longer in a famine. This is to me a very affecting story; and it seems
to be felt as such by the people of the country. The little boy's
parents, and his brothers and sisters, who probably lived to maturity or
old age, are all forgotten; but he lives in tradition, and still causes
wet eyes to strangers, as he did to me.

To account for the singularity of his not having been found by such
numbers as took up the search, it is suggested that he was perhaps
frightened, and perhaps concealed himself when he heard the noise of
people making their way through the forest, people being apt to do so,
when they get mazed with wandering in the woods. But it is strange that
old hunters, with dogs, should have failed to find him. However, there
is the fact.

After breakfast (a broiled chicken and excellent coffee) I walked out by
myself. The brook would be a beautiful plaything for my children, and I
wish I had such a one for them. As I looked down into it from the
bridge, I saw little fish, minnows, small chubs, and perch sporting
about and rising eagerly to anything that was thrown in. Returning
towards the house, I encountered an ass, who seemed glad to see me, in
its donkeyish way. Afterwards, E---- and I took a ramble among some of
his old haunts, which took up pretty much all the remainder of the
forenoon. After dinner we drove to New Ipswich, expecting to see the
closing scenes of the muster, but found the regiment dismissed, and the
spectators taking their departure. We visited a cousin of E----, and
took tea; borrowed two great-coats (it having grown from summer to
autumn very rapidly since nightfall), and drove home, six miles or
thereabouts. A new moon and the long twilight gleamed over the first
portion of our drive, and then the northern lights kindled up and shot
flashes towards the zenith as we drove along, up hill and down dale, and