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Updated: May 11, 2025
Brimstead seemed to be conveying a message to the woman by signs. Evidently the latter was deaf and dumb. "That is the third slave," Brimstead whispered. "I don't believe they'll discover her." Soon Peasley and Samson got into the wagon with the negroes and drove away, followed by the two horsemen. In a little village on the river they stopped at a low frame house. A woman came to the door.
Couldn't get anything out of it but disappointment. My farm was mortgaged to the bank and I was mortgaged to the children. I couldn't even die." Samson wrote in his diary that night: * "When Brimstead brings his sense of humor into play he acts as if he was telling a secret. When he says anything that makes me laugh, he's terribly confidential. Seems so he was kind of ashamed of it.
"I've been up to the Kelsos' home and had a wonderful talk with him and Brimstead," said Abe. "They have discovered each other. Kelso lives in a glorious past and Brimstead in a golden future. They're both poets. Kelso is translating the odes of Pindar. Brimstead is constructing the future of Illinois. They laugh at each other and so create a fairly agreeable present." "Did you see Annabel?"
Late in the evening I'll pick 'em up an' get 'em out o' this part o' the country." Meanwhile Brimstead and Harry had stood for a moment in the dooryard of the former, watching the party on its way up the road. Brimstead blew out his breath and said in a low tone: "Say, I'll tell ye, I ain't had so much excitement since Samson Traylor rode into Flea Valley.
Abe Lincoln and Harry entered with their host and the travelers sat down to a luncheon of pudding and milk and doughnuts and pie. "There's no El Dorado about this," said Samson. "Women have to have something more than hopes to work with." "The women in this country have to do all their dreaming at night," said Mrs. Brimstead. "El Dorado will not stay long," Samson averred.
"I don't hear of anything but love and marriage," said Samson. "We've been rassling down at our house to keep Josiah from running off and getting married. He's engaged already." "Engaged! To whom?" Harry asked. "To Annabel Brimstead. She's a little older than he is. She laughed at him and promised to marry him as soon as he was nominated for President by all his friends.
"Who are you?" Brimstead asked. "I'm one o' the Traylors o' Vergennes." "My father used to buy cattle of Henry Traylor." "Henry was my father. Haven't you let 'em know about your bad luck?" The man resumed his tone of confidence. "Say, I'll tell ye," he answered. "A man that's as big a fool as I am ought not to advertise it.
Samson had returned and, as they sat down at the table, he told what had happened at the Constable's house and learned of the passing of Biggs and his friend in the road, followed by Collar on his sorrel mare. "We must hurry back, but we will have to give the horses a rest," said Samson. "And the young people a chance to play checkers?" said Mrs. Brimstead.
There the good woman bought new clothes for the whole Brimstead family and Brimstead sold his interest in the sand plains and bought a good pair of horses, with harness and some cloth for a wagon cover, and had fifty dollars in his pocket and a new look in his face. He put his children on the backs of the horses and led them to his old home, with a sack of provisions on his shoulder.
I think there will be better markets to the north than there are to the south of us." "By jingo!" Samson exclaimed. "Your brain is about as busy as a beehive on a bright summer day." "Say, don't you mention that to a livin' soul," said Brimstead. "My brain began to chase the rainbow when I was a boy. It drove me out o' Vermont into the trail to the West and landed me in Flea Valley.
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