advanced brightly through heaven and over earth, until toward evening, when by degrees it hid itself in light clouds of sun-smoke, which, as it descended, formed belts, through which the fiery globe shone with softened splendour, so that it represented a vast pantheon, with a cupola of gold, standing on the horizon above that immeasurable plain. This Temple of the Sun was to me one which I shall never forget.
To-morrow, or the day following, I shall leave this place, and on Monday I hope to be on the Mississippi.
I shall now write a few words to young Mrs. D., my beloved sun-flower at Madison. I must tell you that the cook in her family, a respectable, clever Norwegian, would not on any terms receive money from me, for the trouble she had had on my account.
It was cloudy this morning, and I was afraid of rain: but for all that, I went out “à la bonne aventure.” And to set out thus by one's self is so delightful. I followed a little path which wound through low boscage over the prairie. I there met some little children, who, with their mat-baskets in their hands, were wandering along to school. I accompanied them, and came to a little house built also of logs, and extremely humble. This was the school-house. The school-room was merely a room in which were some benches; the children, about a dozen in number were ragged,—regular offspring of the wilderness. But they seemed willing enough to learn, and upon the log-walls of the room hung maps of the globe, upon which the young scholars readily pointed out to me the countries I mentioned; and there were also in that poor school-house such books as the “National Geography,” by Goodrich, Smith's “Quarto Geography,” which contains views of the whole world; whilst in the reading-book in common use I found gems from the literature of all countries, and particularly from that of England and
