DETROIT TO CHICAGO. 343 



those events which, while they impressed themselves 

 upon witnesses with indelible distinctness, may yet have 

 lost their bitterness, when it is remembered that before 

 many years they and their stories will have passed 

 away. To those who indulge in the absurd belief that 

 such topics are discussed with malicious intent, no 

 justification need be made. 



Led on from one thing to another, I found Darby 

 finally plying me with questions of kindly interest 

 about my peaceful march from Ocean to Ocean, and 

 anxiously asking about my horse, which I had pre- 

 viously left in his care. He offered to do all he could 

 for the animal and with this comforting assurance took 

 his leave. 



(Due J5^tnlireb auli ^leccutl) JDag. 



Duncombe House, 



Decatur, Michigan, 



August Thirtieth. 



Early in the afternoon Darby called with fishing 

 tackle and proposed that we go out to Lake of the 

 Woods and try our luck wnth hook and line. The 

 expedition was not successful as far as fish was con- 

 cerned, but we had a delightful boat ride and plenty 

 of talk. 



The lake, a pretty little dot lying, as its name 

 implies, in the heart of the woods, is an ideal spot for 

 rest and enjoyment, and its miniature dimensions bear 

 no resemblance to its famed namesake of Minnesota. 

 As we had such poor success with our tackle I took no 

 note of the kind of fish that make their home within 

 its sleepy borders, and my companion gave me very 



