“The wondrous, beautiful prairies, Billowy bays of grass, ever rolling in shadow and sunshine, Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple amorphas; And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline heaven, Like the protecting hands of God inverted above them.” EVANGELINE. It looked quite homelike; the house shaded by tall trees, the garden, the hedge of Osage orange shutting out the wide expanse of prairie. The house was in the corner of Tazewell county; the barn in McLean, and the greater part of the farm in a third county. Norman found two new aunts to know and love, and a tall cousin of six feet three. It was not long before he became acquainted with two little girls of ten and twelve, cousins, who lived on a farm near, with whom he had many pleasant hours of play. They had, too, a great deal to talk over of their journings in the West, for these little girls had always before lived in a New England home. They had seen a great many Indians, painted in all their bravery, in Wisconsin. They had seen a squaw, with her papoose strapped on her back, riding on a small Indian pony, with a child before and a child behind. “This, mother,” said Norman, “is pleasanter than all; one day on a prairie is worth ten days in town.” He was up early in the morning to see the horses watered before they were sent off to the field. There were more then twenty of them, and Norman’s cousin, Justin, selected the handsomest colt on the farm, and gave it to Norman for his own. Norman was enchanted. He took an ear of corn, and Prince followed him about, eating it from his hand. Even after Prince had gone down into the field, he followed Norman and the ear of corn home. “Mother, look at my colt,” said Norman in triumph; “how am I to get him home?” There were various plans discussed, as the one idea took possession of his mind, but no satisfactory conclusions were arrived at. The glow of delight somewhat faded away. “I really do not know what good my colt is going to do me,” said Norman, despondingly; “I cannot ride him here, and I cannot take him home.” His face brightened, however, when David brought up a horse for him to ride. He had never rode before but once, when the pony threw him over his head; but he said this was the sort of riding he would like, to charge over the prairies. He did ride off several miles over the prairies by himself, and then he rode four miles with his Aunt Clara.