Don't buy an old boat. There is a satisfaction in knowing that the timbers beneath you are sound and put together in the strongest possible manner, and amply able to withstand the fiercest trials they can possibly receive. Especially if women and children are to form part of your crew, you want to feel easy on the score of your boat. Have the boat built at a place like Henry, where well-selected lumber and honest work will go in the building. Have it brought to Chicago and start in the boat here. Do not have a boat more than sixteen feet wide, outside measure, that is to pass through the canal. Have the roof thoroughly watertight and the crevices about the base of the cabin protected by quarter-rounds and calking so that there will be no water leaking in there when waves wash over the deck. Have a good large open deck in front, for there you will live in pleasant weather. Get a good wood-burning stove for cooking--gasoline and oil are too expensive, when you get wood for nothing. Select your party with care; not everyone who goes into such a trip with enthusiasm will wear well, when living half a year in a boat with you. Leave out people who expect the luxuries of a well-appointed hotel. Limit the clothing for men and women to two suits each; one for the boat and one for town. You may not disturb the latter for months. If you can possibly avoid it, take no one in the party who drinks liquor even in moderation--certainly not in the crew. Every modification of this opens the door to trouble. If a guest takes his morning eye-opener the crew will want to do so; and some one of them may be of the sort that can not taste it without getting crazy drunk. It seemed to us that anyone of a mercantile turn could do a good business along the river; pay expenses and make money. Everywhere along the great river people boarded our boat, asking what we were selling. The men asked for whisky, the women for dry goods or dressmaking. At one landing a trader sold eighteen skiffs. On the Atchafalaya we passed a cabinboat bearing in large letters the title: "The White Elephant Saloon." We heard that this boat had given the authorities much trouble, but can not vouch for the truth of the report. She was selling liquor, evidently, and we gave her a wide berth. Melville was a temperance town, but there was a shanty across the river known as "the Goose," where liquor was sold, and a skiff ferry to it was well patronized. The owner was building a large cabinboat at a cost of $1,000, but for what purpose we could only presume; and our presumption was that it would be a profitable investment.