n front of the fire to bake. It seemed to
me that even with the aid of this fine, bright fire, the dinner took an
unconscionable time to cook; but cooked it was, at last, and truly might
the good woman stare at the travellers' appetites we had brought with
us. She did not know what short commons we had been on for the last two
days.

We found, upon inquiry, that we could, by pushing on, reach Lawton's, on
the Aux Plaines, that night--we should then be within twelve miles of
Chicago. Of course we made no unnecessary delay, but set off as soon
after dinner as possible.

The crossing of the east fork of the Du Page was more perilous than the
former one had been. The ice had become broken, either by the force of
the current, or by some equestrians having preceded us and cut through
it, so that when we reached the bank, the ice was floating down in large
cakes. The horses had to make a rapid dart through the water, which was
so high, and rushing in such a torrent, that if I had not been mounted
on Jerry, the tallest horse in the cavalcade, I must have got a terrible
splashing.

As it was, I was well frightened, and grasped both bridle and mane with
the utmost tenacity. After this we travelled on as rapidly as possible,
in order to reach our place of destination before dark.

Mr. Dogherty, a tall, bolt-upright man, half Quaker, half Methodist, did
his best to entertain me, by giving me a thorough schedule of his
religious opinions, with the reasons from Scripture upon which they were
based. He was a good deal of a perfectionist, and evidently looked upon
himself with no small satisfaction, as a living illustration of his
favorite doctrine.

"St. John says," this was the style of his discourse, "St. John says,
'He that is born of God, doth not commit sin' Now, _if_ I am born of
God, I do not commit sin."

I was too cold and too weary to argue the point, so I let him have it
all his own way. I believe he must have thought me rather a dull
companion; but at least he gave me the credit of being a good listener.

It was almost dark when we reached Lawton's. The Aux Plaines[20] was
frozen, and the house was on the other side. By loud shouting, we
brought out a man from the building, and he succeeded in cutting the
ice, and bringing a canoe over to us; but not until it had become
difficult to distinguish objects in the darkness.

A very comfortable house was Lawton's, after we did reach it--carpeted,
and with a warm stove-