he started for the seat of Government, and assisted the Governor to rivet the chains more firmly, and for the future to preclude any possibility on the part of the settlers to pursue a similar course. The reply conveyed the impression that the whole township was the Chief's. "The arrangements made between The McNab and his followers are of a purely private nature, and beyond the control of the Government." How came Sir Francis to utter so gross a falsehood? Every buffoon and half-fledged harlequin is a liar, and Sir F. B. Head, impregnated with the spirit of braggadocio, scrupled at no falsehood, when he could turn a period, serve a friend, or carry out a purpose. It was this overweening vanity that caused him to insult the United States Government, and subsequently to lose his own situation, when he said in his memorable speech to the Legislature, speaking of the people of the United States, "In the name of every militia-man in the Province, I say, let them come if they dare." But this reply to the poor settlers did not alone satisfy the schemes of the Chief or his friends, the Family Compact. They were resolved to strike terror into their hearts, and make public the petition and reply. Accordingly both documents were ordered by the Executive to be printed, and four hundred copies were sent to be distributed among the people. They saw that further efforts with their present rulers would be useless; and they bowed quietly to the decision, waiting for better times, and these soon offered by the recall of Sir F. Head and the mission of the Earl of Durham. The Chief had now entirely abandoned his Kennell residence on the banks of the Ottawa, and was now residing at Waba Cottage, White Lake, where he was preparing to erect a saw-mill. A characteristic anecdote is told of him, which is literally true. Meeting Mr. Walter McFarlane in one of the houses of the settlers with whom he had not quarrelled, and impressed with his robust and ruddy appearance, he addressed him with a polite bow and said:-- "Well, my man, you're a good-looking fellow. Are you a Highlander, too?" "Yes, Chief," said Walter. "And what may your name be, my fine fellow?" "Walter McFarlane," was the reply; "you ought to know me; I am the son of James McFarlane, one of your first settlers." "Ah!" said the Chief, turning away from him with a frown, and blowing a snort like a porpoise--his usual habit when angry--"bad weeds grow fast," and immediately left the house.