IN THE ALGOMA WOODS 207 



a long distance from market, listen to the bill of 

 fare : plenty of good bread and butter, eggs, bacon, 

 toast, trout, with blueberries and raspberries ad 

 libitum. Less than eighty rods away was a lumber 

 camp where we could get milk and cream, and in 

 return for trout the cook kept us supplied with 

 delicious blueberry pies. The man who is on 

 friendly terms with the cook for a logging camp 

 need never suffer from hunger. 



The first night after our arrival we were 

 awakened by a knocking at the door. Upon being 

 admitted the visitor told of a sick child which had 

 been brought up from the city in hopes that the 

 change might prove beneficial. The mother and 

 child were living in a tent and they feared the little 

 one was dying. Had we any medicine? We had, 

 and he departed with it. The next morning the 

 baby was reported as being better, and the follow- 

 ing Sunday when we were invited to dinner at the 

 logging camp, the mother and child were at table 

 with us. When we saw that mother feeding baked 

 beans, boiled ham, pickles and pie, to a child that 

 had recently been at the point of death with cholera 

 infantum, we had an unexpressed conviction that 

 it would take something more than cholera-mixture 

 to save the child this time. However, so far as we 

 could learn, the little one survived in spite of its 

 mother's folly. Possibly ham and pie are specifics 

 in this disease. 



The country here is broken, rocky hills of con- 



