"Well," he said, "you have a great sin to answer for; when I received your card, I ordered a big bill of groceries, and Mrs. Reynolds had a great lot of good things prepared for your entertainment; and when you didn't come, I almost killed myself eating them up." Sorry I had missed such a treat; and caused so much misery. I left him, promising to call for any he might have left, which I did, and I found he had not eaten them all--which quite relieved my guiltiness. I called on Mrs. N. Turner, one of Fremont's earliest settlers, from whom I learned much of the early history of the country. She said as she shook my hand at parting: "I sincerely hope you will have a safe journey home, and find your dear mother well!" "Thank you," I replied, "you could not have wished me any thing better." Nothing can be more pleasant to me than to thus snatch acquaintances here and there, and though 'tis but a very short time we meet, yet I reap many good impressions, and many pleasing memories are stored away for future reference, in quiet hours. Left Fremont Wednesday noon, July 19, with aching temples; but the thought that I was really going home at last, soon relieved my indisposition, and I was ready to write as I went; eastward bound, over level country of good pasture and hay lands. Land, that, when we passed over the 26th April was void of a green spear; trees that then swayed their budding branches in the winds, now toss their leafy boughs. Said good-bye to the winding Elkhorn river, a little way east of Fremont. Wild roses and morning glories brighten the way. Why! here we are at Blair; but I have told of Blair before, so will go on to the Missouri river. And as we cross over I stand on the platform of the rear car where I can see the spray, and as I look down into the dark water and watch the furrow the boat leaves in the waves, I wonder where are all those that crossed over with me to the land I have just left. Some have returned, but the majority have scattered over the plains of Northwestern Nebraska. I was aroused from my sad reverie by an aged gentleman who stood in the door, asking: "Why, is this the way we cross the river? My! how strong the water must be to bear us up! Oh, dear! Be careful, Sis, or you might fall off when the boat jars against the shore." "I am holding tight," I replied, "and if I do I will fall right in the boat or skiff swung at the stern." I did not then know that to fall into the Missouri river is almost sure death, as the sand that is mixed with the water soon fills the clothing, and carries one to bottom--but we landed without a jar or jolt and leave the muddy waves for the sandy shores of Iowa.