283 MARK TWAIN'S SKETCHES. 



manners, and customs of procedure of Senators and Representatives in the 



Chambers of the National Legislature. Presently two men halted near us for a 



single moment, and one said to the other : 



"Harris, if you'll do that for me, I'll never forget you, my boy." 



My new comrade's eyes lighted pleasantly. The words had touched upon a 



happy memory, I thought. Then his face settled into thoughtfulness — almost into 



gloom. He turned to me and said, "Let me tell you a story; let me give you a- 



secret chapter of my life — a chapter that has never been referred to by me since its 



events transpired. Listen patiently, and promise that you will not interrupt me." 



I said I would not, and he related the following strange adventure, speaking 



sometimes with animation, sometimes with melancholy, but always with feeling 



and earnestness. 



The Stranger's Narrative. 



"On the 19th of December, 1853, I started from St. Louis on the evening train 

 bound for Chicago. There were only twenty-four passengers, all told. There 

 were no ladies and no children. We were in excellent spirits, and pleasant 

 acquaintanceships were soon formed. The journey bade fair to be a happy one; 

 and no individual in the party, I think, had even the vaguest presentiment of the 

 horrors we were soon to undergo. 



"At II p. M. it began to snow hard. Shortly after leaving the small village of 

 Welden, we entered upon that tremendous prairie solitude that stretches its leagues 

 on leagues of houseless dreariness far away towards the Jubilee Settlements. The" 

 winds, unobstructed by trees or hills, or even vagrant rocks, whistled fiercely across 

 the level desert, driving the falling snow before it like spray from the crested waves 

 of a stormy sea. The snow was deepening fast; and we knew, by the diminished 

 speed of the train, that the engine was ploughing through it with steadily increasing 

 difficulty. Indeed, it almost came to a dead halt sometimes, in the midst of great 

 drifts that piled themselves like colossal graves across the track. Conversation 

 began to flag. Cheerfulness gave place to grave concern. The possibility of being 

 imprisoned in the snow, on the bleak prairie, fifty miles from any house, presented 

 itself to every mind, and extended its depressing influence over every spirit. 



" At two o'clock in the morning I was aroused out of an uneasy slumber by the 



