Upon leaving La Salle at three o'clock in the afternoon, I was told that I would have no difficulty in securing accommodations for myself and horse at Hollowayville, so, with the assurance of finding everything lovely here, I jogged along over the intervening twelve miles at my leisure. My feelings can better be imagined than described when, on my arrival at the little hamlet, I was looked upon with suspicion. The simple-minded inhabitants hinted that I might possibly be a "highwayman" or a "horse thief," or, for aught they knew, one of the James or Younger brothers. These desperadoes were then exciting the people on both sides of the Mississippi and my equipment, set off with high top boots and gauntlets, with the peculiar trappings of my horse, only made matters worse. Finding it impossible to secure lodging in the village, I rode on into the country, stopping at a farm house which looked inviting. I entered the front yard slowly and with dignity to dispel the horse thief suspicion. The farmer's daughter, a young girl of seventeen or eighteen years, and a few farm hands, stood about, of whom I asked if the master of the place was at home. The girl took me within, and Monsieur and Madame Croisant received me. They were both in bed, ill, but looking quite comfortable with their heads pointing in different directions. They carried on a lively conversation in French, the daughter interpreting, and in conclusion, after assuring them that I was a harmless person, very tired and hungry, they decided, if the clergyman of the place thought it safe, that I might stay with them. The dominie was called, looked me over a few minutes, cross-questioned me, and approved. My room that night was unique in more ways than one and would have been punishment enough for Jesse James himself. When I retired I detected a strong odor in the room and found it due to a collection of _sabots_, or wooden shoes, seemingly centuries old, which were arranged in a row under my bed. What to do with them was a question, as, under the circumstances, I did not think it best to tamper with the feelings of my host and hostess. As my room was on the ground floor, I decided to place the _sabots_ carefully outside under the window and take them in in the morning before the family was up. Unfortunately it rained and I overslept, so the shoes were discovered full of water before I appeared. However, nothing was said and I ate my breakfast in peace, the good people probably thanking their stars that they and their house had not been robbed. Before leaving in the morning the _La Salle County Press_ was handed me by Miss Croisant, in which I read the following flattering notice of my lecture in that city and which in some measure compensated for my unpleasant reception at Hollowayville: