Aurora Borealis
Getting into the Ice
Conclusion

These sketches of the Backwoods of New Brunswick are intended to
illustrate the individual and national characteristics of the settlers,
as displayed in the living pictures and legendary tales of the country.
They have been written during the short intervals allowed from domestic
toils, and may, perhaps, have little claim to the attention of the
public, save that of throwing a faint light upon the manners and customs
of that little-known, though interesting, appendage of the British
empire. A long residence in that colony having given me ample means of
knowing and of studying them in all their varying hues of light and
shade. There, in the free wide solitude of that fair land whose youthful
face "seems wearing still the first fresh fragrance of the world," the
fadeless traces of character, peculiar to the dwellers of the olden
climes, are brought into close contrast with the more original feelings
of the "sons of the soil," both white and red, and are there more fully
displayed than in the mass of larger communities. Of political, or depth
of topographical information, the writer claims no share, and much of
deep interest, or moving incident, cannot now be expected in the life of
a settler in the woods. The days when the war-whoop of the Indian was
yelled above the burning ruins of the white man's dwelling are
gone--their memory exists but in the legend of the winter's eve, and
the struggle is now with the elements which form the climate; the
impulse of "going a-head" giving impetus to people's "getting
along"--forcing the woods to bow beneath their sturdy stroke, and fields
to shine with ripened grain, where erst the forest shadows fell; or
floating down the broad and noble streams the tall and stately pine,
taken from the ancient bearded wilderness to bear the might of England's
fame to earth and sea's remotest bounds.

New Brunswick is partly settled by French Acadians from the adjoining
province of Nova Scotia, but these, generally speaking, form a race by
themselves, and mingle little with the others, still retaining the
peculiarities of their nation, although long separated from it--they
like gaiety and amusement more than work, and consequently are rather
poorer than the other inhabitants; but, of course, there are exceptions.
In the winter I have often seen them on their way to market, with loads
of frozen oysters, packed in barrels, and moss cranber