Theykepttogetherontheroadalongtheturnpike，andupthewindingroadbytheriver，whichtheyfollowedforsomemiles。
Theriverwasverylovely，curvingdownalongitssandybeds，pausingnowandthenunderbroadbasswoodtrees，orrunningindark，swift，silentcurrentsundertanglesofwildgrapevines，anddroopingalders，andhawtrees。Atoneoftheselovelyspotsthethreevetssatdownonthethickgreenswardtorest，“onSmith’saccount。“TheleavesofthetreeswereasfreshandgreenasinJune，thejayscalledcheerygreetingstothem，andkingflshersdartedtoandfro，withswooping，noiselessflight。
“Itellyeh，boys，thisknockstheswampsofLoueesianaintokingdomcome。“
“Youbet。Alltheyc’nraisedownthereissnakes，niggers，andp’rticlerhell。“
“An’fightin’men，“putintheolderman。
“An’fightin’men。IfIhadagoodhookan’lineI’dsneakapick’relouto’thatpond。Say，rememberthattimeIshotthatalligator-“
“Iguesswe’dbetterbecrawlin’along，“interruptedSmith，risingandshoulderinghisknapsack，withconsiderableeffort，whichhetriedtohide。
“Say，Smith，lemmegiveyoualiftonthat。“
“IguessIc’nmanage，“saidSmithgrimly。
“’Course。But，yehsee，Imaynothaveachancerightofftopayyehbackforthetimesye’vecarriedmygunandhullcaboodie。Say，now，girnethatgun，any-way。“
“Allright，ifyehfeellikeit，Jim，“Smithreplied，andtheytrudgedalongdoggedlyinthesun，whichwasgettinghigherandhottereachhalfmile。
“Ain’titqueerthereain’tnoteamscornin’along。“
“Well，no，seem’sit’sSunday。“
“Byjinks，that’safact!ItisSunday。I’llgithomeintimefrdinner，sure。Shedon’thevdinnerusuallytill-aboutoneonSundays。“Andhefellintoamuse，inwhichhesmiled。
“Well，I’llgithomejestaboutsixo’clock，jestaboutwhentheboysaremilkin’thecows，“saidoldJimCranby。“I’llstepintothebarnan’thenI’llsay，’Heah!whyain’tthismilkin’donebeforethistimeo’day？An’thenwon’ttheyyell!“headded，slappinghisthighingreatglee。
Smithwenton。“I’lljestgoupthepath。OldRover’llcomedowntheroadtomeetme。Hewon’tbark；he’llknowme，an’he’llcomedownwaggin’histailan’shonin’histeeth。That’shiswayoflaughin’。An’soI’llwalkuptothekitchendoor，an’I’llsay’Dinnerf’rahungryman!’An’thenshe’lljumpup，an’-“
Hecouldn’tgoon。Hisvoicechokedatthethoughtofit。Saunders，thethirdman，hardlyutteredaword。Hewalkedsilentlybehindtheothers。Hehadlosthiswifethefirstyearhewasinthearmy。Shediedofpneumoniacaughtintheautumnrains，whileworkinginthefieldsinhisplace。
Theyploddedalongtillatlasttheycametoapartingoftheways。
Totherighttheroadcontinuedupthemainvalley；totheleftitwentovertheridge。
“Well，boys，“beganSmithastheygroundedtheirmusketsandlookedawayupthevalley，“here’swhereweshakehands。We’vemarchedtogetheragoodmanymiles，an’nowIs’posewe’redone。“
“Yes，Idon’tthinkwe’lldoanymoreofitf’rawhile。Idon’twantto，Iknow。“
“IhopeI’llseeyehonceinawhile，boys，totaikoveroldtimes。“
“Ofcourse，“saidSaunders，whosevoicetrembledalittle，too。“Itain’texactlylikedyin’。“
“Butwe’dought’rgohomewithyou，“saidtheyoungerman。“Younever’llclimbthatridgewithallthemthingsonyerback。“
“Oh，I’mallright!Don’tworryaboutme。Everysteptakesmenearerhome，yehsee。Well，goodbye，boys。“
Theyshookhands。“Goodbye。Goodluck!“
“Sametoyou。Lemmeknowhowyoufindthingsathome。“
Heturnedoncebeforetheypassedoutofsightandwavedhiscap，andtheydidthesame，andallyelled。Thenallmarchedawaywiththeirlong，steady，loping，veteranstep。Thesolitaryclimberinbluewalkedonforatime，withhismindfilledwiththekindnessofhiscomrades，andmusinguponthemanyjollydaystheyhadhadtogetherincampandfield。
