disappointed lad that the watchful mother was "sure the dear boy had
tidings." Her lip trembled as she motioned to the father and called out,
"Where's Esther? Where's Sam? Call 'em all in. Siah's coming real fast;
I guess he's got a letter from Betsey!" "How he does ride!" says Hannah.
"Dear fellow, I most know he's got a letter!" "Yis, yis," says little
sharp-eyed Sam; "see, he holds suthin' white higher'n his head." Sure
enough, on comes the rider, flourishing in his hand the long-looked-for
message from the absent one!

It was but the work of a moment for the excited lad to leap upon the block,
throw the bridle over the post, and run in, letter in hand, vociferating,
"Don't ye worry any more about Betsey; she's all safe and sound. See, it's
in her own handwrite." "Yis, daddy, and stuck together with that same red
wax you gin her," says little Sam.

Ruth breaks the seal and finds a large sheet, and closely written. A glance
from the father brings the house to silence, and she begins to read. Never
a letter began with more tender words or in a sweeter spirit; but all
sounds so precise and awfully solemn that the voice of the reader falters;
tears fill the eyes of the mother and sisters; the father turns pale;
little Sam looks frightened and grips his mother's arm, while Josiah sobs
aloud. But the resolute reader moves steadily on, and only breaks down when
she reaches the name, "Your loving daughter and sister, Elizabeth Ward."

These words stung that proud father to the quick. To hear his darling's
name attached to _such_ a letter, and find his cherished plans thwarted
forever, was more than he could endure. He arose in a paroxysm of wrath and
left the house. The mother, watching him, became greatly alarmed, for she
had never seen him so angry.