habitual petulance.

"That is what I am trying to do," said he. "If you will listen in silence,
I will give you all the explanation you want."

Here, my daughter, to save time, I will borrow my father's speech and tell
of the trip he had made to New Orleans; how he had there found means to
put into execution his journey to Attakapas, and the companions that were
to accompany him.




II.

MAKING UP THE EXPEDITION.


In 1795 New Orleans was nothing but a mere market town. The cathedral, the
convent of the Ursulines, five or six cafés, and about a hundred houses
were all of it.[6] Can you believe, there were but two dry-goods stores!
And what fabulous prices we had to pay! Pins twenty dollars a paper. Poor
people and children had to make shift with thorns of orange and
_amourette_ [honey locust?]. A needle cost fifty cents, very indifferent
stockings five dollars a pair, and other things accordingly.

On the levee was a little pothouse of the lowest sort; yet from that
unclean and smoky hole was destined to come one of the finest fortunes in
Louisiana. They called the proprietor "Père la Chaise."[7] He was a little
old marten-faced man, always busy and smiling, who every year laid aside