broth or gruel when I went by, it would do him good to share it. Of course I went.
The cabin is simply a roof, with a fire-place and entrance at one end and a window at the other. I was surprised on entering, to see how very clean and comfortable it looked within. The walls were covered with cotton cloth; the ground with a cotton carpet; on each side of the window a bed was fitted in, and upon one of them lay the sick-man. He was alone, and I was almost afraid to go close to him at first. So I poured out some chicken-broth, for he had no fever, and went to his bed with it in my hand, after having set the door wide open.—Mother, you need not tell anybody; but I am truly a very great coward when my mind is in repose.
Mr. H ——'s hair was very gray, and turned back from his forehead; his face pale and deathly, but dirty for want of washing. He had a buffalo skin over him, and when asked if he was warm, answered distinctly, "Yes;" though it appeared at a glance, that his mind was worn to shreds. I think his mouth is very handsome; but there is something about the atmosphere of his presence which
