The next day, when almost in despair, we heard in the distance the welcome sound of a locomotive whistle. The gentlemen rushed to the depot and soon bore us the pleasant tidings that the train would leave in two hours and a half. We hurriedly gathered together our baggage and sufficient supplies for a week, arriving at the train just in time to secure a section in the sleeping-car. Hoping for no more delay, we started, but ere long found ourselves landed in a snow bank, with five trains ahead of us, in the same predicament. A three-days stand-still of this kind, with its trying tedium, can be imagined only by those who have been similarly situated, and its tedium is equaled by nothing but an Ohio River sand bar imprisonment on a stern wheel steamer.

My sensibilities had quite a reawakening jog from an incidental abrasure, received by coming in contact with one of the acute angles in the person of Miss Susan B. Anthony, who honored us with her distinguished presence.

She was in company with the family of the Honorable Mr. Sargent, United States Senator from California. This gentleman evinced great native delicacy in his quiet, un.o.btrusive attentions. Miss Susan had been very impatient at the long delay, and constantly berated the male s.e.x and their inadequacy to great emergencies, and was offered by the complimented parties the privilege of engineering the train, an honor she respectfully declined. One day I was saluted by a voice, not sweetly feminine in tone, while an impetuous hand pitched, at me one of my own books. The voice asked:

"Were you ever in Michigan? Are you married? I knew a blind woman there who had five children, and they were all deaf and dumb! _I think_ Congress ought to pa.s.s a law to prevent these people from marrying and bringing such _creatures_ into the world!"

These burning words came with the fierce force of the tornado and the horrible heat of the simoon. So abruptly had she taken her leave, that she was beyond hearing before I could sufficiently recover to reply. Words I would have spoken burned upon my lips, and emotions welled up from the depths of an affection as deep, true and unfathomable as ever struggled in such a heart as that of Susan B. Anthony.

Long did I dwell upon the cruel words, wondering if they could have emanated from a woman who advocated the inviolable rights and bewailed the deep wrongs of her own s.e.x, or if Congress had the power to exclude the blind from loving and following the holiest impulses of their natures, like other human beings!

After our extrication we sped on to Sherman, the highest of the mountain towns, and the Railroad Company treated us to a dinner, which, although poor, was much relished, after our protracted dieting. After leaving Laramie we had another delay of two days' length, after which we went via Cheyenne to Omaha, rejoicing, and after eleven days of weary travel felt ourselves really homeward bound.

CHAPTER x.x.xII.

"'Tis sweet to hear the watch-dog's honest bark, Bay deep-mouthed welcome as we draw Near home; 'Tis sweet to know there is an eye Will mark our coming, and look brighter When we come."

We reached home in mid-winter, and found a scene of indescribable desolation, the fire having devastated so many familiar spots in the city's approach; depots in ashes and entire streets a wide waste. Finding no one to meet us, with the longed-for, loving welcome, we were tortured with fear, and went at once to Mr. Arms' place of business, where we learned that he was at home and sick. Thither we hurriedly wended our way, and, although we found the invalid unable to leave his bed, we thought it sweet to find ourselves in this our _first_ home, which, having been reared in my absence, seemed like a magic castle bridging over the sad separation.

My husband soon convalesced and we began to lay plans for furnishing our new abode. I still suffered from a cold upon my lungs contracted from the long exposure on the plains, and it fell to the lot of Hattie to a.s.sist Mr. Arms in the selection of our household goods. She had become eyes and hands for me, and I never so fully realized how the touch of sympathy could blend _two_ tastes in _one_, for every article met my entire approval. I will not dwell upon the joys of our new home; but well has the poet said--

"Each man's chimney is his golden mile stone, Is the central point from which He measures every distance Through the gateway of the world Around him.

"We may build more splendid habitations, Fill our rooms with paintings And with sculpture; But we cannot buy with gold The old a.s.sociation."

In every Paradise since the first Eden the inevitable trail of the serpent has been over all, and too often it comes in its halcyon hours.

Insidiously and surely came the stealthy trail of our serpent in the declining health of my husband, and the impending danger to the dear life of Hattie.

I took her to every physician who made her disease a specialty, going far and near to consult them, each one of whom would shake their heads in despair, yet all seeming willing to undertake her case. But to me she was too precious to be submitted to experimental treatment. Finally the fame of Dr. Kingsley reached us. He was known as the Great American Cancer Doctor, and we went at once to his cure, in Rome, New York.

The same ominous shade came with his examination, and he too failed to promise a cure. Pa.s.sing through the wards of his hospitals, with their agonizing and appalling scenes, the shrieks of pain ringing like death-knells in our ears, decided us, neither of us being willing she should submit to a fate so fraught with fearful contingencies.

We were stopping with a family named Crawford, who were friends of Hattie, and whose unremitting kindness will be a life-long memory.

We returned to them in deep despair, when we heard of Mr. Golly, a neighboring farmer, who was performing almost miraculous cures, and we at once took the stage and went to him.

A few moments conversation inspired us with confidence in the man, whose frank face was an index to his character, and whose sympathetic soul breathed through every intonation of his gentle voice.

He advised her to remain for treatment, a.s.suring her, that if she was unable to pay, it would cost her nothing.

