When he left me, he gave me a bright half dollar, for spending money.
Now would you give anything, my little friend, to know how I spent it?
If you had known me in those days, you could have easily guessed, even
if not much of a Yankee. I bought a book with it, of course. I
thought I could not purchase anything to be compared with that in
value. Since then I have learned there are other things in the world
besides books, although I must own that I still cling to not a little
of my old friendship for them. How long seemed the few days I was
absent from my father's house. I had seen a great deal of the world, I
thought, during that time. There seemed to be an illusion about it--a
feeling as if I had been from home for weeks; and when I returned, and
found some of the good things upon the table which were baked before I
left home, I thought they must be very old--very old indeed.

"I should like to know how long you think you have been gone," said
some member of the family.

Sure enough! How long had I been away? Not quite a week. But you need
not smile, for that week _was_ a long one. We do not always measure
time by minutes and hours. That is not the only week of my life that
has appeared long. I have seen other weeks that seemed as long as some
months. We sometimes live very fast, and at other times, more slowly.

But this is not _the_ journey I am going to tell you about. I was
young then, and a little green, no doubt; but before I left home
again, I had got rid of my ignorance on some points. Miss Tompkins, a
maiden lady, who sometimes came to our house to sew, and who laid
claim to more personal experience in such matters than myself, had
received from some one a chapter of instructions about traveling--a