New Walks in Old Ways 



ever ready for the road. So at last 

 the broad prairie land, some five days' 

 pull beyond the Mississippi, was 

 reached, and, amidst a world of wild 

 flowers that made the vernal earth a 

 garden of glowing beauty, a stake was 

 planted. I was born, in after years, in 

 the log house set upon that spot. My 

 father was one of the boys who made 

 the journeys from the old Kentucky 

 home. The lady of the Shenandoah 

 was my own grandmother of sainted 

 memory. 



To those who stood for all my various 

 misdeeds as an average and growing 

 youngster, I owe a filial debt that, 

 unfortunately, can now never be re- 

 paid. There are both words and deeds 

 I would could be recalled. Like most 

 other children, I suppose I did not half 

 appreciate my own parents, and all 

 they did for me. There breaks out 

 again, you see, the same old human 

 fault. That which is nearest, and 

 with which we are most familiar, sel- 

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