Ninety-seventh Day.
72 West Main Street,
Battle Creek, Michigan,
August Sixteenth.
Called at Captain Loud's law office at Albion in the morning, and had a delightful chat over old times, our topic an inexhaustible one—the battles and incidents of the late war. As this town was only a short distance away, I was tempted to prolong the chat into a visit, finding the Captain a cordial comrade.
According to previous agreement I lectured in the evening at Wayne Hall, Marshall, having an introduction by Colonel Charles W. Dickie.
My horse was now in Michigan City, being treated for the sore on his back by an old comrade, who since the war had attained quite a reputation as a veterinary surgeon. The delay was somewhat annoying as I anticipated trouble in crossing the Rockies, if I did not reach them before the season was too far advanced; but there was a possibility of disabling the animal if his affliction were neglected, and my sympathies were with him. As the delay could not be avoided I availed myself of the "Iron Horse" and on it made brief tours to the neighboring towns.
At this time it was very easy to agree with the theory of the fatalist that "whatever is, is right," for by an accident I was enabled to meet more agreeable people, to enjoy their hospitality, and to see more, which was my chief purpose in crossing the continent.
A philosopher never worries about little hindrances, for he soon learns that a delay often proves to be an advantage. Such was my case.
