Behind the town, in the direction of the Cavan and Emily roads, is a wide space, which I call the “squatters’ ground,” it being entirely covered with shanties, in which the poor emigrants, commuted pensioners, and the like, have located themselves and families. Some remain here under the ostensible reason of providing a shelter for their wives and children, till they have prepared a home for their reception on their respective grants; but not unfrequently it happens that they are too indolent, or really unable to work on their lots, often situated many miles in the backwoods, and in distant and unsettled townships, presenting great obstacles to the poor emigrant, which it requires more energy and courage to encounter than is possessed by a vast number of them. Others, of idle and profligate habits, spend the money they received, and sell the land, for which they gave away their pensions, after which they remain miserable squatters in the shanty ground. The shanty is a sort of primitive hut in Canadian architecture, and is nothing more than a shed built of logs, the chinks between the round edges of the timbers being filled with mud, moss, and bits of wood; the roof is frequently composed of logs split and hollowed with the axe, and placed side by side, so that the edges rest on each other; the concave and convex surfaces being alternately uppermost, every other log forms a channel to carry off the rain and melting snow. The eaves of this building resemble the scalloped edges of a clam shell; but, rude as this covering is, it effectually answers the purpose of keeping the interior dry, far more so than the roofs formed of bark or boards, through which the rain will find entrance. Sometimes the shanty has a window, sometimes only an open doorway, which admits the light and lets out the smoke. A rude chimney, which is often nothing better than an opening cut in one of the top logs above the hearth, and a few boards fastened in a square form, serves as the vent for the smoke; the only precaution against the fire catching the log-walls behind the hearth being a few large stones, placed in a half circular form, or more commonly a bank of dry earth raised against the wall. Nothing can be more comfortless than some of these rude shanties, reeking with smoke and dirt, the common receptacle for children, pigs, and fowls. But I have given you the dark side of the picture; I am happy to say all the shanties on the squatters’ ground were not like these. On the contrary, by far the larger proportion were inhabited by tidy folks, and had one or even two small windows, and a clay chimney, regularly built up through the roof; some were even roughly floored, and possessed similar comforts with the small log-houses.