Hethoughtofhischum，BillyTripp。PoorBilly!A“mime“ballfellintohisbreastoneday，fellwailinglikeacat，andtoreagreatraggedholeinhisheart。HelookedforwardtoasadscenewithBilly’smotherandsweet-heart。Theywouldwanttoknowallaboutit。HetriedtorecallallthatBillyhadsaid，andtheparticularsofit，buttherewaslittletoremember，justthatwildwailingsoundhighintheair，adullslap，ashort，quick，expulsivegroan，andtheboylaywithhisfaceinthedirtintheplowedfieldtheyweremarchingacross。
Thatwasall。Butallthesceneshehadsincebeenthroughhadnotdimmedthehorror，theterrorofthatmoment，whenhisboycomradefell，withonlyabreathbetweenalaughandadeathgroan。PoorhandsomeBilly!Worthmillionsofdollarswashisyoungwife。
Thesesomberrecollectionsgavewayatlengthtomorecheerfulfeelingsashebegantoapproachhishomecoulee。Thefieldsandhousesgrewfamiliar，andinoneortwohewasgreetedbypeopleseatedinthedoorway。Buthewasinnomoodtotalk，andpushedonsteadily，thoughhestoppedandacceptedadrinkofmilkonceatthewell-sideofaneighbor。
Thesunwasgettinghotonthatslope，andhisstepgrewslower，inspiteofhisironresolution。Hesatdownseveraltimestorest。
Slowlyhecrawleduptherough，reddish-brownroad，whichwoundalongthehillside，undergreattrees，throughdensegrovesofjackoaks，withtreetops’farbelowhimonhislefthand，andthehillsfarabovehimonhisright。Hecrawledalonglikesomeminutewinglessvarietyoffly。
Heatesomehardtack，saucedwithwildberries，whenhereachedthesummitoftheridge，andsatthereforsometime，lookingdownintohishomecoulee。
Somber，patheticfigure!Hiswide，round，grayeyesgazingdownintothebeautifulvalley，seeingandnotseeing，thesplendidcloud-shadowssweepingoverthewesternhillsandacrossthegreenandyellowwheatfarbelow。Hisheaddroopedforwardonhispalm，hisshoulderstookonatiredstoop，hischeekbonesshowedpainfully。Anobservermighthavesaid，“Heislookingdownuponhisowngrave。“
SundaycomesinaWesternwheatharvestwithsuchsweetandsuddenrelaxationtomanandbeastthatitwouldbeholyforthatreason，iffornoother。AndSundaysareusuallyfairinharvesttime。Asonegoesoutintothefieldinthehotmorningsunshine，withnosoundabroadsavethecricketsandtheindescribablypleasant，silkenrustlingoftheripenedgrain，thereaperandtheverysheavesinthestubbleseemtoberesting，dreaming。
Aroundthehouse，intheshadeofthetrees，themensit，smoking，dozing，orreadingthepapers，whilethewomen，neverresting，moveaboutatthehousework。ThemeneatonSundaysaboutthesameasonotherdays；andbreakfastisnosooneroverandoutofthewaythandinnerbegins。
ButattheSmithfarmtherewerenomendozingorreading。Mrs。
Smithwasalonewithherthreechildren，Mary，nine，Tommy，six，andlittieTed，justpastfour。Herfarm，rentedtoaneighbor，layattheheadofacouleeornarrowgalley，madeatsomefar-offpostglacialperiodbythevastandangryfloodsofwaterwhichgulliedthesetrememdousfurrowsinthelevelprairie-furrowssodeepthatundisturbedportionsoftheoriginallevelroselikehillsoneithersid~rosetoquiteconsiderablemountains。
ThechickenswakenedherasusualthatSabbathmorningfromdreamsofherabsenthusband，fromwhomshehadnotheardforweeks。Theshadowsdriftedoverthehills，downtheslopes，acrossthewheat，anduptheoppositewallinleisurelyway，asif，beingSunday，theycould“takeiteasy，“also。Thefowlsclusteredaboutthehousewifeasshewentoutintotheyard。Fuzzylittlechickensswarmedoutfromthecoopswheretheircluckingandperpetuallydisgruntledmotherstrampedabout，petulantlythrustingtheirheadsthroughthespacesbetweentheslats。
