“You shall have mine,” said Tom. “I can sleep upon the floor of the parlour in a blanket, Indian fashion. It's a bargain—I'll go and settle it with the Yankee directly; he's the best fellow in the world! In the meanwhile here is a little parlour, which is a joint-stock affair between some of us young hopefuls for the time being. Step in here, and I will go for Moodie; I long to tell him what I think of this confounded country. But you will find it out all in good time;” and, rubbing his hands together with a most lively and mischievous expression, he shouldered his way through trunks, and boxes, and anxious faces, to communicate to my husband the arrangement he had so kindly made for us.
“Accept this gentleman's offer, sir, till to-morrow,” said Mr. S——, “I can then make more comfortable arrangements for your family; but we are crowded—crowded to excess. My wife and daughters are obliged to sleep in a little chamber over the stable, to give our guests more room. Hard that, I guess, for decent people to locate over the horses.”
These matters settled, Moodie returned with Tom Wilson to the little parlour, in which I had already made myself at home.
“Well, now, is it not funny that I should be the first to welcome you to Canada?” said Tom.
“But what are you doing here, my dear fellow?”
“Shaking every day with the ague. But I could laugh in spite of my teeth to hear them make such a confounded rattling; you would think they were all quarrelling which should first get out of my mouth. This shaking mania forms one of the chief attractions of this new country.”
“I fear,” said I, remarking how thin and pale he had become, “that this climate cannot agree with you.”
“Nor I with the climate. Well, we shall soon be quits, for, to let you into a secret, I am now on my way to England.”
“Impossible!”
“It is true.”