"Often I wish for wings, and always when I think of those who are dear
to me and so far away. You said you would come out next spring to look
about. Please don't disappoint us. I think it would almost break my
heart. I am counting the days. Some time ago I put down 142 straight
marks on my old slate, that being the number of days before May 1. Every
night I rub off one of them and thank God that you are one day nearer.
Don't be afraid of fever and ague. Sapington's pills cure it in three or
four days. I would take the steamboat at Pittsburg, the roads in Ohio and
Indiana are so bad. You can get a steamer up the Illinois River at Alton
and get off at Beardstown and drive across country. If we knew when you
were coming Samson or Abe would meet you. Give our love to all the folks
and friends.

"Yours affectionately,

"Sarah and Samson."

* * * * *

It had been a cold winter and not easy to keep comfortable in the little
house. In the worst weather Samson used to get up at night to keep the
fire going. Late in January a wind from the southeast melted the snow and
warmed the air of the midlands so that, for a week or so, it seemed as if
spring were come. One night of this week Sambo awoke the family with his
barking. A strong wind was rushing across the plains and roaring over the
cabin and wailing in its chimney. Suddenly there was a rap on its door.
When Samson opened it he saw in the moonlight a young colored man and
woman standing near the door-step.

"Is dis Mistah Traylor?" the young man asked.