Acowcalledinadeep，musicalbass，andacallansweredfromalittlepennearby，andapigscurriedguiltilyoutofthecabbages。
Seeingallthis，seeingthepiginthecabbages，thetangleofgrassinthegarden，thebrokenfencewhichshehadmendedagainandagain-thelittlewoman，hardlymorethanagirl，satdownandcried。ThebrightSabbathmorningwasonlyamockerywithouthim!
Afewyearsagotheyhadboughtthisfarm，payingpart，mortgagingtherestintheusualway。EdwardSmithwasamanofterribleenergy。Heworked“nightsandSundays，“asthesayinggoes，toclearthefarmofitsbrushandofitsinsatiatemortgage。InthemidstofhisHerculeanstrugglecamethecallforvolunteers，andwiththegrirnandunselfishdevotiontohiscountrywhichmadetheEagleBrigadeableto“whipitsweightinwildcats，“hethrewdownhisscytheandhisgrubax，turnedhiscattleloose，andbecameablue-coatedcoginavastmachineforkillingmen，andnotthistles。WhilethemillionnairesenthismoneytoEnglandforsafekeeping，thisman，withhisgirl-wifeandthreebabies，leftthemonamortgagedfarmandwentawaytofightforanidea。Itwasfoolish，butitwassublimeforallthat。
Thatwasthreeyearsbefore，andtheyoungwife，sittingonthewellcurbonthisbrightSabbathharvestmorning，wasrighteouslyrebellious。Itseemedtoherthatshehadbornehershareofthecountry’ssorrow。Twobrothershadbeenkilled，therenterinwhosehandsherhusbandhadleftthefarmhadprovedavillain，oneyearthefarmwaswithoutcrops，andnowtheoverripegrainwaswaitingthetardyhandoftheneighborwhohadrentedit，andwhowascuttinghisowngrainfirst。
Aboutsixweeksbefore，shehadreceivedalettersaying，“We’llbedischargedinalittlewhile。“Butnootherwordhadcomefromhim。Shehadseenbythepapersthathisarmywasbeingdischarged，andfromdaytodayothersoldiersslowlypercolatedinbluestreamsbackintothestateandcounty，butstillherprivatedidnotreturn。
Eachweekshehadtoldthechildrenthathewascoming’andshehadwatchedtheroadsolongthatithadbecomeunconscious，andasshestoodatthewell，orbythekitchendoor，hereyeswerefixedunthinkinglyontheroadthatwounddownthecoulee。Nothingwearsonthehumansoullikewaiting。Ifthestrandedmariner，’searchingthesun-brightseas，couldoncegiveuphopeofaship，thathorriblegrindingonhisbrainwouldcease。Itwasthiswaiting，hoping，ontheedgeofdespair，thatgaveEmmaSmithnorest。
Neighborssaid，withkindintentions，“He’ssick，maybe，an’can’tstartNorthjustyet。He’llcomealongoneo’thesedays。“
“Whydon’thewrite？“washerquestion，whichsilencedthemall。
ThisSundaymorningitseemedtoherasifshecouldn’tstanditanylonger。Thehouseseemedintolerablylonely。Soshedressedthelittleonesintheirbestcalicodressesandhomemadejackets，andclosingupthehouse，setoffdownthecouleetooldMotherGray’s。
“OldWidderGray“livedatthe“mouthofthecoulee。“Shewasawidowwomanwithalargefamilyofstalwartboysandlaughinggirls。Shewasthevisibleincarnationofhospitalityandoptimisticpoverty。WithWesternopen-heartednessshefedeverymouththataskedfoodofher，andworkedherselftodeathascheerfullyashergirlsdancedintheneighborhoodharvestdances。
ShewaddleddownthepathtomeetMrs。Smithwithasmileonherfacethatwouldhavemadethecountenanceofaconvictexpand。
“Oh，youlittledears!Comerighttoyergranny。Gimmeakiss!
