The times. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1890-1903, 1895-11-24

| fichlenees how without firmness Of inten-
| ton and fixity OF aim she could accom-
plish nothing.
ITO succeed. dear daughter" he con-
cluded, lone must fix ones eye upon a
| distant goal and pursu ones course I'M
swervingly. The river could not reach
| the sea. were II to wander or and divide
| into little streamS. II woGld lose it's
| power and become absorbed in sands.
| Try to be steadfast and unchanging."
Cam. with not a few tears. promised
amendment, and, being a good-hearted
girl. did make an effort to correct her
faults.
| But think even her wish to please her
| father would not have produced radical
| change, had 1t not been for something
| which befell her not long after.
1t was a warm evening in the middle
OF August and Cam came dancing into
the sittng-room holding aloft two letters:
Two letters, mamma, and two invita-
tions-one from Aunt Carrie and one
from Aunt Kate. They both want me
TO come and spend the rest OF the vaca-
ton with them. Now. which shall l ac-
| cept?"
well, my dear, you must decide that
for yourself" said Mrs. Hunter. after
! reading the letters Cam eagerly thrust
into her hand Both aunts seem equally
anxious to have you, and you will have
| pleasant visit at either place. But you
must make up your mind at once; for IL
you go to Brooklyn. you viii need a lit
tie better outfit than 10 go to Aunt Car
rie's."
Cam sat quite soberly, her chin I'm her
hands. for about quarter of an hour.
and then said decidedly: Mamma, | will
| go to Aunt Rates. IL will be so much
Dol no
and we will have great fun. And Aunt
| Kate writes we will go 10 Coney Island
| and up to West Point. perhaps. Yes.
| I will write to Aunt Kate at once. and
| also to Aunt Carrie, and thank her for
| her invitation"
The next week was a busy one of pre-
| paration. Toward the close of IL the
| weather became extremely warm. At the
| end Of a hot afternoon Cam threw her
| sewing on the floor and, clasping her
| hands around her knees, exclaimed;
Mamma. l am just thinking how cool
| It must be on the river back of Aunt
Carries this evening. ard 1 just imagined
myself down in the springhouse drinking
milk and cream"
She paused a little, and then went on:
81 wonder what color the new horse is?
Aunt Carrie wrote that it was SO gentle
and such a nice riding horse. | don't
want to go to any hot old city. I believe
/ viii write to Aunt Kate that / have
changed my mind and ask Aunt Carrie
TO meet me on Saturday"
But, Cam" said her mother, there
will not be time To-day is Wednesday"
"Oh. yes, there will, IL I write right
away They Will get the letter to-mor-
row. They go for the mail every day.
o mamma. please let me. l do so want
to see Aunt Carriel"
II thought you wanted TO see Aunt Kate
and Rob" said her mother. Cam. / am
quite vexed with you. What will Aunt
Kate think of your sudden change OF
PLAN"
"Oh, mamma. | will fix that all right.
] am going TO write her just the sweetest
letter. And | know | shall be sick If l
go To Brooklyn. l have had a headache
all day"
When ii came TO a question of health.
Cam always knew her mother would
yield. She had had a severe illness the
summer before, and Mrs. Hunter was
nervous at the very thought Of such a
danger threatening her.
SO. OF course. Cam had her way. The
two letters were written, and Saturday
found her waving a gay goodbye to her
father from the car-window.
farm, but the place was inaccessible, be-
ing ten miles from the railroad-which
fact. however. gave II rather an adyan-
tage in Cams estimation, as she was de-
voted TO driving, and never found the
ride too long.
She was the only passenger for G.,
and. after herself and trunk had been
deposited on the little wooden platform
she looked around with the sure antici-
patton Of seeing Aunt Carries pleasant
face or hearing Uncle Ben's hearty greet
ing But there was no one visible. and
no vehicle but spring wagon filled with
bags Of grain and drawn by a gaunt. de-
jected horse The little station-house was
very quiet and very hot; nothing was to
be heard but the ticking OF a clock, and
the flies buzzing on the dirty window
pane.
long half hour Cam waited, straining
her eyes along the dusty road pacing up
and down the platform, and seated on the
hard bench watching the slow hands OF
the old clock. At last she saw two figures
slowly approaching evidently the station
agent and the man who owned the team.
Cam sprang eagerly forward. Has any
one been here from Mr.. Wardrop's to-
day." she asked.
"No" said the agent. Ibid you expect
their folks for "A week"
II don't know what to do" SAID Cam
helplessy. 81 wrote that l was coming
on the afternoon train, and expected
them TO meet me-
wal. it's too badw said the agent
But. you know. they mighto't got their
mail reg lar, and so didn't know you
was coming. / don't know what you'll
do. l amt got any kind OF conveyance
myself. Here's Mr.. Davis. He's going
your road. and might give you lift.'
"Oh, would you be so kiud?" said Cam.
looking a little doubtfully at the spring
wagon and lean horse
why. yes, OF course" said Mr. Davis
But / couldn't take the trunk. I've got
too much Of a load. and I'm afraid you
wont find IL very comfortable in such a
rough fix"
Cam never forgot that ride The old
horse seemed TO creep. to crawl notwith-
standing many prods and encouraging
chirps from his driver The rough seat
had no back. and the jolts OF the wagon
over the rough. uneven road seemed at
last more than Cam could bear. Mr.
Davis's choice OF subjects OF conversa-
ton was limited. and there were long
intervals OF silence during which poor
Cam could hardly keep back her tears
Of fatigue and disappointment
At last the white posts Of the gate lead
ing into Uncle Bcn's place cleaned
through the dusk. and the spring wagon
was brought 10 halt
You won't mind walking the little
piece 10 the house?" said Mr.. Davis. Il
would drive you all the way in, but I've
got sickness at home. and my beast is