is known to be lurking in the neighborhood of our peaceful little
village."

"Pray let us change the subject," I entreated, "or between convicts and
Modocs I shall have the nightmare for a month."


_June 9_.

We have just said good-by to Señor Delmonte, of Hayti, who has gone
down on the 4.45 train, after passing, I hope, a pleasant day with us.

[Illustration: The Train Station.]

We have led such a quiet life since last fall, that a visit from a
friend is a very pleasant excitement, and with the assistance of our
invaluable Minna and Lina, there is nothing to be dreaded in the
preparations. Then, too, it is so pleasant to unpack the superb linen
that Aunt Mary bought abroad--the heavy damask table-cloths with their
beautiful designs, and the immense dinner napkins, protecting one's
dress so admirably against possible accident--and to take out the
exquisite silver and Sèvres; everything is perfection, even to the
little gold, lily-shaped hand-bell. Afterwards we go to gather flowers
in all their morning freshness, and if it is ten o'clock, we walk down
to the station to meet the New York train.

Señor Delmonte is a very agreeable gentleman, and quite a favorite in
New York circles. In figure he rises far above ordinary humanity, six
feet two inches being, I believe, his exact height--and his very dark
complexion and stately gravity render him quite conspicuous in a