Comerightin，Mis’Smith。Howareyeh，anyway？Nicemornin’，ain’tit？Comeinan’setdown。Every-thing’sinaclutter，butthatwon’tscareyouany。“
Sheledthewayintothe“bestroom，“asunny，squareroom，carpetedwithafadedandpatchedragcarpet，andpaperedwithahorriblewhite-and-green-stripedwallpaper，whereafewghastlyeffigiesofdeadmembersofthefamilyhunginvariouslysizedovalwalnutframes。Thehouseresoundedwithsinging，laughter，whistling，trampingofboots，andscufflings。Half-grownboyscametothedoorandcrookedtheirfingersatthechildren，whoranout，andweresoonheardinthemidstofthefun。
“Don’ts’poseyou’veheardfromEd？“Mrs。Smithshookherhead。
“He’llturnupsomeday，whenyouain’tlook-in’for’m。“ThegoodoldsoulhadsaidthatsomanytimesthatpoorMrs。Smithderivednocomfortfromitanylonger。
“LizheardfromAltheotherday。He’scomin’some，daythisweek。
Anyhow，theyexpecthim。“
“Didhesayanythingof-“
“No，hedidn’t，“Mrs。Grayadmitted。“Butthenitwasonlyashortletter，anyhow。Alain’tmuchforritin’，anyhow。Butcomeoutandseemynewcheese。Itellyeh，Idon’tbelieveIeverhadhetterluckinmylife。IfEdshouldcome，Iwantyoushouldtakehimupapieceofthischeese。“
Itwasbeyondhumannaturetoresisttheinfluenceofthatnoisy，hearty，lovinghousehold，andinthemidstofthesingingandlaughingthewifeforgotheranxiety，forthetimeatleast，andlaughedandsangwiththerest。
Abouteleveno’clockawagonloadmoredroveuptothedoor，andBillGray，thewidow’soldestson，andhiswholefamilyfromSandLakeCouleepiledoutamidagood-natureduproar，ascharacteristicasitwasludicrous。Everyonetalked。atonce，exceptBill，whosatinthewagonwithhiswristsonhisknees，astrawinhismouth，andanamusedtwinkleinhisblueeyes。
“Ain’theardnothin’o’Ed，Is’pose？“heaskedinakindofbellow。
Mrs。Smithshookherhead。Bill，withadelicacyverystrikinginsuchagreatgiant，rolledhisquidinhismouthandsaid：
“Didn’tknowbutyouhad。IheartwoorthreeoftheSandLakeboysarecomm’。LeftNewOrleenessometimethisweek。Didn’twritenothin’aboutEd，butnonewsisgoodnewsinsuchcases，Motheralwayssays。“
“Well，goputoutyerteam，“saidMrs。Gray，“an’go’nbringmeinsometaters，an’，Sim，yougoseeifyouc’nfindsomecorn。Sadie，youputonthewatertob’ile。Comenow，hustleyerboots。，allo’
yeh。IfIfeedthisyercrowd，we’vegottohavesomerawmaterials。
Ify’think。I’mgoin’tofeedyehonpie-“
Thechildrenwentoffintothefields，thegirlsputdinneronto“b’ile，“andthenwenttochangetheirdressesandfixtheirhair。
“Somebodymightcome，“theysaid。