ing up, we surrounded him at a distance | to St. Anthony's Falls. We go in a of about fifty yards, and commenced an northwesterly direction, and the distance attack. The balls whizzed through the by the usual road is nine miles, but if air, and as each entered his shaggy sides we follow the course of the river it is he quivered for a moment, and then fifteen miles. We go up, by a gradual dashed at his assailant, who turned, of ascent, on to a high bluff to the westcourse, and fled. After a dozen shots, ward of St. Paul. The road is smooth, he reeled and fell staggering down the and we are soon beyond the city limits, hill, and pitched headlong into a creek, past the last straggling house in the his blood pouring from mouth and nose, suburbs, and out at sea on a prairie and spouting in jets from his side, min- six miles wide. What a field of corn. gling with and coloring the water, so that there on the left, now fully ripe and it ran apparently a stream of blood, glistening in the November sun! It hence we named it Bloody Creek. is the most luxuriant growth that I have ever seen, not even excepting the corn fields of Illinois; and those squashes! why, they cover the ground. I now believe the story in the newspaper which told that a man, near St. Paul, raised seventy large squashes on one vine, and that when gathered they filled his cart. It may be cold here in winter, but that crop of sweet potatoes yonder, and those tomatoes which were ripe long before the first frost, look as though farmers could flourish here. "We killed on this occasion about twenty buffaloes, and took out their tongues, leaving their carcases to the wolves. We saw, in all, from five to ten thousand; the plains, as far as the eye could reach, being dotted with them. At our camp at night they were all around us, some within half a mile." I don't know how you would like this sport, Uncle Hiram, for my part I can't help feeling a pity for the noble animals that fought so heroically for dear life. I would rather have seen that old bull buffalo that was so hard to kill, get away, than to see him lie panting and bleeding in the creek. If you come out here, and have a fancy for such exciting sports, you might borrow Aunt Sue's riffe, unless she chooses to come and use it herself. I am sure she would use it skillfully, for she always accomplishes whatever she undertakes, and does it well. While we leave the buffaloes to graze for the present on the prairie grass, suppose we take a drive from St. Paul up Hark! what is that? The deep solemn roar, "the sound of many waters." The Falls must be near. There they are! See the spray ascending like clouds. And now we are in sight of the great cataract of the northwest, second only to Niagara on the American continent. The quantity of water is not so great, nor the fall so precipitous, as at Niagara, and yet the scene is, in some respects, more impressive, not that it overwhelms one with such emotions of awe and reverence, or crushes him into utter insignificance before the mighty power that chains him to the spot, but it is a scene that holds you in solemn revery. You want to be alone, and stand for hours in unbroken silence, while God comes near to you, not in the whirlwind of his power, but in the sublimity of his external existence. You have travelled hundreds of miles over an uninhabited country. You seem to have left the usual haunts of men far behind you, and here, alone with your God, you approach near to his paternal presence. During the lapse of ages God has been here in the mighty symbol of his power, and though apprehended by no intelligent worship, and seen only dimly as the Great Spirit of the forest children, he yet has not ceased for one instant, the roar of the mighty waters, that is a perpetual hymn uttering his praise. Father Hennipin, the adventurous voyager, was the first white man to break the silence of these northwestern wilds. He found his way hither in 1680, and when he came in sight of the cataract, he fell upon his knees in mute wonder and adoration, and gave to the frowning waters the baptismal name of his patron saint. Interesting as these Falls are, as a sublime spectacle, attracting hither multitudes from afar, they are in a fair way to be converted into the working purposes of every-day life. Adventurous Yankees, from down-east, couldn't sit still and see the best water power in the world idle, while there were above it immense forests of pine lumber that the current of the river will float to a market. There are three islands in the river just below the Falls, situated in a direct line one above the other. The upper one contains about ten acres, the middle one about forty acres, and the lower one some fifteen acres. The lower part of the Fall is towards the west side, and the channel of the river on the west side of the island is larger; but mills are erected on both sides, and if half the power is even occupied, this place will become the Lowell of the West. The city of St. Anthony, which now contains two or three thousand inhabitants, is beautifully picturesque in its location, being directly opposite the Falls, and on the east side of the river. Some of its buildings are really elegant, and its business and population are rapidly increasing. Above the Falls there is a magnificent wire suspension bridge, across the river, built at the expense of the United States government, and connecting the city of St. Anthony with its rival city, Minneapolis, on the west side of the river. Minneapolis and the country round about, is a level prairie, and on some accounts very suitable for a town site. The city is about as large as St. Anthony, and is destined to be a very large place. Here is the land office for this district, and the auction sale of lands being in progress, we hitched our horse in an oak grove, near by the Falls, and went in. Probably very few of the Merry family have ever heard much about a government land sale. The office is a low wooden building, and there are gathered in and about it ing men. You will