"I have not," said my sister, "referred to Browning or Carlyle." "You may talk all you like"--I disdained her pointed interruption--"but for downright human nature here in the country, give me the Hempfield _Star_." Once during these weeks I paid a short obligatory visit to the printing-office, and gave Anthy the name of my uncle in California and got the envelopes that had been printed for me. I also took in a number of paragraphs relating to affairs in our neighbourhood, and told Anthy (only I did not call her Anthy then) that if agreeable I would contribute occasionally to the _Star_. She seemed exceedingly grateful, and I liked her better than ever. I also had a characteristic exchange with Fergus, in which, as usual, I came off worsted. In those troublous days Fergus was the toiling Atlas upon whose wiry shoulders rested the full weight of that heavenly body. He set most of the type, distributed it again, made up the forms, inked the rollers, printed the paper (for the most part), did all the job work which Hempfield afforded, and smoked the worst pipe in America. When I told him that I was going to write regularly for the _Star_ and showed him the paragraphs I had brought in (I suspect they _were_ rather long) this was his remark: "Oh, Lord, more writers!" It was on this occasion, too, that I really made the acquaintance of the Captain. He was in the best of spirits. He told me how he had beaten the rebels at Antietam. I enjoyed it all very much, and decided that for the time being I would suspend judgment on the pipe incident. One day I reached the point where I could stand it no longer. So I hitched up the mare and drove to town. All the way along the road I tried to imagine what had taken place in the printing-office. I thought with a sinking heart that the paper might have been sold, and that my new friends would go away. I thought that Anthy might be carrying out some new and vigorous plan of reconstruction, only somehow I could not feel Anthy's hand in the changes I had seen. It was all very vivid to me; I had, indeed, a feeling, that afterward became familiar enough, that the _Star_ was a living being, struggling, hoping, suffering, like one of us. In truth, it was just that.