As I felt a great curiosity to see the interior of a log-house, I entered the open door-way of the tavern, as the people termed it, under the pretext of buying a draught of milk.  The interior of this rude dwelling presented no very inviting aspect.  The walls were of rough unhewn logs, filled between the chinks with moss and irregular wedges of wood to keep out the wind and rain.  The unplastered roof displayed the rafters, covered with moss and lichens, green, yellow, and grey; above which might be seen the shingles, dyed to a fine mahogany-red by the smoke which refused to ascend the wide clay and stone chimney, to curl gracefully about the roof, and seek its exit in the various crannies and apertures with which the roof and sides of the building abounded.

The floor was of earth, which had become pretty hard and smooth through use.  This hut reminded me of the one described by the four Russian sailors that were left to winter on the island of Spitzbergen.  Its furniture was of corresponding rudeness; a few stools, rough and unplaned; a deal table, which, from being manufactured from unseasoned wood, was divided by three wide open seams, and was only held together by its ill-shaped legs; two or three blocks of grey granite placed beside the hearth served for seats for the children, with the addition of two beds raised a little above the ground by a frame of split cedars.  On these lowly couches lay extended two poor men, suffering under the wasting effects of lake-fever.  Their yellow bilious faces strangely contrasted with the gay patchwork-quilts that covered them.  I felt much concerned for the poor emigrants, who told me they had not been many weeks in the country when they were seized with the fever and ague.  They both had wives and small children, who seemed very miserable.  The wives also had been sick with ague, and had not a house or even shanty of their own up; the husbands having fallen ill were unable to do anything; and much of the little money they had brought out with them had been expended in board and lodging in this miserable place, which they dignified by the name of tavern.  I cannot say I was greatly prepossessed in favour of their hostess, a harsh, covetous woman.  Besides the various emigrants, men, women, and children, that lodged within the walls, the log-house had tenants of another description.  A fine calf occupied a pen in a corner; some pigs roamed grunting about in company with some half-dozen fowls.  The most attractive objects were three snow-white pigeons, that were meekly picking up crumbs, and looking as if they were too pure and innocent to be inhabitants of such a place.

Owing to the shallowness of the river at this season, and to the rapids, the steam-boat is unable to go up the whole way to Peterborough, and a scow or rowboat, as it is sometimes termed—­a huge, unwieldy, flat-bottomed machine—­meets the passengers at a certain part of the river, within sight of a singular pine tree on the right bank; this is termed the “Yankee bonnet,” from the fancied resemblance of the topmost boughs to a sort of cap worn by the Yankees, not much unlike the blue bonnet of Scotland.