FORT LYON, COLORADO TERRITORY,
October, 1873.
ONE naturally looks for all sorts of thrilling experiences when out on
the frontier, but to have men and things mix themselves up in a
maddening way in one's very own house, as has recently been done in
mine, is something not usually counted upon. To begin with, Mrs. Rae
is with us, and her coming was not only most unlocked for up to two
days ago, but through a wretched mistake in a telegram she got here
just twenty-four hours before we thought she would arrive. Ordinarily
this would have been a delightful surprise, but, unfortunately, things
had begun to "mix!"
Faye had suffered so much from the wound in his head that very little
attention had been given the house since my return from the East,
therefore it was not in the very best of order. It was closed during
my two months' absence, as Faye had lived down with the bachelors. The
very day that Mrs. Rae came the quartermaster had sent a man to repair
one of the chimneys, and plaster and dirt had been left in my room,
the one I had intended Mrs. Rae to occupy. And then, to make matters
just as bad as possible, there was a sand storm late in the afternoon
that had, of course, sifted dust over all things.
But this was not all! My nerves had not recovered from the shock at
Granada, and had given out entirely that day just before dinner, and
had sent me to bed with an uncomfortable chill.
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