Shortly after my adventure, I was agreeably surprised by a visit from our old friend and uncle, Mr. Hoskins. It was not altogether unexpected, but it had come to pass a little earlier than we reckoned upon; the room intended for him not being then quite finished. However, we were all happy at the meeting, and as he had himself been a rough settler in the woods of Vermont, he was easily accommodated, and looked upon apologies as superfluities.

Although he said nothing himself on the subject, yet I soon perceived that his visit to Babelmandel was not dictated altogether by affection for his niece, my wife, and that in the journey he had an eye awake to number one. His latter specs had not proved such beneficial operations as some of his earlier, and he had improved his farm in Vermont quite as much as it was worth while to do, considering the limited market in his neighbourhood; in a word, he was inclined to sell his betterments there, and embark in a new trade. He had, indeed, hinted as much to me when I originally proposed to come into the Genesee country, so that the purpose of his visit was with a view to both or either of these objects.

The first afternoon we spent in jocose temperance. I rehearsed to him all the adventures of our voyage and journey from New York, the tribulations we had suffered in the woods, and the prospect beginning to dawn around us, with all which he was well pleased; but when I proposed to accompany him next morning over the settlement, he said—

“No: I guess Squire Laurie talks too much—when a man's a-making calculations, his company ain't partikler precious, and flashing in the pan scares ducks. The gentleman will ‘scuse me.”

I certainly did not think this was very civilised; but he was in all things a plain spoken man, and had proved the sincerity of his friendship by five hundred excellent reasons; so I did not answer him just so tartly as my inclination at the time prompted.