His fat, notable spouse was trotting round, now stopping to scold about some one who, “burn his skin!” had fallen short in his duty; now laughing good-humoredly until her sides shook, at some witticism addressed to her.

She welcomed us very cordially, but to our inquiry, “Can you accommodate us?” her reply was, “Not I. I have got twice as many people now as I know what to do with.  I have had to turn my own family out of their quarters, what with the commissioners and the lot of folks that has come in upon us.”

“What are we to do, then?  It is too late and stormy to go up to Shanty-town to seek for lodgings.”

“Well, sit you down and take your supper, and we will see what we can do.”

And she actually did contrive to find a little nook, in which we were glad to take refuge from the multitudes around us.

A slight board partition separated us from the apartment occupied by General Root, of New York, one of the commissioners of the treaty.  The steamer in which we came had brought the mail, at that day a rare blessing to the distant settlements.  The opening and reading of all the dispatches, which the General received about bed-time, had, of course, to be gone through with, before he could retire to rest.  His eyes being weak, his secretaries were employed to read the communications.  He was a little deaf withal, and through the slight division between the two apartments the contents of the letters, and his comments upon them, were unpleasantly audible, as he continually admonished his secretary to raise his voice.

“What is that, Walter?  Read that over again.”

In vain we coughed and hemmed, and knocked over sundry pieces of furniture.  They were too deeply interested to hear aught that passed around them, and if we had been politicians we should have had all the secrets of the working-men’s party at our disposal, out of which to have made capital.

The next morning it was still rain! rain! nothing but rain!  In spite of it, however, the gentlemen would take a small boat to row to the steamer, to bring up the luggage, not the least important part of that which appertained to us being sundry boxes of silver for paying the annuities to the Winnebagoes at the Portage.

I went out with some others of the company upon the piazza, to witness their departure.  A gentleman pointed out to me Fort Howard, on a projecting point of the opposite shore, about three-quarters of a mile distant—­the old barracks, the picketed inclosure, the walls, all looking quaint, and, considering their modern erection, really ancient and venerable.  Presently we turned our attention to the boat, which had by this time gained the middle of the river.  One of the passengers was standing up in the stern, apparently giving some directions.

“That is rather a venturesome fellow,” remarked one; “if he is not careful he will lose his balance.”  And at this moment we saw him actually perform a summerset backward, and disappear in the water.