A SEQUEL TO

ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH.

* * * * *

CHAPTER I.

A JOURNEY TO THE WOODS.

'Tis well for us poor denizens of earth
That God conceals the future from our gaze;
Or Hope, the blessed watcher on Life's tower,
Would fold her wings, and on the dreary waste
Close the bright eye that through the murky clouds
Of blank Despair still sees the glorious sun.

It was a bright, frosty morning when I bade adieu to the farm, the
birthplace of my little Agnes, who, nestled beneath my cloak, was sweetly
sleeping on my knee, unconscious of the long journey before us into the
wilderness. The sun had not as yet risen. Anxious to get to our place of
destination before dark, we started as early as we could. Our own fine
team had been sold the day before for forty pounds; and one of our
neighbours, a Mr. D____, was to convey us and our household goods to Douro
for the sum of twenty dollars. During the week he had made several
journeys, with furniture and stores; and all that now remained was to be
conveyed to the woods in two large lumber-sleighs, one driven by himself,
the other by a younger brother.

It was not without regret that I left Melsetter, for so my husband had