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not prose.
To be cold, and hungry, and worn with journeying, could not efface the great interest and pleasure....
I was soon told that a gentleman was anxious to speak with me concerning my land at
Grasshopper, which borders immediately upon his own.
Judge Van Winkle accordingly, with due permission, waited upon me, and unfolded his errand.
Grasshopper, he said, was a growing place.
It possessed already a store and an apothecary.
It had now occasion for a schoolhouse, and one corner of my land offered the most convenient place for such an institution.
The town did not ask me to give this land — it was willing to pay a fair price for the two acres wanted.
Wishing to learn a little more about the township, I asked whether it possessed the requisite variety of creeds.
“Have you a Baptist, a Methodist, an Episcopalian, and a Universalist church?”
“No,” said my visitor, “we have no church at all. People who wish to preach can do so in some private house.”
I afterwards learn that
Judge Van Winkle is a student of
Plato; who knows what may be his Hellenic heresy?
He is endorsed, however, by others as a good, solid man, and the proposition for the schoolhouse receives my favorable consideration.
My first visit to
Leavenworth was a stay of a couple of hours between trains, on my way to
southern Kansas.
Short as this was, it yet brought to my acquaintance