NOTE A.—[Page 25.]
“Roof of the boat.” This seems an awkward expression, yet there is no other word which will convey the idea. The flat boats of the west are in shape parallelograms; they have but a single story, and closely boarded over, form a flat roof upon which in good weather emigrants lounge or walk about for exercise.
NOTE B.—[Page 56.]
I have often been amused when travelling through the west, at the inquiries which would be made upon finding out that I was a Virginian, by persons who had emigrated years before from the same state. It seemed to them a matter of course that I must know their relations; and I have been asked after Aunt Polly, Jenny, and other members of a family of which I knew no more than if they lived in the moon. This was frequently the case in Arkansas, but lest it should seem to show a degree of ignorance unequalled by any other people, and perhaps afford nuts to crack for foreigners, I must tell an anecdote by way of set off. In the winter of '34, I started in a coach well filled from Manchester for Nottingham; the passengers were all genteel, well dressed men, and one seemed affable and talkative above his companions; he gave me much local information, and discovering that I was an American from some remark I made, the following dialogue ensued.
“You are not an American?” said he.
“Indeed I am.”
“Well, you talk just as we do.”
I told him, I thought nothing was more natural, inasmuch as we were descended from the English.
“Well, now will you tell me one thing I have long wanted to know?” continued the stranger.
“Certainly, if it be proper, and I can;”—said I.