re appears, amid their density, some lonely settlement
or improvement of adventurous emigrant. Those little spots, of how much
importance to their owners, yet seem as nothing amid the vast forest.
Each dwelling in this country is in itself a theme for study and
interest. Here, on one side, is the home of an English settler--amid all
the bustle and chopping and burning of a new farm, he has found time to
plant a few fruit trees, and has now a flourishing young orchard, and a
garden wherein are herbs of "fragrant smell and spicy taste," to give a
warm relish to the night's repast. For the cultivation of a garden the
natives, unless the more opulent of them, seem to care little; and
outside the dwelling of a blue nose there is little to be seen, unless
it be a cucumber bed among the chips, or a patch of Indian corn. Again,
the Scotch settlers may be known by the taste shown in selecting a
garden spot--a gentle declivity, sloping to a silvery stream, by which
stand a few household trees that he has permitted to remain--beneath
them a seat is placed, and in some cherished spot, watched over with the
tenderest care, is an exotic sprig of heath or broom. About the
Hibernian's dwelling may be a mixture of all these differing tastes,
while perhaps a little of the national ingenuity may be displayed in a
broken window, repaired with an old hat, or an approximation towards
friendliness between the domestic animals and the inmates. With the
interior of these dwellings one is agreeably surprised, they (that is,
generally speaking), appear so clean and comfortable. Outside the logs
are merely hewed flat, and the interstices filled up with moss and clay,
the roof and ends being patched up with boards and bark, or anything to
keep out the cold. They certainly look rough enough, but within they are
ceiled above and around with smooth shining boards; there are no walls
daubed with white-wash, nor floors strewn with vile gritty sand, which
last certainly requires all the sanctity of custom to render it
endurable, but the walls and floors are as bright and clean as the
scrubbing-brush and plenty of soap can make them. This great accessary
to cleanliness, _soap_, is made at home in large quantities, the ashes
of the wood burnt in the fire-place making the "ley," to which is added
the coarser fat and grease of the animals used for home consumption. It
costs nothing but the trouble of making, and the art is little. As
regards cleanliness, the n