Through the kind offices of the Superintendent of the Algoma Railroad we had been able to secure accommodations with a forest ranger, who had a comfortable cabin and was an excellent cook. It was the only building for many miles around, and Edwards, the ranger, must know some lonely hours, especially during the long winters. Lest others may share the delusion of a friend who said that he wondered we did not starve at such a long distance from market, listen to the bill of fare: plenty of good bread and butter, eggs, bacon, toast, trout, with blueberries and raspberries _ad libitum_. Less than eighty rods away was a lumber camp where we could get milk and cream, and in return for trout the cook kept us supplied with delicious blueberry pies. The man who is on friendly terms with the cook for a logging camp need never suffer from hunger. The first night after our arrival we were awakened by a knocking at the door. Upon being admitted the visitor told of a sick child which had been brought up from the city in hopes that the change might prove beneficial. The mother and child were living in a tent and they feared the little one was dying. Had we any medicine? We had, and he departed with it. The next morning the baby was reported as being better, and the following Sunday when we were invited to dinner at the logging camp, the mother and child were at table with us. When we saw that mother feeding baked beans, boiled ham, pickles and pie, to a child that had recently been at the point of death with cholera infantum, we had an unexpressed conviction that it would take something more than cholera-mixture to save the child this time. However, so far as we could learn, the little one survived in spite of its mother’s folly. Possibly ham and pie are specifics in this disease.