DOWN THE MATTAWAMKEAG. 
T a settlers’ new made clearing, 
aN On the rarely travelled highway ; 
Ends their night ride and their teaming, 
Just as it is breaking day. 
Then turn about the pretty ponies, 
Heading for their home again; 
While two sporting, friendly cronies, 
Look about them for the lane. 
Now with knapsack, bag and blanket, 
Axe and rifle, and a store 
Of home-made bread, with pork and doughnuts, 
Hasten to the river shore. 
Down half a mile of grassy old road, 
’Neath dewey boughs and dripping trees ; 
There laid down the heavy back load, 
Scolded by the screaming jays. 
Find they in the shady thicket, 
Roofed with bark, their birch canoe; 
Half a year though they had left it, 
Still it was as good as new. 
