There was scarcely a breath of wind, and the
landscape toward which our steady nag trotted sturdily wore a faint
atmosphere of saffron haze, as though the sunlight had been steeped in
the lees of the yellow foliage. And the day we were married there was
a driving snowstorm! Josephine had predicted so confidently that
history would repeat itself on our anniversary, that I think she was
rather disappointed when she awoke to find the sun shining and all the
elements at rest.
Our Pegasus scarcely needed the guidance of the reins. He knew where
we were going, and sped along with our comfortable if old-fashioned
top-buggy at a stylish yet self-respecting gait in keeping with the
dignity of the occasion. Our first destination was the attractive home
of our daughter Winona, who lives eight miles out of town, on a hundred
lordly acres. She has an adoring husband--the tall, handsome,
impressive-looking youth of my prophetic soul--and an adored infant six
months old. Her husband is a scion of one of the oldest and wealthiest
families in the city, and he has already made his mark in the political
field. He has been a Congressman, and his admirers are talking of
giving him the next party nomination--not my party (so you see that my
partiality does not proceed from political affiliation)--for Governor.
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