Long
stretched before us the island of St. Joseph's, with its fair woods of
sugar maple. A gentleman on board, who belongs to the Fort at the Sault,
said their pastime was to come in the season of making sugar, and pass
some time on this island,--the days at work, and the evening in dancing
and other amusements.
I wished to extract here Henry's account of this, for it was just the
same sixty years ago as now, but have already occupied too much room
with extracts. Work of this kind done in the open air, where everything
is temporary, and every utensil prepared on the spot, gives life a truly
festive air. At such times, there is labor and no care--energy with
gaiety, gaiety of the heart.
I think with the same pleasure of the Italian vintage, the Scotch
harvest-home, with its evening dance in the barn, the Russian
cabbage-feast even, and our huskings and hop-gatherings--the
hop-gatherings where the groups of men and girls are pulling down and
filling baskets with the gay festoons, present as graceful pictures as
the Italian vintage.
I should also like to insert Henry's descriptions of the method of
catching trout and white fish, the delicacies of this region, for the
same reason as I want his account of the Gens de Terre, the savages
among savages, and his tales, dramatic, if not true, of cannibalism.
I have no less grieved to omit Carver's account of the devotion of a
Winnebago prince at the Falls of St. Anthony, which he describes with a
simplicity and intelligence, that are very pleasing.
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