butter rates well in the market, their chief dependence; and he, when he chooses to work, which he would much rather do for another than himself, can earn enough in one day, if he take truck, to keep him three, and but that he prefers fixing cucumbers to thrashing, and making moccasins to clearing land, he might do well enough.  Though poor, he is none the least inclined to grovel, but, with the spirit of his land, feels quite at ease in company with any judge or general in the country.

Having declined his invitation to enter the log erection,—­which in another country would hardly be styled a house, he having still delayed to enclose the gigantic frame, whose skeleton form was reared hard by—­he gave his opinion of the weather at present, with some shrewd guesses as to what it would be in future; regarding the smoke wreaths from the fires around (there were none on his land however), he said, it reminded him of the fire in Miramichi.  “How long is it, old woman,” said he, turning to his wife, who had now joined us, “since that ere burning?” “Well,” said she, “I aint exactly availed to tell you right off how many years it is since, but I guess our Jake was a week old when it happened.”

Now, as the burning of Miramichi was one of the most interesting historical events in the province records, we gave him the date, which was some twenty years since; this also gave us the sum of Jacob’s lustres—­rather few considering he had planted a tater patch on shares, and laid out to marry in the fall.

“Well,” said he, “You may depend that was a fire—­my hair curls yet when I think of it—­it was the same summer we got married, and Washington Welford having been out a timber-hunting with me the fall afore, we discovered a most elegant growth of pine—­I never see’d before nor since the equal on it—­regular sixty footers, every log on ’em—­the trees stood on the banks of the river, as if growing there on purpose to be handy for rafting, and we having got a first-rate supply from our merchants in town, toted our things with some of the old woman’s house trumpery to the spot—­we soon had up a shanty, and went to work in right airnest.  There was no mistake in Wash; he was as clever a fellow as ever I knowed, and as handsome a one—­seven feet without his shoes—­eyes like diamonds, and hair slick as silk; when he swung his axe among the timber, you may depend he looked as if he had a mind to do it—­our felling and hewing went on great, and with the old woman for cook we made out grand—­she, however, being rather delicate, we hired a help, a daughter of a neighbour about thirty miles off.  Ellen Ross was as smart a gal as ever was raised in these clearings—­her parents were old country folks, and she had most grand larning, and was out and out a regular first-rater.  Washington and her didn’t feel at all small together—­they took a liking to each other right away, and a prettier span was never geared.  Well, our Jake was born, and the old woman got smart,