XI

ZEBBIE'S STORY


_September 1, 1910._

DEAR MRS. CONEY,--

It was just a few days after the birthday party and Mrs. O'Shaughnessy
was with me again. We were down at the barn looking at some new pigs,
when we heard the big corral gates swing shut, so we hastened out to
see who it could be so late in the day.

It was Zebbie. He had come on the stage to Burnt Fork and the driver
had brought him on here.... There was so much to tell, and he whispered
he had something to tell me privately, but that he was too tired then;
so after supper I hustled him off to bed....

Next morning ... the men went off to their work and Zebbie and I were
left to tell secrets. When he was sure we were alone he took from his
trunk a long, flat box. Inside was the most wonderful shirt I have
ever seen; it looked like a cross between a nightshirt and a
shirt-waist. It was of homespun linen. The bosom was ruffled and
tucked, all done by hand,--such tiny stitches, such patience and skill.
Then he handed me an old daguerreotype. I unfastened the little golden
hook and inside was a face good to see and to remember. It was dim, yet