When I arrived in Chicago, on my sixteenth birthday, May 26th, 1835, I landed on the north side of the present river, near its mouth, very near to the old John Kinzie homestead. I was escorted to the historic Cobweb Castle and the Dearborn Street bridge by the children of an old friend of my father's, Samuel Jackson, who was employed upon the north pier harbor work, and who had been an old neighbor in Buffalo, New York, where he had also been employed upon the government harbor. The little boy, Ezra, and the girl, Abigail, pointed out a grave situated a little to the north of our path and several hundred feet west of the Kinzie house. The grave was surrounded by a neat white picket fence. I passed it many times afterward, during that and the succeeding summer, and often visited it with children about my own age. The history of this lonely grave, as detailed by them, gave it a peculiar fascination to me, and to them, and to others who saw it. I recall now, after an interval of mere than half a century, a number of persons who visited this grave with me, among whom were the Indian wife of Captain Jamison; the wife of Lieut. Thompson, a half-breed woman; Virginia Baxley, daughter of Captain Baxley, of the fort; Pierre Laframboise, son of a chief and interpreter; Alexander Beaubien, son of a trader, and John C. Haines, who was also a clerk near me on South Water Street. The tradition in regard to this grave was that it was the last resting-place of a Frenchman named Lalime, who was government interpreter at the fort, and who was killed in an encounter with the old Indian-trader, John Kinzie. It was said that the officers of the garrison had the body buried in sight of Mr. Kinzie's house in resentment for his murder. But it seems that old Mr. Kinzie took the sting from this reproach by carefully tending the spot during his lifetime, and his son, John H. Kinzie, continued the same care over it.