manner of her nation.

The society at the boarding house entertained, being of a kind entirely
new to me. There were many traders from the remote stations, such as La
Pointe, Arbre Croche,--men who had become half wild and wholly rude, by
living in the wild; but good-humored, observing, and with a store of
knowledge to impart, of the kind proper to their place.

There were two little girls here, that were pleasant companions for me.
One gay, frank, impetuous, but sweet and winning. She was an American,
fair, and with bright brown hair. The other, a little French Canadian,
used to join me in my walks, silently take my hand, and sit at my feet
when I stopped in beautiful places. She seemed to understand without a
word; and I never shall forget her little figure, with its light, but
pensive motion, and her delicate, grave features, with the pale, clear
complexion and soft eye. She was motherless, and much left alone by her
father and brothers, who were boatmen. The two little girls were as
pretty representatives of Allegro and Penseroso, as one would wish to
see.

I had been wishing that a boat would come in to take me to the Sault St.
Marie, and several times started to the window at night in hopes that
the pant and dusky-red light crossing the waters belonged to such an
one; but they were always boats for Chicago or Buffalo, till, on the
28th of August, Allegro, who shared my plans and wishes, rushed in to
tell me that the General Scott had come, and, in this little steamer,
accordingly, I set off the next morning.

I was the only lady, and attended in the cabin by a Dutch girl and an
Indian woman. They both spoke English fluently, and entertained me much
by accounts of their different experiences.

The Dutch girl told me of a dance among the common people at Amsterdam,
called the shepherd's dance. The two leaders are dressed as shepherd and
shepherdess; they invent to the music all kinds of movements,
descriptive of things that may happen in the field, and the rest were
obliged to follow. I have never heard of any dance which gave such free
play to the fancy as this. French dances merely describe the polite
movements of society; Spanish and Neapolitan, love; the beautiful
Mazurkas, &c., are warlike or expressive of wild scenery. But in this
one is great room both for fun and fancy.

The Indian was married, when young, by her parents, to a man she did not
love. He became dissipated, and did not maintain her. She le