HERE I must say a word about a little follower, present even now before my eyes. I have been accompanied on my whole journey from Barnegat to Pikes Peak by a pleasant floricultural friend, or rather millions of friendsnothing more or less than a hardy little yellow five-petald September and October wild-flower, growing I think everywhere in the middle and northern United States. I had seen it on the Hudson and over Long Island, and along the banks of the Delaware and through New Jersey, (as years ago up the Connecticut, and one fall by Lake Champlain.) This trip it followd me regularly, with its slender stem and eyes of gold, from Cape May to the Kaw valley, and so through the cañons and to these plains. In Missouri I saw immense fields all bright with it. Toward western Illinois I woke up one morning in the sleeper and the first thing when I drew the curtain of my berth and lookd out was its pretty countenance and bending neck.
Sept. 25th.Early morningstill going east after we leave Sterling, Kansas, where I stoppd a day and night. The sun up about half an hour; nothing can be fresher or more beautiful than this time, this region. I see quite a field of my yellow flower in full bloom. At intervals dots of nice two-story houses, as we ride swiftly by. Over the immense area, flat as a floor, visible for twenty miles in every direction in the clear air, a prevalence of autumn-drab and reddish-tawny herbagesparse stacks of hay and enclosures, breaking the landscapeas we rumble by, flocks of prairie-hens starting up. Between Sterling and Florence a fine country. (Remembrances to E.L., my old-young soldier friend of war times, and his wife and boy at S.)