Virginia of Elk Creek Valley

"Never!" cried Priscilla fervently.

"It ain't no great sight!" returned the sophisticated brakeman.

"Perhaps not to you," Priscilla shouted in his ear, "but it would be if you had dreamed of seeing one for ten months and three-quarters the way I have."

"Humph!" grunted the brakeman again. "You must be a tenderfoot."

"I am," cried Priscilla, "and I'm glad of it! You can only see bran-new things once. The second time you see them they aren't new any longer, and can't give you thrills like the first time."

The brakeman grinned.

"There's some yucca," he shouted, pointing to a tall, straight plant with white, bell-shaped flowers growing by the track.

"What's that?" screamed the interested Priscilla.

"Sometimes folks call it Indian soap-weed," explained the brakeman in her ear, "because if you break the leaves they'll lather in water. And some folks call it Spanish bayonet. It grows in barren places out here."

"I'll put th