with its squad of frowsy, unkempt idlers.

[Illustration: COUNTRY STORE.]

The country store and post-office is the same everywhere: it belongs
to every clime and nationality--it is a human device and speaks an
universal language. It is generally overflowing with all sorts of
commodities, from a hand-saw to a toothpick--is well stocked with
calico and molasses, rum and candles, straw hats and sugar, bacon and
coal oil, and gun-powder and beeswax. It is the rallying point for all
the mischief-making gossips to collect, for the settlement of the
affairs of the nation, and, failing in that, to set the neighbors by
the ears.

Leaving the canal, we go out into another river: a bright spot breaks
upon us--a lumber station with new, fresh-looking piles of sawed
lumber. The banks of this stream are just as low, marshy and
uninteresting as the one we have passed through, and more crooked.
There are perhaps a few more trees--some oaks, and we observed a tree
with its crimson and yellow autumn foliage, backed by a clump of
pines, looking beautiful against the dark green, like sunlight
illumining a gloomy spot.

After winding through the channel for a few hours, we enter Currituck
Sound. This shallow sea takes its name from a tribe of Indians which
once owned the adjacent lands. It is quite a large sheet of water,
though not deep, about fifty miles long, and nearly ten at the widest
part. It is dotted with small, low, sedgy islands, marshes and swamps.
After enduring the approaches to it, quite an enlivening scene is
presented. Persons are seen on the shore of the mainland, and boats