I was much amused with an account which he gave me, in his quaint
way, of an excursion he went upon with a botanist, to collect
specimens of the plants and flowers of Upper Canada.
"It was a fine spring day, some ten years ago, and I was yoking my
oxen to drag in some oats I had just sown, when a little, fat,
punchy man, with a broad, red, good-natured face, and carrying a
small black leathern wallet across his shoulder, called to me over
the fence, and asked me if my name was Brian B - -? I said, 'Yes;
what of that?'
"'Only you are the man I want to see. They tell me that you are
better acquainted with the woods than any person in these parts;
and I will pay you anything in reason if you will be my guide for
a few days.'
"'Where do you want to go?' said I.
"'Nowhere in particular,' says he. 'I want to go here and there, in
all directions, to collect plants and flowers.'
"That is still-hunting with a vengeance, thought I. 'To-day I must
drag in my oats.