185G.] Kate Osborne. 189 



"We have received no letter from you from some time ; your last was 

 mailed from Chicago, ^Yhere we presumed you were visiting, or on 

 business, and contained your remittance for Kate's last quarter's bills. 

 Pray, write soon again, and tell us all the news. 



Your affectionate sister, 



Catharine Sinclair. 

 To 3Ii\ John W. Osborne, Grass?/ Grove, Illinois. 



P. S. — I ought, perhaps, to say to you, that Kate has evidently made 

 a conquest of a young Trojan's heart, here in our goodly city. He is 

 a gentleman of fine attainments, good sense, very agreeable, irreproach- 

 able character, and has just completed his professional studies at the 

 Albany Law School. He seems very devoted in his attentions to my 

 niece, and I rather think our "Prarie PloWer" likes him. But, as you 

 charged me to keep Kate from all society of young gents, I feel it my 

 duty to apprise you of matters before too late to break up their attach- 

 ment, should any be formed. But, really, Brother John, I think Mr. 

 Clinton a most estimable young man, and not unworthy of even our 

 darling Kate. Yours in haste, 



Catharine S." 



Three days after the foregoing epistle had been dispatched on its 

 " tell-tale errand," there sat in the grateful shade of his cottage porch, 

 a hale old Farmer of the Prarie State. Partially concealed within the 

 borders of a timber grove, that skirts a lovely landscape scene Vi^here the 

 gently rolling prairie 



" stretched in boundless beauty lies, " 



the ample cottage of the Farmer, nestled in shade and seclusion beneath 

 the flowers of o'erarching vines, and the foliage of o'ershadowing boughs. 

 Seated in his capacious easy-chair, with newspaper in hand, and spectacle 

 on nose, the sturdy farmer was " nooning " in genial quiet, when his man 

 Peter came up from the road and handed him a letter. 

 " What's this, eh ? Pet^^r, where does this come from ? " 

 ** Dis from de Bost Haus koraer," answered the Teuton, and went 

 about his work rejoicing that he was able to give an answer so explicit 

 to a question so precise. Turning the letter around twice and over 

 thrice, the farmer satisfied himself that it was plainly but delicately 

 addressed to " Mr. John W. Osborne, Grassy Grove, Illinois." " That's 

 all right," muttered he to himself, " that's me : I guess it's from Kate ; 

 wants more money, I 'spose : how like splinters these little school-girls 



