the strength of their morning libations; the absence of women from the
streets making that solution appear possible, if not probable.

On Sunday we went to Holy Trinity Church, a pretty little frame building
with a full congregation. Part of the church was occupied by the regiment
of artillery quartered in Fort Osborne, a neat little barracks to the
west of the prairie. The choir was passable, and could boast of one
thoroughly good tenor. An energetic clergyman preached an excellent
sermon.

Towards the end of June, Mr. C---- and his party left for the line; and
we, having taken the house vacated by the T----s the week before, were
busy getting comfortably settled. Numbers of people called; many of them
old friends whom we had lost sight of for years; and every one was so
cordial and friendly, that we anticipated great pleasure during our stay
in Winnipeg.

It is a strange place, peopled with a strange variety from all quarters
of the globe. Tall Indians stand in groups at the street corners, wrapped
in long dirty-white, dark-blue, or scarlet blankets, held well about
their shoulders, and hanging below their knees. They wear beaded or
embroidered cloth leggings, blue, scarlet, or black, tied with gay
ribbons. Their feet are in mocassins, their long black hair is braided
with beads or ribbons, and a black silk handkerchief, in which either
feathers or a bunch of ribbons are fastened, is folded and knotted round
their foreheads. Young squaws with shaggy, flowing hair, short, coloured
merino skirts, and shawls over their heads, sit on the side-walks,
chattering in their guttural tongue, and laughing over some joke; fat,
glossy, half-breed ponies, in gorgeously beaded saddle-cloths, stand at
the edge of the road awaiting their masters--short, lithe, dark men, who