It is two years now, since Race and I were married; and I believe no one ever had a better husband! We live on the old homestead—it is one of the pleasantest places in Preston—the mortgage is all paid off, and we are as comfortable as any family need be. Mrs. Miller is as fond of me as if I was her own born daughter, and everybody thinks our little Phebe is almost too sweet to live—she is the picture of Race; but I think her curly hair and saucy blue eyes make her the handsomest baby I ever saw.
Widow Burt and Jim have come away from the Hollow; last year Race put up a new barn, and moved the old one down to the end of the lane—our boys helped him fix it up for a house, and Mrs. Burt and Jim live in it. They make baskets yet, and we find them very useful when we want extra help. Mrs. Burt is stronger than before she was sick; and poor Jim almost worships Race, and would run errands all day, if we asked him to—he thinks there is nothing like our baby on the face of the earth; and simple as he looks, she is always ready to go to him.
Race wouldn't tell me till after we were married, how he came to be hiding in the bushes on the day of the picnic; he always said I must guess—so you may guess too!
After all, I have reason to bless the day I went up Spring Mountain!
ENDURANCE.
At first did I almost despair,
And thought I never it could bear—
And yet I have it borne till now:
But only never ask me how!