on the beautiful lake, and the observation of its shores. “But—it is Sunday,” was the answer which I received with a smile, and on Sundays people must not amuse themselves, not even in God's beautiful scenery. But sleep in church,—that they may do!
October 7th.—I had heard speak of a flourishing Norwegian settlement, in a district called Koskonong, about twenty miles from Madison, and having expressed a wish to visit it, a kind young lady, Mrs. C., offered to drive me there with her carriage and horses.
The next day we set off in a little open carriage, with a Norwegian lad as driver. The weather was mild and sunny, and the carriage rolled lightly along the country, which here is hilly, and having a solid surface, makes naturally good roads. The whole of the first part of the way lay through new, and mostly wild, uncultivated land, but which everywhere resembled an English park, with grassy hills and dales, the grass waving tall and yellow, and scattered with oak wood. The trees were not lofty, and the green sward under them as free from underwood as if it had been carefully uprooted. This is attributed to the practice of the Indians to kindle fires year after year upon these grass-grown fields, whereby the bushes and trees were destroyed; and it is not many years since the Indians were possessed of this tract of country.
As we proceeded, however, the land became a little more cultivated. One saw here and there a rudely-built log-house with its fields of maize around it, and also of new-sown wheat. We then reached a vast billowy prairie, Liberty Prairie, as it is called, which seemed interminable, for our horses were tired, and evening was coming on; nor was it till late and in darkness that we reached Koskonong, and our Norwegian driver, who came from that place, drove us to the house of the Norwegian pastor. This too was merely a small log-house.
The Norwegian pastor, Mr. P., had only left Norway
