It so happened that a variety of accidents and delays impeded the progress of our emigrants, so that the shadows of evening began to fall upon them, while they were yet far from the termination of their journey, and it became necessary again to seek a place of repose for the night. The prospect of encamping again had lost much of its terrors, but they were relieved from the contemplation of this last resource of the houseless, by the agreeable information that they were drawing near the house of a farmer who was in the habit of “accommodating travellers.” It was further explained that Mr. Goodman did not keep a public-house, but that he was “well off,” “had houseroom enough, and plenty to eat,” and that “of course,” according to the hospitable customs of the country, he entertained any strangers who sought shelter under his roof. Thither they bent their steps, anticipating from the description of it a homestead much larger and more comfortable than the cheerless-looking log-cabins which had thus far greeted their eyes, and which seemed to compose the only dwellings of the population.
On arriving at the place, they were a little disappointed to find that the abundance of houseroom which had been promised them was a mere figure of speech, an idiomatic expression by a native, having a comparative signification. The dwelling was a log house, differing from others only in being of a larger size and better construction. The logs were hewed and squared instead of being put up in their original state, with the bark on; the apertures were carefully closed, and the openings representing windows, instead of being stopped when urgent occasion required the exclusion of the atmosphere, by hats, old baskets, or cast-off garments, were filled with glass, in imitation of the dwellings of more highly civilized lands. The wealth of this farmer, consisting chiefly of the plenty to eat which had been boasted, was amply illustrated by the noisy and numerous crowd of chickens, ducks, turkeys, pigs, and cattle, that cackled, gobbled, and grunted about the house, filling the air with social though discordant sounds, and so obstructing the way as scarcely to leave room for the newly-arrived party to approach the door.
As the cavalcade halted, the foremost driver made the fact known by a vociferous salutation.
“Hal-low! Who keeps house?”
A portly dame made her appearance at the door, and was saluted with,—
“How de do, ma’am—all well, ma’am?”
“All right well, thank you, sir.”
“Here’s some strangers that wants lodging; can we get to stay all night with you?”
“Well, I don’t know; he’s not at home, and I harly know what to say.”
“I’ll answer for him,” replied the driver, who understood distinctly that the pronoun used so emphatically by the good lady alluded to her inferior moiety; “he wouldn’t turn away strangers at this time of day when the chickens is jist goin to roost. We’ve ben a travellin all day, and our critters is mighty tired and hungry, as well as the rest of us.”