CHAPTER VI. 



THE RACOON. 



WAS travelling in Kentucky, towards the 

 close of autumn. A farmer in the neigh 

 bourhood of Rialton, a small town situated 

 at the foot of the Cumberland Mountains, 

 to whom I brought a letter of recommendation, had 

 kindly offered me his hospitality. I had arrived in the 

 evening, frozen, half-dead, and with the cold penetrating 

 to the marrow of my bones. The temperature had sunk 

 quite suddenly, thanks to whirlwinds of sleety rain, im- 

 pelled by a violent gale from the north. The cold was 

 very severe ; but the unexpected change had not taken 

 Mr. Danielson, my host, by surprise ; for the wood- 

 stacks which rose on either side of his house might well 

 have kept alive the hearths of ten families. Wood, 



