On the 6th of December I remember coming home from Mr. Renville's, where we had been all the afternoon obtaining translations. Then there was hurrying to and fro, and the first baby came into our family of two. From that time on we were three, and the little Zitkadan-Washta, as the Indians named him, grew as other children grow, and did what most children don't do, _viz._, learn to go _down_ stairs before he did _up_, because we lived upstairs, and all children can manage to go away from home, when they can't or won't come back of themselves. In those years our annual allowance from the treasury of the board was $250. This was more than the other families in the mission had proportionally. But it required considerable economy and great care in expenditure to make the ends meet. Not knowing the price of quinine, and thinking four ounces could not be a great amount, we were much surprised to find the bill $16. But Dr. Turner of Fort Snelling kindly took it off our hands. Once we were discussing the question of how much additional expense the baby would be, when I said, "About two dollars." Thereafter Mr. S. W. Pond, who was present at the time, called the boy "Mazaska nonpa." A PLEASANT TRIP. In the second month of 1840, our _three_ became _four_. And when the leaves came out and the flowers began to appear, the mother had a great desire to go somewhere. But the only place to go was to Fort Snelling. And so, leaving Chaskay and taking Hapan, we crossed the prairie to the Traverse des Sioux in company with Mr. Renville's caravan. The expectation was that the fur company's boat would be there. But it was not; nor even a canoe, save a little leaky one, which barely aided us in crossing the St. Peters. The journey through the Big Woods was over logs and through swamps and streams for seventy-five miles. We had two horses but no saddle. Our tent and bedding and such things as we must have on the journey were strapped on the horses. The mother rode one,--not very comfortable, as may be supposed,--but the baby girl had a better ride on a Dakota woman's back. At the end of ten miles, "le grand canoe" was found, in which they took passage. That ten miles was destined to be remembered by our return also; for there where the town of Le Sueur now stands our bark canoe finally failed us, and, without an Indian woman to carry the baby, we walked up to the Traverse, through the wet grass. Altogether, that was a trip to be remembered. One other thing comes to my mind about our first "little lady." There was only one window in our upstairs room. On the outside of that the mother had a shelf fixed to set out milk on. One morning, when every one was busy or out, the little girl, not two years old, climbed out of the window and perched herself on that shelf. It gave us a good scare. JOURNEY TO NEW ENGLAND.