I had endured for years these alternate freezing and roasting rides for the pleasure of living near the old folks; but now the numerous colds and coughs resulting from the exposure drove me to move nearer to the depot, and we bought a large three-story house with barn and fourteen acres of land on High Street in the city of N----. We rejuvenated our old castle with paint, new boiler and paper, letting loose upon our devoted heads numerous fevers and other diseases which generations had stored up on the walls, all eager for new victims. Strange it is, that all bad things are so contagious and so long-lived to punish the innocent for the sins of the guilty. Upon me, the descendant of a long line of farmers, fell the agricultural fever, and I broke my own back as well as that of the hired man, cultivating that sterile soil where my potatoes cost me about a quarter of a dollar a piece, and each blade of grass, sickness and much hard-earned cash. We made the old place to bud and blossom like the rose, but the game as usual was not worth the candle, and an ulcerated sore throat which some predecessor had breathed upon the paper which we tore off, left me a walking skeleton, when ex-Congressman Loring, then United States Commissioner of Agriculture, came to my relief by appointing me his deputy for Florida at a good salary, to investigate and report upon the developed and undeveloped resources of that State, and its attractions for northern settlers. I gladly accepted this commission to serve my country, for-- Somewhere the sun is shining, I thought as I toiled along In the freezing cold of the winter, Yes, somewhere the sun is shining Though here I shiver and sigh, Not a breath of warmth is stirring Not a beam in the arctic sky. Somewhere the thing we long for Exists on earth's wide bound, Somewhere the heat is cheering While here winter nips the ground. Somewhere the flowers are springing, Somewhere the corn is brown, And is ready unto the harvest To feed the hungry town. Somewhere the twilight gathers, And weary men lay by The burdens of the daytime, And wrapped in slumber lie. Somewhere the day is breaking, And gloom and darkness flee; Though storms our bark are tossing, There's somewhere a placid sea. And thus, I thought, 'tis always In this mysterious life, There's always gladness somewhere In spite of its pain and strife; And somewhere the sin and sorrow Of earth are known no more; Somewhere our weary spirits Shall find a peaceful shore. CHAPTER XVII. THAT _EDDYFYING_ CHRISTIAN SCIENCE.