As we entered the building, my _cicerone_ very unexpectedly favoured me with an introduction to the minister. He was a dark, solemn-looking man, with a huge Bible and psalm-book choicely tucked under his left arm. After sundry glances at my dress and demeanour, and other sundry whisperings in the ear of my companion, the good man drew nigh, and delivered himself of the interrogatory, "Are you a clergyman, sir?" At this sage inquiry, so sagely administered, my rebellious lips struggled with a smile, which, I misdoubt me much, was not unobserved by the dark-looking minister; {219} for, upon my reply in the negative, he turned very unceremoniously away, and betook him to his pulpit. By-the-by, this had by no means been the first time I had been called to answer the same inquiry during my ramble in the West. On returning to our lodgings after service, we found quite a respectable congregation gathered around the signpost, to whom my pink of major domos was holding forth in no measured terms upon the propriety of "letting off the pig guns" at the dawning of the ever-memorable morrow,[148] "in honour of the tay when our old farders fought like coot fellows; they tid so, py jingoes; and I'll pe out at tree o'glock, py jingoes, I will so," raphsodied the little Dutchman, warming up under the fervour of his own eloquence. This subject was still the theme of his rejoicing when he marshalled me to my dormitory and wished me "pleashant treams." The first faint streak of crimson along the eastern heavens beheld me mounting at the door of the inn; and by my side was the patriotic domo, bowing, and ducking, and telling over all manner of kind wishes till I had evanished from view. A more precious relic of the true oldfashioned, swaggering, pot-bellied publican is rarely to be met, than that which I encountered in the person of the odd little genius whose peculiarities I have recounted: even the worthy old "Caleb of Ravenswood," that miracle of major domos, would not {220} have disowned my _Dutchy_ for a brother craftsman. The village of Hillsborough is a pleasant, healthy, thriving place; and being intersected by some of the most important state routes, will always remain a thoroughfare. An attempt has been made by one of its citizens to obtain for this place the location of the Theological Seminary now in contemplation in the vicinity rather than at Carlinville, and the offer he has made is a truly munificent one. The site proposed is a beautiful mound, rising on the prairie's edge south of the village, commanding a view for miles in every direction, and is far more eligible than any spot I ever observed in Carlinville.