Wall, Ralph come. His sister and girl jest worshipped him, and looked
and longed for his comin', as only tender-hearted wimmen can love
and worship a hero. For if there wuz ever a hero it wuz Ralph Smith
Robinson.

Wall, Ralph had been in the unbroken silences of nature so long, that
the clack, and crash, and clamor of what we call civilized life almost
crazed him.

He had been where his Maker almost seemed to come down and walk with
him through the sweet, unbroken stillnesses of mornin' and evenin'. The
world seemed so fur off to him, and the Eternal Verities of life so
near, that truly, it sometimes seemed to him as if, like one of old, "he
walked with God." Of course the savages war-whooped some, but they
wuz still a good deal of the time, which is more than you can say for
Yankees.

And Loontown when he got home was rent to its very twain with a
Presidential election.

Ralph suffered.

But above all his other sufferin's, he suffered from church bells.

Miss Timson lived, as it wuz her wish, and often her boast, right under
the droppin's of the sanctuary.

She lotted on it when she bought the place. The Baptist steeple towered
up right by the side of her house. Her spare bed wuz immegietly under
the steeple.