OUR HOME. 167 



For my own part I take an almost daily drive 

 around the bay or a stroll over the hills or out upon 

 the frozen sea. Sometimes I carry my rifle, hoping 

 to shoot a deer or perhaps a bear, but usually I go 

 unarmed and unaccompanied, except by a sprightly 

 Newfoundland pup which rejoices in the name of Gen- 

 eral This little beast has shared with me my cabin 

 since leaving Boston, and has always insisted upon 

 the choicest place. We have got to be the best of 

 friends. He knows perfectly well when the hour 

 comes to go out after breakfast, and whines impa- 

 tiently at the door ; and when he sees me take my 

 cap and mittens from their peg his happiness is com- 

 plete. And the little fellow makes a most excellent 

 companion. He does not bore me with senseless talk, 

 but tries his best to make himself agreeable. If in 

 the sober mood, he walks beside me with stately grav- 

 ity ; but when not so inclined he rushes round in the 

 wildest manner, — rolling himself in the snow, tossing 

 the white flakes to the wind, and now and then tug- 

 ging at my huge fur mittens or at the tail of my fur 

 coat. Some time ago he fell down the hatch and 

 broke his leg, and while this was healing I missed him 

 greatly. There is excellent companionship in a sen- 

 sible dog. 



I try as much as a reasonable regard for discipline 

 will allow to cultivate the social relations and usages 

 of home. True, we cannot get up a ball, and we lack 

 the essential elements of a successful tea-party ; but 

 we are not wholly deficient in those customs which, 

 in the land where the loved ones are, take away so 

 much of life's roughnesses. And these little formal ob- 

 servances promote happiness and peace. There is no 

 place in the world where habits of unrestrained fiimil- 



