"Joe Was A Baby Then, And I Had
Another Helpless Critter In My Lap - An Adopted Child.
My sister
had died from it, and I was nursing it at the same breast with
my boy.
Well, we had to perform a journey of four hundred miles
in an ox-cart, which carried, besides me and the children, all
our household stuff. Our way lay chiefly through the forest, and
we made but slow progress. Oh! what a bitter cold night it was
when we reached the swampy woods where the city of Rochester now
stands. The oxen were covered with icicles, and their breath sent
up clouds of steam. 'Nathan,' says I to my man, 'you must stop and
kindle a fire; I am dead with cold, and I fear the babes will be
frozen.' We began looking about for a good spot to camp in, when I
spied a light through the trees. It was a lone shanty, occupied by
two French lumberers. The men were kind; they rubbed our frozen
limbs with snow, and shared with us their supper and buffalo skins.
On that very spot where we camped that night, where we heard nothing
but the wind soughing amongst the trees, and the rushing of the
river, now stands the great city of Rochester. I went there two
years ago, to the funeral of a brother. It seemed to me like a
dream. Where we foddered our beasts by the shanty fire now stands
the largest hotel in the city; and my husband left this fine growing
country to starve here."
I was so much interested in the old woman's narrative - for she was
really possessed of no ordinary capacity, and, though rude and
uneducated might have been a very superior person under different
circumstances - that I rummaged among my store, and soon found a
piece of black silk, which I gave her for the hood she required.
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