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 to the place, in spite of its utilitarian air, something of the romantic and picturesque. The mad, leaping waters seemed to be trying to drown the noise of the men with their logging teams, the whirr of the mill wheels, and the sharp toothings of the glistening saws, which, day and night, kept up their unceasing play.

Most of the men were French Canadians; but the families that took boarders were chiefly Yankees. There was one house standing near the saw-mill, though on the opposite side of the river, which was rather neater in appearance than the rest. This was the abode of the contractor, the man who managed the business. A foot-bridge with high railings led across the wild little river from his house to the mill. There was a road in the rear of the cottage, and a group of tall pines on the hill above. These trees made a mournful sighing in the long, winter nights.

Within this dwelling, on the present evening, were four persons,—a man, his wife, their baby