February twenty-third: Yesterday was Washington's Birthday, but quiet here. Today Mollie and I took Jennie and Charlie out on a sled with Muky to push behind at the handle-bar through the soft, deep snow. Mollie sat upon the sled, and rode down hill twice with the children, Muky hopping on behind; but I took a few kodak views of them, which I hope will be good. I also received some mail from the outside which was written last November. Some of the men in the hotel have tried to play what they call "a joke" on me. The steward of the house has a key which unfastens the lock on my door, as well as others; so they went into my room and tied a string to the foot of my bed, first boring a hole through the boards into the hall, and running the string through it. This string, I suppose, they intended to pull in the night and frighten me; but Mollie and I happened to go up there for something and found it. I was indignant, but everybody of whom Mollie inquired denied knowing anything of it, and I said very little. Going to my trunk afterwards, I found that the lock had been picked and broken,--a pretty severe "joke," and one I do not relish, as now I have no place in which to keep anything from these men. If they enter my room whenever they choose in the daytime, what is to prevent them when I am asleep? I took Mollie upstairs and showed her the broken lock, and she stooped to brush some white hairs from her dark wool skirt. "Where they come from?" she asked suddenly. Then, picking at the reindeer skin upon the floor under her feet, she said, nodding her head decidedly, "I know. He--Sim--come to me in sewing-room,--hair all same this on two knees of blank pants. I say, 'Where you get white reindeer hair on you, Sim?' He say, 'I don't know.' Sim make hole in wall, and string on bed for you, Mrs. Sullivan. He make lock peeluk, too," and Mollie's face wore a serious and worried expression. "O, well, Mollie," said I, "don't worry. I shall say nothing to any of the men as they are mad at me now." Mollie nodded significantly and said: "Your fox skins peeluk, Mrs. Sullivan. Sim knows where--he never tell--sell for whiskey, maybe," and Mollie turned to go, as though he were a hopeless case, and beyond her government. "Yes, Mollie, I think so; but you can not help what these bad men do. I know that, and do not blame you." "My husband very sorry 'bout fox skins. He cannot find--he no blame," and she seemed to fear that I would attach some blame to the captain. "No, indeed, Mollie, I don't think your husband can help what they do. I should not have left my fox skins hanging in that room, and will be careful in future, but if they come into my room they may steal other things, and I do not like it." "I know, I know,--Sim no good--Joe no good--Bub no good," and she went away in a very depressed state of mind to Jennie and Apuk's baby.