Connecticut western news., 1889-08-14
VOL. XIX.

train took her into strange landscapes where the miles went so swiftly it seemed like the past years of her life as she looked back on them.
 ''Thy works is marvellous" she murmured often, sitting with her hands folded, and few idle days had there been in her world where she had sat and rested so long.
 In the day coach the people were kind and generous, sharing their bas- kets with her and seeing she changed cars right and her carpet-bag was safe. She was like any of the dear old grand mas in Eastern homes, or to grizzled men and weary women, like the mem- ory of dead mother as faint and far away as the scent of wild roses in a hillside burying aground. She tended babies for tired women and talked to the men of farming and crops, or told the children bible stories; but never a word she said of herself, not one.
 On again, guided by kindly hands through the great bewildering city by the great lake, and now through yet stranger land. Tired and worn by nights in the uncomfortable seats, her brave spirit began to fail little. As the wide, level plains, lonely and drear, dawned on her sight, she sigh ed often.
 ''It's dre'ful big wurld," she said to gray-bearded old farmer near her; ''so big I feel e'enmost lost in it, but" hopefully, "across them deserts like this long ago Providence sent star to guide them wise men of the East, an l hain't lost my faith"
 But as the day wore on, and still the long, monotonous land showed no hu- man habitation, no oasis of green, her eyes dimmed, something like 8 sob rose under the black kerchief on the bowed shoulders, and the spectacles were taken off with trembling hand and put away in the worn tin case.
 s'Be ye goin' fur, mother?" said the old farmer.
 He had brought her cup of coffee at the last station, and had pointed out on the way things he thought might interest her.
 "To Denver"
 "Wal, wal; you're from New Eng land, I'll be bound?'
 s:From Maine," she answered; then she grew communicative, for she was always chatty old lady, and she had possessed her soul in silence so long, and it was relief to tell the story of her weary years of waiting to a kindly listener.
 She told him all the relations she had were two grand-nephews and their families. That twenty years ago Sam (for she Ina brought them both up when their parents died of consumption, that takes so many of our folks) went out West. He was always adventurous, and for ten years she did not hear from him; but John was different and steady, and when he came of age she had given him her farm, with the pro- vision she should always have home, otherwise he would have gone away too. We'll, for five years they were happy, theu John married, and his wife had grown to think her burden as the years went oh, and the children when they grew big did not care for her, she felt she had lived too long.
 ''I growed so lonesome," she said pathetically, Git seems couldn't take up heart to live day by day, an yit I knowed our folks was longed lived. Ten years back, when Sam wrote he wasa doin' fair an sent me money, begun to think of him; fur he Mas allus generous am kind, am the grate- fullest boy, an so begun to save to go to him, fur I knowed I could work my board fur good meny years to come. Fur three years he ain't hard ly wrote, but I laid that to the wild kentry he lived in. I said bars an Injuns don't skeer me none, fur when l was gal up an Aroostuk kentry there was plenty of both, an as fur builders them horned cattle don't skeer me none, fur Eve been used to farm allus. But the lonesumness of these medders has sorter upsot me an made me think every day Sam was further off than l ever calc lated on.'
 "But what will you do if Sam ain'1 in Denver?" asked the farmer.
 ''I hev put my faith in Providence, , she answered simply, and the strang' CT could not mar that trust by any word of warning.
 He gave her his address as he go
 off at the Nebraska line, and told hel to send him word if she needed help
 With a warm hand-clasp he parted iron
 her to join the phantoms in her memory of ''folks thet he'd bin kind to her God bless em'," and then the trail
 went rumbling on.
 But many of the passengers Ina, listened to her story and were inter , ested, and they came to sit with her. One pale little lad in the seat ii