Also two churches belonging to different denominations; both frame structures, of extremely plain and unpretentious architecture, with bare walls, uncurtained windows, rough, uncarpeted floors, and rude hard benches in lieu of pews. No thought of architectural beauty or even of comfort and convenience, beyond that of mere protection from the weather, seemed to have entered the minds of any of the builders here; the houses were mere shells; with no cupboards or closets or the slightest attempt at ornamentation. Nor was their unsightliness concealed by vines, trees, or shrubbery; almost every one of the beautiful monarchs of the forest once adorning the locality had been ruthlessly felled, and a stump here and there was all that was left to tell of their former existence. As the keel of the Mary Ann grated on the gravelly shore, a tall figure in rough farmer attire came springing down the bank, calling out in tones of unfeigned joy, "Hello, Keith! Come at last--wife, children, and all; eh? I'm glad to see ye! Never was more delighted in my life." And the speaker catching Mr. Keith's hand in his shook it with hearty good will, then treating the rest of the party in like manner, as with his and Mr. Keith's assistance, each in turn stepped from the boat. Mr. George Ward was an old client and friend of Mr. Keith's, who had been long urging this removal. "I declare I wish I lived in town for a few days now," he went on, "but we're three mile out on the prairie, as you know, Keith. I have my team here, though, and if you like to pile into the wagon, all of you, I'll take you home with me, as it is." The hospitable invitation was declined with thanks. "There are quite too many of us, Mr. Ward," Mrs. Keith said, smilingly, "and we want to get into a house of our own just as soon as possible." "Ah yes, so your husband wrote me; and I've been looking round for you. But the best that's to be had will seem a poor place to you, Mrs. Keith, after what you've left behind in Lansdale." "I suppose so, but of course we must expect to put up with many inconveniences and probably some hardships even, for the first few years," she answered, cheerfully. "I'm afraid that's so, but I hope you'll find yourselves paid for it in the long run. Now shall I take you to the Union Hotel? You can't, of course, get into your own house to-night. "Here, let me carry you, bub," picking up Cyril, "the soil's real sandy here and makes heavy walking." "If, as I presume from your recommendation of it, it is your best house of entertainment," Mr. Keith said, in reply to the question. "Yes, sir, there's only one other, and it's a very poor affair," returned Mr. Ward, leading the way. Mrs. Prior, the landlady, a pleasant-faced, middle-aged woman, with kind, motherly manners, met them at the door with a welcome nearly as hearty as that of their old time friend.