over the floor; however, they soon learned how to perform their part of
the game, and began scrambling for the good things as eagerly as any
English children.

The Indians, although to all appearance so grave and stoical, have a
fund of quiet wit and humour about them, and are even sometimes quite
boisterous in their merriment. Joseph Wawanosh, the Chief's eldest son,
was a particularly quiet grave-looking man, and yet there was often a
merry twinkle in his eye, and sometimes he would come out with some
funny remark in his quaint broken English. He was our churchwarden, and
had a great weakness for making up large fires in the church, to which
my wife strongly objected, and they waged a chronic war on the subject.
Joseph, when spoken to used to pretend to shiver, and say he felt
particularly cold. One day Mrs. Wilson said to him, "How soon is your
wife coming home?" "Oh, about two weeks," he replied. "Why, you will be
starved before then; you have no one to cook for you." "Ah, no, I guess
not," replied Joe; "Indian never starve in bush." "Why not?" asked Mrs.
Wilson. "Oh," said Joe, shaking his head humorously; "lots of
squirrels." Old Antoine Rodd, or Shesheet, as he was more generally
called, was a huge portly man, and was often very comical in his
remarks, his good-natured face beaming with fun. One day Mrs. Wilson
nearly slipped into a large puddle while threading her way along the
ill-kept road, "What would you have done if I had been drowned?" she
asked jokingly, as the old man helped her out of her difficulty. "Oh, I
would, have dragged it!" he said.

We, were very glad when at length we moved into our new house, and we
soon had plenty of our Indian friends to visit us. Widow Kwakegwah
brought a black and white cat as a present for my wife. She threw the
cat into the kitchen in front of her, and then followed laughing. It