The feasting began at 2.30 p.m., the table very well spread--wedding-
cake, wine, turkey, goose, rabbit, beef, tarts, buns, and preserves.
About twenty-five sat down at a time, the bride and bridegroom at the
head. Two tables were cleared before the speeches began. Chief Little
Pine made a capital speech, relating the happiness of his own married
days, and wishing for a like blessing on the young couple just united.

_March_ 15.--Last evening our cottage reading was at
Buhkwujjenene's. I had just given out the first hymn when a message
came that I was wanted immediately at George Pine's, for Eliza was very
ill, and, they feared, dying. I got my medicines and jumped into the
sleigh. George Pine had gone away last Monday beaver-hunting. Only
Sarah was in the house. Eliza was lying on a couch on the floor, her
head to the wall, her feet toward the stove,--Sarah sitting about two
yards from her on the floor by the wall, with Eliza's baby on her
knees. The other two little children, Benjamin and Esther, were lying
on some blankets, on the floor at the other side of the room. While I
was taking off my cap and muffler George Angisteh bent down and looked
at Eliza, and then said to Sarah, "She is dead!" He then got up
quickly, and went out to summon the neighbours. In the meantime I felt
her pulse and heart, but her eyes were fixed, and she evidently was
dead; the women who came in tried rubbing her arms and legs, but
without any effect. Gradually the room became crowded with persons, the
two chiefs among the number. I gave a short address, expressed my
belief that Eliza was fully prepared for death, and was now happy; and
told the people her words about the eight true Christians whom she
thought might be found in Garden River. I pitied, I said, the three
little orphan children, and I trusted that God would care for them. I
spoke to Benjamin, the eldest (six years old), and told him his mother