“We've got to move, an' conversation won't carry us. To get down to plain language, have you any money?” “Eight dollars and forty-three cents,” I answered. “The report is accepted,” Mr. Pearl went on. “It is as good as a million dollars. We'll go down to the lake an' take a steamer, get off at Sackett's, walk a few miles, an' proceed with our own steam.” It was arranged, with the hearty concurrence of H. M. Pearl, Esq., that Mr. McCarthy should go with us. “It will give me a rest, and I can put some agents at work in your part of the country,” said the latter. We set out together, and got to Sackett's Harbor next day. It was a long walk to the beach at Anderson's, where the big canoe of my friend was lying. He had left a small tent and two horse-blankets in a house near by. Mr. McCarthy bought a basket of provisions at a store, and soon after noon of the second day of our journey we were all aboard and headed down the river, Mr. Pearl in the stern seat and I in the bow. We two had paddles, while Mr. McCarthy sat amidships near the dog, pushing further into the sea of knowledge with his grammar and dictionary. We went on with a steady stroke, and a light breeze behind us. It was a cloudless day, and the cool, crystal floor of the river chasm tempered the heat of the sun. “I am in pursuit of history,” Mr. McCarthy remarked soon. “Well, if you get acquainted with history, by-an'-by history is apt to get acquainted with you,” Mr. Pearl remarked. “I have here a pack of white cards,” Mr. McCarthy went on. “Every one contains a fact. I'll read a few of them to show you what I mean. Number one says, 'Columbus discovered America, 1492 '; number two says, 'The French settled at Quebec in 1608'; number three says, 'The Spanish settled at St. Augustine in 1565,' and so on. Here's a hundred cards and a hundred facts. First, I put 'em all in one coat-pocket. Every day I take out a card and learn what's on it, and put it into another pocket, and keep the pack moving.” “Have you got it down that H. M. Pearl, Esquire, was born at Machias, Maine, in 1817?” was a query that came from' the stem seat. “No; Hildreth says that all history is necessarily incomplete,” Mr. McCarthy answered, with a laugh. “I like that word _incomplete_. It has a good sound to it. I've got my book full of new words. Say, what's a horruck? It ain't in my dictionary.” I explained the term, which he had overheard in Pearl's talk at Graham's. The islands were now thick around us, and we landed in a little cove on one of them, and went up under the shade of the trees for a bite of luncheon. “There's power for ye,” said Mr. Pearl, with a glance at the river sweeping by us. “Lord! she's like a belt off the world's engine.”