“Dere is much to be l'arnt from ter pipe!” said Dirck, dropping into a slightly Dutch accent, as frequently happened with him, when his mind took a secret direction towards Holland, though in general he spoke English quite as well as I did myself, and vastly better than that miracle of taste, and learning, and virtue, and piety, Mr. Jason Newcome, A.B., of Yale, and prospective president of that, or some other institution. “So it would seem, if your father is telling you secrets all the time you are smoking together. But where is this land, Dirck?” “It is in the Mohawk country--or, rather, it is in the country near the Hampshire Grants, and at no great distance from the Mohawk country.” “And how much may there be of it?” “Forty thousand acres; and some of it of good, rich flats, they say; such as a Dutchman loves.” “And your father and mine have purchased all this land in company, you say--share and share alike, as the lawyers call it.” “Just so.” “Pray how much did they pay for so large a tract of land?” Dirck took time to answer this question. He first drew from his breast a pocket-book, which he opened as well as he could under the motion of his roadster, for neither of us abated his speed, it being indispensable to reach town before dark. My friend succeeded at length in putting his hand on the paper he wanted, which he gave to me. “There,” he said; “that is a list of the articles paid to the Indians, which I have copied, and then there have been several hundred pounds of fees paid to the Governor and his officers.” I read from the list, as follows; the words coming out by jerks, as the trotting of my horse permitted. “Fifty blankets, each with yellow strings and yellow trimmings; ten iron pots, four gallons each; forty pounds of gunpowder; seven muskets; twelve pounds of small beads; ten strings of wampum; fifty gallons of rum, pure Jamaica, and of high proof; a score of jews-harps, and three dozen first quality English-made tomahawks.” “Well, Dirck,” I cried, as soon as through reading, “this is no great matter to give for forty thousand acres of land, in the colony of New York. I dare say a hundred pounds currency ($250) would buy every thing here, even to the rum and the first quality of English-made tomahawks.” “Ninety-six pounds, thirteen shillings, seven pence 't'ree fart'in's' was the footing of the whole bill,” answered Dirck deliberately, preparing to light his pipe; for he could smoke very conveniently while trotting no faster than at the rate of six miles the hour. “I do not find that dear for forty thousand acres; I suppose the muskets, and rum, and other things were manufactured expressly for the Indian trade.” “Not they, Corny: you know how it is with the old gentlemen;--they are as honest as the day.” “So much the better for them, and so much the better for us! But what is to be done with this land, now they own it?”