hearthstone and sent its red forks dancing up the chimney to join the
winds that frolicked and gambolled across the Kansas prairies that raw
November night. It had rained hard all day, and was cold; and although the
open fire made every honest effort to be cheerful, Ezra, as he sat in
front of it in the wooden rocker and looked down into the glowing embers,
experienced a dreadful feeling of loneliness and homesickness.

"I'm sick o' Kansas," said Ezra to himself. "Here I 've been in this
plaguy country for goin' on a year, and--yes, I'm sick of it, powerful
sick of it. What a miser'ble Thanksgivin' this has been! They don't know
what Thanksgivin' is out this way. I wish I was back in ol'
Mass'chusetts--that's the country for _me_, and they hev the kind o'
Thanksgivin' I like!"

Musing in this strain, while the rain went patter-patter on the
window-panes, Ezra saw a strange sight in the fireplace,--yes, right among
the embers and the crackling flames Ezra saw a strange, beautiful picture
unfold and spread itself out like a panorama.

"How very wonderful!" murmured the young man. Yet he did not take his eyes
away, for the picture soothed him and he loved to look upon it.

"It is a pictur' of long ago," said Ezra, softly. "I had like to forgot
it, but now it comes back to me as nat'ral-like as an ol' friend. An' I
seem to be a part of it, an' the feelin' of that time comes back with the
pictur', too."

Ezra did not stir. His head rested upon his hand, and his eyes were fixed
upon the shadows in the firelight.