anything of the sort, but I posted it down to Sherbrooke forthwith,
together with a note, making the best excuses I could for not having
delivered it before when I was on the spot, and of course I put my
address on the top. I should'nt wonder if one of the letters was the
lost introduction, which must have been left behind by some mistake.
We have been hunting about no end since we came here; calling on
everybody, from the man in the moon downwards, but do not at present
seem to have derived much benefit from it. I daresay Henry has told
you of a wild scheme in which Mr. Barnes wanted us to engage. He is
a most excellent old gentleman, the personification of good nature
and kindness, but is a good deal of a visionary on the agricultural
settlement question. When we called upon him on Saturday, he pressed
us most eloquently to up stick and go west with a friend or
connection of his, who was starting at nine o'clock on Monday
morning. He so far prevailed upon me that, in case there should be
anything in what he said, I went down to the bank and drew
sufficient money for our fares, and then returned to lunch with him
and the gentleman in question, a Mr. Deacon. In conversation with
him afterwards, he (Mr. Deacon) strongly advised us to do no such
thing. A branch line from the Canadian Pacific Railway, from Regina
to a place called Sussex, about thirty miles or so, which was to
have been graded this fall, and was to give me almost certain work
for the winter, would probably not be begun for some time, and the
land which Mr. Barnes had understood was along the railway in a
tolerably well-peopled district, turned out to be at the head of
Long Lake, eighty-four miles from Sussex, which is thirty miles from
Regina, not that those distances are anything great, but it meant,
in plain English, going and starting a farm 110 miles from the
nearest railway station, without a particle of knowledge or
experience. Still, we should have got the land for nothing; that