Well, in the spring we was married; and when I come to go away, Major
put a little red Bible into my trunk for a weddin' present; but I was
cryin' too hard to thank her. She swallowed down whatever choked her,
and begged of me not to cry so, lest Russell should take it hard that
I mourned to go with him. But just then I was thinkin' more of Major
and mother than I was of Russell; they'd kept me bright and cheery
always, and kept up my heart with their own good ways when I hadn't no
strength to do it for myself; and now I was goin' off alone with
Russell, and he wasn't very cheerful-dispositioned, and somehow my
courage give way all to once.

But I had to go; railroads don't wait for nobody; and what with the
long journey, and the new ways and things and people, I hadn't no time
to get real down once before we got to Indiana. After we left the boat
there was a spell of railroad, and then a long stage-ride to
Cumberton; and then we had to hire a big wagon and team, so's to get
us out to our claim, thirty miles west'ard of Cumberton. I hadn't no
time to feel real lonesome now, for all our things hed got to be
onpacked, and packed over ag'in in the wagon; some on 'em had to be
stored up, so's to come another time. We was two days gettin' to the
claim, the roads was so bad,--mostly what they call corduroy, but a
good stretch clear mud-holes. By the time we got to the end on't, I
was tired out, just fit to cry; and such a house as was waitin' for
us!--a real log shanty! I see Russell looked real beat when he see my
face; and I tried to brighten up; but I wished to my heart I was back
with mother forty times that night, if I did once. Then come the worst
of all, clutterin' everything right into that shanty; for our
frame-house wouldn't be done for two months, and there wa'n't scarce
room for what we'd brought, so't we couldn't think of sendin' for what