Mr. Jones strode off as if he had a congenial errand to do, and striking a "bee line" across the prairie, over a river, through a grove, halted before a cosy cottage that would remind one of New England. The acres and acres of tilled land stretched away from the dwelling, enclosed in the most substantial manner, and sleek cattle, that fed in the rich pasture, bespoke competency and enterprise. He stopped not to knock at the door, but entering, asked of a lady who sat sewing'-- "Is yer husband about, Mrs. Lincoln?" "Yes; he's in the other room. I'll speak to him." And in a moment the robust form of the owner of the farm appeared. "How are you, Jones?" he said, in an offhand way. "O, I'm nicely. I called on an errand fur yer minister, that you've invited to settle among us. He wants a spot for a cabin,--like the rest of us, I suppose,--and Smith has told him to look at the quarter section way over there, a mile and a half beyond Clark's; you know the place. I jist want to git your team and take him over in a good, Christian way, and not let him travel his legs off, so that he can't preach to us sinners next Sunday." Mr. Lincoln had been foremost in urging the missionary to cast in his lot with them, and no one had made more promises of material aid than he. He was sincere in this, and was really a generous man, but exceedingly careless. He had been told that the minister was going to look up a claim; but it had never occurred to him, until now, that the preacher had no other conveyance than his feet, and that to walk over the prairies would be a toilsome and time-consuming task. Slapping his caller on the shoulder, he said,-- "Glad to see you interested, Jones; and to encourage you, I'll harness right up, and you may take the span." The nimble-footed steeds were soon in the buggy; and the hunter, having taken the preacher aboard, was, in good time, pointing out to him the boundaries of the claim. It was a lovely spot,--like many such in Prairiedom,--and the hunter took care that it should be seen to advantage. On a gentle swell of ground was a small gem of a grove, commanding a view of the rest of the section. The fall flowers, many-hued and bright-eyed, nodded gayly in the tall grass; a natural spring, bursting from the hillock, wound its way along till lost in the distance; the sun was pouring down its rays from a sky fleecy-clouded and soft. How could the preacher, with his pure tastes and cultivated love of the beautiful, help being delighted with the scene? "This is delightful!" he exclaimed. "I'll build my cottage right here by the side of this spring, and my tilled land will always be in view." The hunter had anticipated his decision, and dryly observed,-- "It wouldn't be no sich place as yer ought to hev." "Why not?" asked the minister, smiling. "Do you reckon on keeping a horse?" asked the other. "No; I couldn't afford that."