Peak and Prairie | Page 8

wide fields, and a handful of cottonwood
trees clustered about the house, the tears fairly started to the little
woman's eyes, so much did this bit of rural landscape remind her of her
own far-away New England. And when the master of the house led the

way into a neat little room, with a south window looking across the
plains, it came his turn for confidences.
"This room was built on for my mother," he said.
"Did she live here with you?"
"No; she died before she could get here."
"Oh dear!" said his little visitor.
The two small words were eloquent with sympathy.
That was a red-letter day for Mrs. Nancy Tarbell. She felt as though she
were getting a glimpse of the great West for the first time in all these
years. When her host casually informed her that he owned about seven
square miles of land and two hundred head of cattle, she gave a little
gasp of amazement.
[Illustration: "A HANDFUL OF COTTONWOOD TREES
CLUSTERED ABOUT THE HOUSE."]
"I always wanted to see a cattle ranch," she said.
"Oh, this is no cattle ranch. It's only a dairy." And he took her about
through the many sheds and barns, which were hidden in a hollow a
few rods away. Here he showed her his ice-houses, his huge churns,
and his mammoth "separator" that went whirling around, dividing the
cream from hundreds of gallons of milk in the time it would have taken
her to skim a couple of three-pint pans.
"Sakes alive!" she exclaimed again and again, as these wonders were
explained to her--"sakes alive! what would our folks say to that?"
"You'll have a great deal to tell them when you go back," said Warren,
studying her animated face.
"If I ever go," she said, with a little sigh.

This was after dinner, which had been a savory meal served by a man
cook.
"Do you want very much to go?"
"Oh yes! I shall go just as soon as ever Atchison begins to pay again. I
hope I haven't any false pride," she added, deprecatingly, "but I can live
cheaper here than I should be willing to there, where I've seen better
days."
Brave little Mrs. Nancy! It was not indeed false pride that deterred her,
but the fear of being a burden to others.
They were sitting in the big living-room, which on this great occasion
had been made as neat as her own little parlor. Antlers and other
strange trophies ornamented the walls, where also guns and spurs and
lassos hung. The little woman did not seem in the least out of place
among these warlike objects. She sat in an old leathern chair, her feet
on a coyote-skin, looking about her with quick bright motions that
made the big fellow think of the shy field creatures that sometimes
strayed over his threshold--ground squirrels, rabbits, and the like.
David lay curled up close beside her, and half a dozen less-favored
dogs looked wistfully in from time to time. Warren was wondering
whether she could possibly fit in naturally to the stiff, scant New
England life which he had fled away from when a boy. Presently he
said:
"Have you any idea how much your house and land are worth?"
"Oh yes! We paid ten hundred and fifty dollars for it when the house
was new, but it's a good deal out of repair now."
"But you know real estate is pretty high here just now."
Struck by the peculiar emphasis with which he spoke, Mrs. Nancy gave
him a startled look. "Why--why--what do you mean?"
"Well, I was talking with a real-estate man about the value of land the

other day, and he said you could realize six thousand dollars on your
place any day."
"Six--thousand--dollars?"
"Yes, six thousand dollars."
"Why, that's just what we had in Atchison!"
"Well, I guess there's no question but that you could get that for your
land to-morrow."
It had indeed been an eventful day, and it was followed by a sleepless
night. For years little Mrs. Nancy had had one great wish, and suddenly
it was to be fulfilled. She could go home--home to New England, to the
village where she was born, to the village where everybody knew her,
where they would talk of Willie. Through the hours of the night, which
sped fast, she thought and thought of the home-coming. She passed in
review all her old neighbors, forgetting for the moment how many
would be found missing; she wandered in spirit through the familiar
pastures, beneath the green trees, beside the pond at the foot of the hill.
Suddenly a strange suggestion intruded itself upon her thoughts. Must
it not be "kind o' damp" with all that swamp land so near by, and the
great