Everything was ready. The ball opened with three "French fours," or two over. They danced a French two, the music consisting of one old violin with three strings, played by a half-breed from St. Croix Falls. He played but one tune and called it, "Off she goes to Miramachee." This carried a "French four" well enough, but when we danced a cotillion or hornpipe there was a great deal of rolling around instead of dancing. We often called for a new tune. "Oh, yes, gentlemen, you shall have him," but when we got him it was the same old "Off she goes." He worked hard to please the company and the sweat rolled down his manly cheeks like the droppings from the eaves of a saw mill; but all this would not do; it was the same old "Off she goes." There were twenty-four couples at the ball. The ladies brought with them their babies, fourteen in number, and ranging from six weeks to six months old. The night passed merrily, uproariously, but without tragic incident. The fiddler became at last so tipsy that he could no longer play "Off she goes to Miramachee," and staggered off to that locality himself. The only thing direful occurred at the breaking up, about five o'clock in the morning. The fourteen babies had been laid to sleep on a bed, but some malevolent genius during the dance mixed them up and changed their wraps, so that the mothers, in the hurry of their departure, gathered and took home with them each one some other mother's darling, and this deponent saith not that the snarl has ever been untangled and the babies restored to their rightful mothers. With the year 1848 a new era dawned upon Stillwater and the valley of the St. Croix. Great changes had taken place in the little town. There were many new citizens, new buildings had been erected and the streets were much improved. Slabs had been placed over the quagmires on Main street. A stage route had been established to St. Paul, on which stages ran regularly. This was the first stage route in Minnesota.