sidence, with extensive
grounds.

A creek, called Hard Creek, runs along the road with several
mill-sites on it. It loses itself every now and then in deep woods;
and altogether this is the prettiest country I have ever seen in
Canada. The land also appears good.

At Beachville are saw, grist, and water-mills on an extensive scale,
the best in the country, owned and worked by Scotch people.

The creek called Little Thames is seen also, which runs through the
Canada Company's lands to the Forks of the Thames at London. This is a
settlement forty years old; consequently, every thing is forward in
it.

We then came through an equally fine, old-settled country, to
Ingersoll, five miles farther. This is a straggling place of about the
same age, with mills and creeks, and a large inn, called the Mansion
House (Hoffman's).

We drove on to Dorchester, a small settlement and an old mill-site,
about eighteen miles from London, where we stopped to recruit our
wretched horse, at half-past ten. Here we breakfasted at a roadside
inn, not very good nor very comfortable, but were glad to observe that
the plank road commenced again.

A plank road in England would be a curiosity indeed: here it is none:
fancy rolling along a floor of thick boards through field and forest
for a hundred miles. The boards are covered with earth, or gravel, if
it can be had, and this deadens the noise and prevents the wear and
tear, so that you glide along pretty much the same as a child's
go-cart goes over the carpet. But this will only do where wood is
plentiful, and thus the time must come, even in Canada, when gravelled
roads or iron rails will supersede it.

The country was poorer in this section, being very sandy, until near
the tavern called Westminster Hall; what a name! But the beautiful
little river was occasionally in sight in a hollow of woods of the
richest foliage. At one place we saw a party of Indians with ponies
and goods, going down to a ford, where no doubt their canoes awaited
them. Their appearance as they descended was very picturesque, armed
as they were with rifles and fowling-pieces, very Salvator Rosaish.

Westminster Hall, where we arrived at ten minutes to two o'clock, and
staid an hour to bait, is six miles and a half from London. Cockney
land everywhere.

On our approaching the new capital of the London District, we saw
evident signs of recent exertions. Fine turnpike-gates, excellent
roads, arbours for pic-nic part