We were willing to remunerate if certain of cure, and, knowing the dread uncertainty of the case, this n.o.ble man revealed in his offer his true magnanimity. I remained with her two months, when home demands became imperative, and I longingly left one who, through nine years of _close_ and _dear_ relationship had become a life link hard to sever.

With undying grat.i.tude to good Mr. Golly, I left her confided to his fatherly care, knowing he could not prove recreant to the trust.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII.

"There was a time when meadow, Grove and stream, The earth and every common sight To me did seem Appareled in celestial light, The glory and the freshness of a dream.

It is not now as it has been of yore, Turn where soe'r I may, By night or day, The things that I have seen I now can see no more."

Upon our return to Chicago I found my husband so ill that he yielded to the advice of his physician to go to the Mineral Springs of St. Louis, and there being a heavy drain upon our finances, I felt it necessary to resume my travels. Disagreeable as was the task, it was tolerable only for its benefit to loved ones.

Ida, the young daughter of my favorite brother, had just graduated, her laurels still green and her heart full of girlish enthusiasm. With the sanction of her parents she kindly consented to accompany me. Kindred ties are deep and strong, and her society was like a ray of sunshine in my clouded pathway.

Mr. Keep, the Manager of the North-western Railway, presented us with a general pa.s.s, and we started for the Lake Superior country, first visiting many of the beautiful towns of Wisconsin, among which was Peshtigo, then but partially rebuilt from its recent ravages from fire. In canva.s.sing we called at the house of Mrs. Armstrong, who kept a book, and asked us to call in the afternoon for the money.

During the day her little daughter had become so interested in the "story of the blind girl," that she insisted upon going out to buy her a dress, which she presented in person. Little Nellie's gift of simple calico was as precious to me as if of silken texture and Tyrion dye, and "waxed rich"

with the royalty of sympathy and love.

We visited Escanaba, a beautiful summer resort upon Lake Michigan, spending a delightful week in the elegant hotel, which rests in the shaded seclusion of park and garden, and gaining renewed health and vigor.

We had a short, sweet stay at Marquette, saw the "Isle of Yellow Sands"

with its luring light, the "Pictured Rocks" bearing the tracery of the Divine Artist, and all the well-known beauties of Lake Superior.

On our way to Ishpenming we were presented with tickets to the concert of "Blind Tom," the musical prodigy and whilom slave boy, through whose G.o.d-given talent the former master had ama.s.sed quite a fortune.

We heard his improvised and memorized melodies, and were struck with awe and wonder.

After the concert we went to the Commercial Hotel, where I was suddenly and violently attacked with a congestive chill, in which emergency Mrs.

Newett, the landlady, proved a ministering angel, her thorough knowledge of the disease and prompt devoted attendance no doubt saving my life.

We next visited L'Anse, the terminus of the Marquette Railroad, and found a delightful hotel, bearing the euphonious name of Lake Linden House, suggestive of the beautiful grounds gracefully sloping to the edge of the lake, whose "wide waste of waters" seemed a "sapphire sea" set with emerald gems, from one of which verdant spots gleaming in the picturesque distance rose the symmetrical spire of a cathedral, whose cross stood out like a beautiful "bas relief" from the violet background; and the solemn voice of the convent bell told the hour when orisons arose like holy incense to the skies. A fitting resort for the student, and the recluse was this secluded spot, where nature opened her fairest page, and beauty planted her altars on earth, in air and sky, and where "devotion wafts the mind above."

We crossed in the steamer to Houghton, beautifully located upon a winding stream, and we were pleasantly entertained at the b.u.t.terfield House.

We remained some time, lingering among the towns in its vicinity, and returned home improved in health and finances.

Before settling down for the winter I resolved to visit a few towns in the vicinity of Chicago, and among them Sycamore, where there was an unexpected episode in my hitherto eventful career, a touching incident and "words fitly spoken," which the good book says are as "apples of gold in pictures of silver."

My husband having once been engaged in business at Sycamore, I was in constant expectation of meeting some of his old a.s.sociates; hence, was not so much surprised when, upon entering a store, a gentleman stepped down from his desk, and warmly grasping both of my hands, exclaimed: "I know you." I quickly and inquiringly responded, you are perhaps a friend of my husband? Oh no, he replied, I do not know your husband, but I have great reason to remember you, for you were the cause of my salvation!

Moved and wondering, I tried in vain to recall the time when I could have been an humble agent in the hands of the Heavenly Father, even to the salvation of a human soul.

Shakspeare has said that--

"Ofttimes to win us to our harm The instruments of darkness tell us truths; Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence."

And why should not the same "honest trifles" win us to good.

He then explained to me that eight years previous he was in Burlington, Wisconsin, having wandered far from the fold in which a patient, loving, Christian mother had faithfully tended her flock, teaching them the wisdom of divine truth and loving lessons of duty to G.o.d and man.

He had entered a saloon and sat down to a card-table with a congenial companion, when suddenly lifting his eyes a lady stood beside him offering him a little book, and something in the expression of that face riveted his attention and penetrated the depths of his soul, inspiring resolves _new_ and _strange_. While years had pa.s.sed since that time, he had never forgotten the lineaments which had changed the whole tenor of his life.