THE CLERGYMAN'S STORY.
"THANK you, madam," said the clergyman, bowing. "I am sure we are very much obliged to you for your charming story. I am inclined to think that your aunt must have belonged to a talented family."
This sly little compliment brought a slight blush to the cheek of the old lady and a smile to the faces of the rest of the company.
"I do love to hear stories about the times when the country was new," remarked Frank. "I should have liked to live in those days."
"I suspect they are pleasanter in the hearing than they were in the actual experience," remarked the scholar. "As Agatha says, it is generally more agreeable to read about adventures than to be in them. But if you like a new country, Frank, you should go West."
"That is exactly what I mean to do," replied Frank.
"You can hardly go to any western country which is as new as this State was when the first settlers came here," said the clergyman.
"That is true," assented the squire. "You see, the people out West have the advantage of all our improvements of every sort. When the Genesee country was first settled, for instance, it was a three weeks' journey from Rochester to Albany, in the best of weather, for a team of horses, and that was the only way of transporting goods or produce. There was no nearer market except that of Canada, which was closed during the winter. Even after the making of the Erie canal, which was an unspeakable advantage to all that part of the country, it was a very slow business getting goods up and produce down. Now the people in Iowa can bring their grain and cattle down to New York in less than two weeks, and the merchants get their goods up in a few days by express. All that makes a great difference."
"Still," said Frank, "there must be a vast difference between life there and here."
"Of course, and I do not at all wonder at young men for liking to go West. There are many pleasant things about it, not the least of which is the delight of seeing all things round you improving, and making every stroke of work tell, as I may say, instead of being obliged to labor with all your might to keep matters from going to ruin. It is amazing to see how a new country gets on. That very swamp through which the wolves chased Carry and me that Christmas eve is now as fine a piece of farming land as you would wish to see. The old oak in which we sat so long, has a nice schoolhouse beside it, with little children playing under the branches instead of hungry, howling wolves."