If a phrenologist should undertake to "read" my head, he would undoubtedly find my love ofhome-if that is what it is called-a sharply defined welt. I know that I watched the lights of oldFrisco slip behind me with as virulent a case of the deeps as often comes to a man when hisdigestion is good. It wasn't that I could not bear the thought of hardship; I've taken hunting trips upinto the mountains more times than I can remember, and ate ungodly messes of my own invention, and waded waist-deep in snow and slept under the stars, and enjoyed nearly every minute. So itwasn't the hardships that I had every reason to expect that got me down. I think it was the feelingthat dad had turned me down; that I was in exile, and-in his eyes, at least-disgraced, it wasknowing that he thought me pretty poor truck, without giving me a chance to be anything better. Ihumped over the rail at the stern, and watched the waves slap at us viciously, like an ill-temperedpoodle, and felt for all the world like a dog that's been kicked out into the rain. Maybe the medicinewas good for me, but it wasn't pleasant. It never occurred to me, that night, to wonder how dad feltabout it; but I've often thought of it since.I had a section to myself, so I could sulk undisturbed; dad was not small, at any rate, and, though hehadn't let me have his car, he meant me to be decently comfortable. That first night I slept without abreak; the second I sat in the smoker till a most unrighteous hour, cultivating the acquaintance of adrummer for a rubber-goods outfit. I thought that, seeing I was about to mingle with the workingclasses, I couldn't begin too soon to study them. He was a pretty good sort, too.The rubber-goods man left me at Seattle, and from there on I was at the tender mercies of my ownthoughts and an elderly lady with a startlingly blond daughter, who sat directly opposite me and wasfrankly disposed to friendliness. I had never given much time to the study of women, and so had noalternative but to answer questions and smile fatuously upon the blond daughter, and wonder if Iought to warn the mother that "clothes do not make the man," and that I was a black sheep and nota desirable acquaintance. Before I had quite settled that point, they left the train. I am afraid I amnot distinctly a chivalrous person; I hummed the Doxology after their retreating forms and retiredinto myself, with a feeling that my own society is at times desirable and greatly to be chosen.