"Why didn't they use big sleighs and horses?" Gerald put in.
"No road," was the reply, "only narrow trail through the wood."
"And was all the mail from the big world brought to Mackinaw that way when you were a little boy?" persisted Betty; "and did you ever get a letter?"
"No, I can't say I ever got one letter myself. Little children ain't much account those day, but my aunt what live on Canada send me one pair mitten for a New Year present. I'm just about big like Beely then, but I'm walk in all alone from Cadotte's Point."
"And you must have seen a bear," observed Billy.
"Oh, now, you Beely, you think I'm going to tell you a bear story. Well I ain't feel just right for tole you a bear story this time. I'm tell that some other time. I'm tell you a bear story every time I'm see you, Beely, and I'm getting them pretty near all wear out."
At this the children laughed so uproariously, the baby awoke and began to cry.
"Mamma'll bring him out in a minute," remarked Betty, and when the baby, still screaming, was brought into the room, Antoine insisted upon taking him, to the delight of the children, who stood by, softly clapping their hands and laughing. Their mother laughed, too, when Antoine, who knew something about babies from long experience, began walking the floor with the little fellow and talking to him.
"Well, is this the new baby? Bring it here and let me look at it. Well, a pretty nice looking baby, I'm think, if she ain't cry so much. Her face is all crooked and all wrinkle up. Come now, you ain't going to cry all the time. I'm going to look and see them little eye you got there. Well, she make quite a bit of noise for her size, but I'm going to sing him a little song and see if she won't go to sleep again: