Standin’ as we do on the narrow, precarious ground of the present, the mortal, and them endless, eternal seas, a-beatin’ ’round us, on every side of us, bottomless, shoreless, ageless, and we a not seein’ either of ’em, under them awful, and lofty, and curious circumstances, what difference does it really make to us whether we are a-settin’ down or a-standin’ up; whether we are on a hill or in a valley; whether a lot of us have got together like aunts in a aunt hill, or whether we are more alone like storks or ostriges? _We can’t get away from ourselves_—can’t get a real change nohow, unless we knock our heads in and make idiots and lunys of ourselves. Movin’ our bodys round here and there is only a shadow of a change—a mockery. As if I should dress up my Josiah in a soldier coat, or baby clothes, there he is, inside of ’em, clear Josiah—no change in him, only a little difference in his outside circumstances. This is a very deep and curious subject. I have talked eloquently on it, I know, and my readers know, and I could go on, and filosifize on it jest as eloquent and deep, fur hours and hours. But I have already episoded too fur, and to resoom, and continue on. I told Tirzah Ann I thought it wus foolish in her to go off and rest, when they both, she and Whitfield, too, looked so awful rested now, and as bright as dollars. And that babe—well, it always wus the most beautiful child in the hull world, and the smartest child; but it does seem more as if it was smarter than ever, and beautifuler. You see, their yard is large and shady, and the little thing havin’ got so it could run alone, would be out in the yard, a-playin’ round, most all the time. It was dretful good for her, and she enjoyed it, and Tirzah Ann enjoyed it, too; for after she got her work done up, all she had to do was to set in the door, and watch that little, pretty thing a-playin’ round, and bein’ perfectly happy. It was a fair and lovely evenin’, though very warm; my salaratus had nearly gi’n out, and I had made the last drawin’ of tea for supper, and so, when I had got the dishes washed up, and Josiah had milked, he hitched up the old mare, and calm and serene in our two minds as the air of the evenin’, we rode down to Janesville, to get these necessarys, and a little beefsteak for breakfast, and see the children. We found that Thomas J. and Maggie had gone to tea to her folkses, that afternoon, but Tirzah Ann and Whitfield wus to home, and I don’t want to see a prettier sight than I see, as we druv up.