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Updated: May 13, 2025
"It is not a large one, and in addition there is only my satchel and the level and the lunch my maid is putting up for us." "There is room for more, if you wish," replied Isobel. "But we can send over here for anything you need, any time." "You're not going to let us really rough-it!" complained Mrs. Blake, as her husband swung her to the ground. "Were it not for Thomas Herbert "
If you can furnish good ranch fare for my wife, son, and self as guests, will look over your situation without charge. Wife wishes to rough-it, but must have milk and eggs. Will leave servants in car at Stockchute, where we shall expect a conveyance to meet us Thursday, the 25th inst., if terms agreeable. Respectfully yours, THOMAS BLAKE.
Blake drove out to them in the buckboard, bringing a hot meal in an improvised fireless-cooker. "And we came West to rough-it!" groaned Blake, his eyes twinkling. "You can camp at the waterhole where Lafe did, and I'll send Kid out for that bobcat," suggested the girl. "You could roast him, hair and all." "What! roast Gowan?" protested Blake.
And we're supposed to feed them!" "It is just because of the change we will give them that they are coming out here," surmised Isobel. "Look at the letter again. Mr. Blake expressly writes that his wife wishes to rough-it. Of course she cannot know what real roughing-it means. But if she is coming to us without a maid, we shall like her as much as as Mr. Blake."
Knowles gave the baby back to its half-fearful mother, and rose to greet his guest with hospitable warmth: "Howdy, Mr. Blake! I'm downright glad to meet you. Hope you've found things comfortable and homelike." "Too much so," asserted Blake, his eyes twinkling. "We came out expecting to rough-it." "Well, your lady won't know the difference," remarked Knowles.
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