We All Felt Accommodating The Postmaster I Saw Was Particularly So And We Concluded To Wait Till Everything Was In, And Perhaps We Would Have Waited For Some One To Write A Letter.

I could not but think it would be a week before another mail day; and still I could not but think these unnecessary morning hindrances were throwing a part of our journey into the night hours.

Returning again to the eastern bank of the river by our fine ferry, we soon passed the spacious residence of Mr. Olmsted, a prominent citizen of the territory. We made a formal halt at his door to see if there were any passengers. Mr. Olmsted has a large farm under good cultivation, and several intelligent young men in his service. In that neighborhood are some other as handsome farms as I ever saw; but I think they are on the reservation, and are cultivated under the patronage of the war department. The winter grain was just up, and its fresh verdure afforded an agreeable contrast with the many emblems of decaying nature. It was in the middle of the forenoon that we reached Belle Prairie, along which are many good farm houses occupied by half-breeds. There is a church and a school-house. In the cemetery is a large cross painted black and white, and from its imposing appearance it cannot fail to make a solemn impression on minds which revere any tangible object that is consigned sacred. A very comfortable-looking house was pointed out to me as the residence of a Catholic priest, who has lived for many years in that section, spreading among the ignorant a knowledge of Christianity, and ministering to their wants in the hour of death. And though I am no Catholic, I could not but regard the superiority of that kind of preaching for visiting the sick, consoling the afflicted, and rebuking sin by daily admonitions, is the true preaching of the Gospel over the pompous declamation which now too often usurps the pulpit.

The dinner was smoking hot on the table when we drove up to the hotel at Swan River; and so charming a drive in the pure air had given me a keen appetite. The dinner (and I speak of these matters because they are quite important to travellers) was in all respects worthy of the appetite. The great staple article of Minnesota soil appears to be potatoes, for they were never known to be better anywhere else Eastport not excepted and at our table d'hote they were a grand collateral to the beef and pork. The dessert consisted of nice home made apple pies served with generosity, and we had tea or milk or water, as requested, for a beverage. After partaking of a dinner of this kind, the rest of the day's journey was looked forward to with no unpleasant emotions. The stage happened to be lightly loaded, and we rolled along with steady pace, and amidst jovial talk, till we reached the thriving, but to me not attractive, town of Watab.

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