The previous afternoon I had visited a little girl in the village, and we had found and thrown away a nest full of rotten eggs.

The next time I saw her she said that her big brother was mad at us, for he was saving those eggs, and he and some other big boys had intended to throw them at Pardee Butler while he was making that temperance speech; but when they went to the barn, their eggs were gone.

The truth was, that her big brother was one of many boys who were fast being made drunkards by the village saloons.
Mother went to Ohio on a visit, and father went to Iowa to attend to some business.

On his return he met one of the State Republican Committee, who insisted on making arrangements for him to stay in Illinois until the presidential election, and speak for Fremont.
It was raw November weather when we started back to Kansas, with a one-horse wagon, drawn by Copper, and a heavily loaded mule team, driven by a boy named Henry Whitaker, who is now one of the merchants of Atchison.

Mother was sick, and we had to stop a week.