THE YOUTH’S CABINET.

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Incidents at the West.

FEW years since, my father took
b6\ it into his head that he would
go to the western country ; so
he and my mother, and little
sister, and myself, started, one bright
May morning, from the old Bay State,
for the wilds of Western Michigan. I
shall not tell you of our slow and tedious
voyage on the Western canal, or narrate
the particulars of a boisterous passage
on the lakes. It is enough that we ar-
rived at our place of destination, safe
and sound. We moved directly into the
woods, a mile from any settlement or
habitation of any kind.
My father built a trim log-house upon
a gentle swell of land, and a proud-
looking little thing it was, I assure you.
This was our castle—not “a castle in
the air,” such as we boys often build,
but a real castle in the woods. We
then commenced clearing a piece of
ground for corn, and built a barn. My
father hired an Irishman—not a “ bog-

trotter,” but as clever a fellow as ever
came from the Emerald Isle.

We had not been here a long time, be-
fore a man came into the place, and set-
tled about half a mile from us. He had
a little boy, about my age; and we each
had a hatchet, with which we did great
execution among the small trees, cutting
down everything that happened to come
in our way,

We had a little black Indian pony,
that I used to ride to water every day,
at a lake about half a mile distant.
One day, I rode down as usual. It was
a warm day, and the flies bit pretty
sharply. I rode her out into the lake,
and she began to paw up the sand, and
make the water fly finely. Not content
with this, down she lay, plump in the
water. Of course, I jumped off, and
paddled for the shore; and right glad I
was to reach land, I assure you. After
she had had her frolic out, she came di-
rectly up to me, as if nothing had hap-