KANSAS HOMES. 
47 
liarities awakening an interest in us, and giving zest tc their con¬ 
versation, each day varied with some new incident, we are look¬ 
ing for something new and strange from home. 
Some ladies from Massachusetts soon call. One of them came 
with the second Hew England company, and has been through the 
heats of the day. They brought a bouquet, which for beauty 
would compare favorably with any green-house collection. As 
they pranced their horses gayly from the door, and over the table 
land between us and the brow of the hill north, nothing could 
have looked finer. 
The evening shadows fall, another week is at an end, and seated 
around the table we are writing to home friends, when there is a 
new rattling at the rickety door-step, and, almost before we can 
turn to see, doctor comes in under the buffalo robe. He has been 
just ten days from home. The pleasant light shining from the 
windows gave him, in advance of us, a glad welcome. They had 
been two hundred miles back in the country, and there as here 
a most delightful region invites settlement. 
— Exclamations of delight from E.’s room called me early 
from mine. Words poorly convey an idea of the exceeding beauty 
of the scene. A mist was slowly ascending from the river. 
The sun, in a chariot of fire, was mounting upwards from a bed 
of golden clouds, and his beams encircled earth, air and sky, in a 
halo of glory; the mists still rising became a silver sheen, through 
which the foliage on the further bank looked yet more green and 
brilliant. It was a beautiful harbinger of the Sabbath morning, 
which to man brings peace and quiet here, and offers glory in the 
unending ages. The quiet of the day is most grateful. Before 
time for service, Mr. P. came in from “ Fisk’s,” nine miles from 
here, in the Shawnee Reserve. We attended church and Sabbath 
school. In the evening sang Whittier’s gem of a Kansas song. 
Some beautiful bouquets were passed in at the door. They were 
fairy gifts, the giver remaining unseen. 
1th. — The grass is getting so high, and we are so far from the 
road, Mr. W. spends a long forenoon in beating down the grass, 
and making a wide path. We ride out again to see our Boston 
friend. She had been trying to churn, with the cream in a large 
