chronicling concern- 
 ing them than anything we yet know. Horace 
 is fond and proud of his sister, and he and their 
 mother supply her generously with money to 
 gratify the love for dress and display that are at 
 present her absorbing passion. The brother and 
 sister think it no task to ride ten miles to attend 
 a dance, and are amply repaid by the knowledge 
 that Marion is much admired in the circles she 
 most frequents. Horace and Marion are yet in 
 chrysalis. Whether their wings will ever grow 
 appears not yet. But we are sure that Max is 
 praying, and will not fail to speak words of warn- 
 ing and entreaty whenever a favorable opportu- 
 nity presents itself. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Bradford are present at the 
 
366 BILLOW PRAIRIE. 
 
 service. They come forward with smiling faces, 
 proud of the claim to old acquaintanceship. 
 
 Miss Felicia is not there. No one asks or 
 wonders why. Many speak of her, and say, 
 one to another, " I 'm glad they named the baby 
 Felicia. I thought they would ; " and many a 
 rising tear is brushed away as they say, "How 
 we do miss her! " 
 
 Dio has remained sitting in her place because 
 her baby is asleep upon her knees, and she 
 will not waken it, since she would gladly remain 
 to the close of the Sabbath school, which follows 
 the service with a short intermission. Therefore 
 Max, after speaking to others, comes to her for 
 greeting. As they shake hands he says in a low 
 voice, intended for her ear only, — 
 
 "I 'm glad you named her Felicia. I thought 
 you would." 
 
 And Dio replies, her eyes shining through tears, 
 " We do miss her so. Max ! It 's such a loss ! " 
 
 After the Sabbath school is over, when they 
 are walking homeward together. Max hears the 
 story of Miss Felicia's departure. For weeks and 
 months she had toiled and striven and prayed, 
 giving time, tact, influence, energy, and money 
 
LAST WORDS. 367 
 
 lavishly to make the church on Billow Prairie an 
 accomplished fact. At last the work was done, 
 and then came the dedication. She had been 
 wholly absorbed in the duties and services of the 
 day, working early and late to provide entertain- 
 ment for the ministers, several of whom stopped 
 at her father's house. Among these was one 
 James Bird, who thought he saw in this cheerful, 
 efficient, self-sacrificing woman exactly the person 
 he needed to cheer and help him in his distant, 
 difficult field, and to be a mother to five little 
 ones left motherless. So strong was this convic- 
 tion that he lingered in the vicinity, and made 
 his way back to the fireside of the Lewis family 
 again and again. His case was urgent, and he 
 was not backward or lukewarm in pressing it. 
 He was a fine, frank, genial man, highly esteemed 
 and much beloved by his brother ministers. 
 Even Miss Felicia's father, who would miss her 
 most, had not a word to say against the union. 
 John promised to supply her place in the home as 
 soon as Silence and her grandfather could be 
 induced to unite the two households, till which 
 time Lottie Windom could keep the domestic 
 machinery running in very fair order. 
 
368 BILLOW PBAIRIE. 
 
 What could Miss Felicia do but yield? The 
 courtship and preparation were both short. Some 
 weeks crowded full of cares and work, leave- 
 takings, good wishes, and expressions of warm 
 affection and regret, and then Miss Felicia was 
 no more on Billow Prairie. 
 
 All this is rehearsed to Max as they walk. 
 
 "He 's a lucky man! That 's all I have to 
 say," says Max when he has heard all. 
 
 " That he is ! " says John Faxon, who, with a 
 little girl in either hand is going to take dinner 
 with Marvel, who proudly carries his namesake 
 in his arms, while Emily walks at his side. 
 
 "I reckon them five little children needs her 
 more 'n we do," says Marvel. "An' she 's boun' 
 to go where she 's needed the most, if we do have 
 to be left to 'sconsolation." 
 
 "Dio says every one of those children are 
 boys," puts in Vinnie. 
 
 "So much the more they need to have a 
 mother," Marvel answers. " Girls can get along a 
 heap better 'n boys 'thout no mother." 
 
 "I don't know about that," says Vinnie. 
 "Dio and I would n't have amounted to much 
 but for Miss Felicia. " 
 
LAST WORDS. 369 
 
 "She has been a dear, good mother to us all," 
 says Dean. "We owe more to her than we can 
 ever repay." 
 
 "Reckon I know what Miss F'licia would say 
 to that! She 'd say, pay it to anybody that needs 
 it, whenever ye kin, and wherever ye kin," Mar- 
 vel replies. 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY