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Updated: July 8, 2025
"I expect to open a drug store and begin the practise of medicine," said the doctor, "at the thriving town of Monterey Centre." "I've got some land in Monterey County," said I; "but I don't know where in the county it is." Doctor Bliven started; and Buckner Gowdy shook my hand again, and then the doctor's. "A sort of previous neighborhood reunion," said he.
In one of these classes Monterey County, and even Vandemark Township, took its place. Buckner Gowdy and Doctor Bliven, the little girl who fainted away on the wooden bench in the night, and the yellow-haired woman who stole a ride with me across the Dubuque ferry had their part in the building up of our great community and others worked with them, some for the good and some for the bad.
But Sister Arvilly Lanfear, who happened to be a-standin' in the door as they went off, she said she heard 'em out as fer as the gate a-congratilatin' themselves and the Methodist Meetin' House and the nation on the decesion, for, sez they, "Them angels hain't strong enough to set, and I've known it all the time." And Sister Sylvester Gowdy sez to me, a-rubbin' herachin' armpits
They murmured that English was a hidebound New-Englander who was incapable of appreciating the expansive ideals of Western life, and that Gowdy, city-born and city-bred, was wholly out of sympathy with the sturdy aims and wholesome ambitions of the farm and prairie. For once Art might well take a back seat and give honest human feeling a fair show.
Gowdy is not at home this afternoon," they told Jared in response to his ring; "he is addressing a public meeting down town." This would have applied to half the days of every calendar month throughout the year. When Dr. Gowdy let a day pass without making some public utterance, he counted that day as good as lost.
<b>BAILY, CAROLINE A. B.</b> Gold medal, Paris Exposition, 1900; third-class medal, Salon, 1901. <b>BAKER, ELIZABETH GOWDY.</b> Medal at Cooper Union. Member of Boston Art Students' Association and Art Workers' Club for Women, New York. Born at Xenia, Ohio.
And you ask Dan Gowdy, the agent, about trains. I guess he can dope out a way to get you to Washington. You still have ten minutes." "Good-by, and thank you heaps!" cried Betty warmly, shaking his hand. "I don't know what I should have done without you, Fred!"
"I guess not," said I, thinking of the fate which led me to my last night's camp, and of Gowdy's search having missed me as he rode by in the night. They drove on, leaving us standing by the roadside. Virginia crept forward and peeked over the back of the seat after them until they disappeared over a hillock. Then she began begging me to go where Gowdy could not find us.
She had thanked kind Dan Gowdy rather incoherently, though as warmly as she could, and had only half heard his explanation that she was taking the 12:01 train up the line instead of the 12:03 down, and it was no wonder that in the bustle of boarding the train she had forgotten her intention of telegraphing to her Uncle Dick.
After a while, Rowena came around the end of a haystack, and spoke to me. "Mr. Gowdy wants us all to go to work for him," she said. "He wants pa and the boys to work around the place, and he says he thinks some of Surrager's machines are worth money. He'll give me work in the house." "It looks like a good chance," said I.
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