The grass is up." "Well, we'd have to wait for Molly to end her spring term, teaching in Clay School, in Liberty," rejoined his wife, "else why'd we send her there to graduate?
Twelve dollars a month, cash money, ain't to be sneezed at." "No; nor is two thousand miles of trail between here and Oregon, before snow, to be sneezed at, either.

If Molly ain't with those wagons I'll send Jed over for her to-day.

If I'm going to be captain I can't hold the people here on the river any longer, with May already begun." "She'll be here to-day," asserted his wife.

"She said she would.
Besides, I think that's her riding a little one side the road now.

Not that I know who all is with her.