Thirty or forty years ago, in one those grey towns along the Burlington railroad which are so much greyer to-day than they were then, there was a house well know from Omaha to Denver for its hospitality and for a certain charm of atmosphere.

I don't want anyone reading my writing to think about style. I just want them to be in the story.

Henry Colbert, the miller, always breakfasted with his wife--beyond that he appeared irregularly at the family table.