built it up again, and, all things considered, are as comfortable as we
could expect: and have christened our settlement New London, in
compliment to the old metropolis. We have one of the log-houses to
ourselves--or at least shall have, when we have built a new hog-sty. We
burnt down the first one in making a bonfire to keep off the wild
beasts, and, for the present, the pigs are in the parlour. As yet our
rooms are rather usefully than elegantly furnished. We have gutted the
Grand Upright, and it makes a convenient cupboard; the chairs were
obliged to blaze at our bivouacs--but thank Heaven, we have never
leisure to sit down, and so do not miss them. My boys are contented, and
will be well when they have got over some awkward accidents in lopping
and felling. Mrs. P. grumbles a little, but it is her custom to lament
most when she is in the midst of comforts: she complains of solitude,
and says she could enjoy the very stiffest of stiff visits. The first
time we lighted a fire in our new abode, a large serpent came down the
chimney, which I looked upon as a good omen. However, as Mrs. P. is not
partial to snakes, and the heat is supposed to attract those reptiles,
we have dispensed with fires ever since. As for wild beasts, we hear
them howling and roaring round the fence every night from dusk till
daylight; but we have only been inconvenienced by one lion. The first
time he came, in order to get rid of the brute peaceably, we turned out
an old ewe, with which he was well satisfied, but ever since he comes to
us as regular as clock-work for his mutton; and if we do not soon
contrive to cut his acquaintance, we shall hardly have a sheep in the
flock. It would have been easy to shoot him, being well provided with
muskets; but Barnaby mistook our remnant of gunpowder for onion seed,
and sowed it all in the kitchen garden. We did try to trap him into a
pit-fall; but after twice catching Mrs. P. and every one of the children
in turn, it was given up. They are now, however, perfectly at ease about
the animal, for they never stir out of doors at all; and, to make them