I don't know what made me think so, but I remember I _did_ rather surmise that it was just as well for us. _Something_ made me think of a shrew. Presently, while my wife was spreading the table (i.e. a short bench, usually a seat) for our supper, I observed the old man seated on something, with a plate on his knees, plying his hunting-knife on some cold meat and corn bread for his. I suppose the children had eaten before our arrival. We had, I believe, our provision-box and an inverted half bushel for seats, and ate our supper with commendable appetites; for by this time I think my wife's fears were sensibly abated. At length bedtime came, and what should be done? There was a bed, or something like one, in a corner, but that would hardly accommodate all five of us and the baby. Soon, however, that doubt was solved. The girl spread a pallet on the floor, taking the straw bed for the purpose; and the feather bed--yes, _feather_ bed--was made up on the bedstead for us. That bedstead would be a curious affair, doubtless, in a Philadelphia furniture store. I will endeavour to describe it. It consisted of one post and three rails; or rather, what was intended to correspond with those parts of a bedstead. The post aforesaid was a round pole, with the bark on, reaching from the floor to the joist or rafter, inserted at top and bottom into auger-holes. At a convenient height, a branch cut off not quite close on each of two sides, formed a rest for two of the poles that served for a side and foot rail, the other end being inserted in auger-holes in the logs which constituted the wall of the house. One end of the other side-rail rested on the foot-rail. Across the two longest poles, or side-rails, split clapboards rested; and on the scaffold thus formed, the bed was made. I remember that it was comparatively clean; and the bedstead being quite elastic, and my wife's fears now entirely removed by the cheerful consent of our host to unite in family devotion, we slept well and soundly: while the family reposed no doubt quite as sweetly on their bed on the floor. After we had breakfasted, our host, for whom we saw no more preparation than on the night before, piloted us through a grove of tall trees to the Kaskaskia Road, and pointed out our course; when we went on our way rejoicing, and saw that day, for the first time, a herd of seven wild deer together. But the old man! What became of him? Didn't you pay him? He turned homeward, and we saw him no more. We did pay him his full charge, amounting to twenty-five cents! I do not think my wife was ever afraid of a man after that, because he looked rough in his dress. As for Amy, she had the hooping-cough; I don't remember how soon, but she survived it; and has weaned her eighth baby. Does the reader want an apology for a dull story? "Story--God bless you, I have none to tell."