An experience which is not very pleasant comes from the vermin, especially the fleas--not a refined word; but the most refined society gets accustomed to it here because they _have to do so_, and the more so the nearer they get to the native land of these animals--the Indians. I stood one evening and preached in one of their houses when I am satisfied that I scratched every half-minute during the service; for, although I stood them as long as I could, I could not help it. I would quietly take up one foot and rub it against the other, put my hand behind my back or in my pocket, and treat the creatures as gently as I could, and the like, so as not to attract any more attention than possible. But then Indian houses are not their only dwellings. At one place I once stayed at a white man’s house, who was as kind as he knew how to be: but backing for twenty years with very few neighbors except Indians is not very elevating; it is one of the trials of the hardy frontiersman. I tried to go to sleep--one bit; I kicked--he stopped; I shut my eyes--another wanted his supper; I scratched; and so we kept up the interminable warfare until three o’clock, when sleep conquered for two hours. The next day, on the strength of it, I preached twice, held a council, tramped five miles, and talked the rest of the time. That night mine host, having suspected something, proposed that we take our blankets and go to the barn. I was willing, and we all slept soundly; but the hay was a year old, and in that region sometimes innumerable small hay-lice get on it--a fact of which I was not aware. They did not trouble us during the night; but when we arose the next morning our clothes, which had lain on the hay, were covered with thousands of them. Every seam, torn place, button-hole, and turned-over place was crowded with the lilliputians. It took me three quarters of an hour to brush them from my clothes. However, it did not hurt the clothes or me. My better two-thirds would have said that they needed brushing. Twice while traveling to Jamestown have I been obliged, when within twenty miles of the place, to stop all day Saturday because of heavy head-winds, when I was exceedingly anxious to be at Jamestown over the Sabbath. That day was consequently spent not where I wished to be. It seemed to me to be a strange Providence; but I have since been inclined to believe that my example in not traveling on the Sabbath, when the Indians knew how anxious I was to reach the place, was worth more than the sermons I would have preached. The following appeared in _The Child’s Paper_ in January, 1878:--