see them in little groups talking together, and looking at land plots which they hold in their hands. The auctioneer stands on a box with a plot or town map in his hand, talking very earnestly, and you will hear something like the following: two or three hundred respectable look- | sixty acres each. The section in the north-east corner of the town is always number one, the next west of it number two, the next west of that number three, and by counting back and forth you can in an instant tell in what part of the town any given section is; thus section thirty-six will be in the southeast corner. The quarter sections are "The east half of the north-east quarter of section sixteen, township one designated as the north-east quarter, hundred and fourteen, north range eigh-north-west quarter, south-west quarter, teen west-how much am I offered gone, at a dollar and a quarter, to J- N" and south-east quarter. Then these quarter sections are divided by a line running north and south into halves. So they say: "The east half of the north-west quarter of section sixteen, range eighteen." If any of the Merrys don't understand that description, let him take a slate and work it out, it will then be plain enough. In Minnesota sections sixteen and thirty-six, in every township, are reserved for a school fund, and they will thus secure an allowance for schools, which will hardly be equalled in any state. 1 Now, this at first seems all Greek, but the description of the land is very simple. In the first place they are sur-township one hundred and fourteen, veyed into townships six miles square, and commencing with a given parallel of latitude, all the townships in a range east and west, are called township number one, and the next tier of towns is called township number two, and so on, through the whole state. Then taking a certain line of longitude as a starting point, the line of towns north and south lying on the west side of that line of longitude, is called range one west. The next line of towns is called range two west; the next three west, and so on. If you were on the east side of the starting line, it would be range one east, range two east, and so forth. Having thus designated the townships, then each township is divided into thirty-six squares, of a mile square each. These squares are called sections, and contain six hundred and forty acres each. Then each section is divided into four quarter sections, of one hundred and But we must quit this land sale, or we shall spend all our money, and not have enough left to get back to New York. To see as handsome and rich land as there is in the world, selling for a dollar and a quarter an acre, is a pretty strong temptation to buy at least a piece large enough to live on, when we are too old and blind to conduct the Museum. It is now time that we take our horse and go back to St. Paul. We will go down on the west side of the river. The road is over a beautiful prairie till we come to the Minnehaha river, a beautiful stream with low grassy banks, almost on a level with the prairie. Just before it reaches the Mississippi river, it pitches over a perpendicular rock fifty or sixty feet down into a chasm. This is the Minnehaha Falls, or the falls of the "laughing water," which Longfellow has so beautifully described. The water pours over the rock like a stream of liquid silver, and no words can give you an adequate idea of the beauty of the place. treated us with great attention and politeness. This fort is situated on a tongue of land at the junction of the Minnesota and Mississippi rivers, and commands the navigation of both. But the shades of evening are falling upon us, the full moon is rising in the east. We will cross the Minnesota in a wire ferry boat, and drive homeward, for Fanny, who has drawn us in gay style to-day, wants her supper, and so do we. We have seen enough in one day to think about a week, and if our imperfect descriptions afford the Merry family any pleasure, we are Adieu, till our MERRY. From Minnehaha we go two miles further down, and come to Fort Snelling, where some United States troops doubly compensated. are stationed, and where the officers next. SEE Cats-paw. share of the delicacies, if she only lends him her paw, to rake them out of the fire. Puss demurs, and screams vociferously, but all to no purpose. She is in the scrape, having helped him to steal the nuts, and now she must bear the penalty of being in bad company. Puss is sadly burned, so that she cannot eat a mor sel, and Jocko takes the entire spoil to himself, chuckling over his ready wit, and good fortune. Look out sharp, boys, for the company you keep. You will find many a good-natured, grinning Jocko, who will flatter your self-love, and tickle your fancy, in a thousand ways, only to make a Cats-paw EE the saucy rogue! How impudently he laughs at the joke he is perpetrating on the poor helpless cat. The nuts are in the fire, all roasted, and ready to burn. Jocko wants them, and will have them, but don't mean to burn his own delicate fingers, by pulling them of you, for his own advantage. out. So he promises Miss Puss a liberal HIRAM. "Twas a beautiful day, the beginning of summer, | Pusuing the "birdie" their rambles they took, When the little birds sing, and the brooks gently murmur, When the rivulets whisper, with sprite and with fay, And the flow'rs bend their heads low, to list what they say, Nor thought of the way,-of a path, or a turn, return; Then-poor little children !-how vainly they tried To find their way home, little Katie she cried, That two little children, named Freddie and When Fred, with philosophy worthy a man, I'd keep him, and feed him, and love him, and He is always beside us, around and above us; pet him. So don't cry, little Katie, but let us sit here, Come, Katie, let's follow,"-and off they both And father 'll soon find us-you've nothing to went, And followed the bird, till an hour was spent. Down the road, through the field, to the wood by the brook, fear." Then, taking her hand, a seat they soon found |