For instance, M. Rolette was called by them “Ah-kay-zaup-ee-tah,” five more—­because, as they said, let them offer what number of skins they might, in bartering for an article, his terms were invariably “five more”

Upon one occasion a lady remarked to him, “Oh, M. Rolette, I would not be engaged in the Indian trade; it seems to me a system of cheating the poor Indians.”

“Let me tell you, madame,” replied he, with great naivete, “it is not so easy a thing to cheat the Indians as you imagine.  I have tried it these twenty years, and have never succeeded!”

* * * * *

We were now settled down to a quiet, domestic life.  The military system under which everything was conducted—­the bugle-call, followed by the music of a very good band, at reveille; the light, animated strains for “sick-call,” and soon after for “breakfast;” the longer ceremony of “guard-mounting;” the “Old English Roast-Beef,” to announce the dinner-hour; the sweet, plaintive strains of “Lochaber no more,” followed most incongruously by “The Little Cock-Sparrow,” at retreat; and, finally, the long, rolling “tattoo,” late in the evening—­made pleasant divisions of our time, which, by the aid of books, music, and drawing, in addition to household occupations, seemed to fly more swiftly than ever before.  It was on Sunday that I most missed my Eastern home.  I had planned beforehand what we should do on the first recurrence of this sacred day, under our own roof.  “We shall have at least,” said I to myself, “the Sabbath’s quiet and repose, and I can, among other things, benefit poor Louisa by giving her some additional lessons of a serious character.”

So, while she was removing the breakfast-things, I said to her,—­

“Now, Louisa, get your work all finished, and everything put neatly aside, and then come here to me again.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

We sat down to our books, and read and waited; we waited and read another hour—­no Louisa.

There was music and the sound of voices on the parade in front of our windows, but that did not disturb us; it was what we were daily accustomed to.

I must go at length, and see what could be keeping my damsel so.  I descended to the kitchen.  The breakfast-things stood upon the table—­the kettles and spider upon the hearth—­the fire was out—­the kitchen empty.

Passing back into the hall, which extended the whole length of the house and opened in front upon the parade, I perceived a group collected in the area, of all shades and colors, and in the midst, one round, woolly head which I could not mistake, bobbing up and down, now on this side, now on that, while peals of laughter were issuing from the whole group.

“Louisa,” I called, “come here.  What are you doing there?”

“Looking at inspection.”

“But why are not your breakfast-things washed, and your kitchen swept?  Did I not tell you I wished you to come up and learn your lessons?”