"The Divinity himself must surely reside in that precious liquor!'
exclaimed the Indian, after tasting it a second time; 'take all my skins
and furs; and when the dawn of the morning appears, return home, stranger,
and bring a fresh supply of this celestial beverage. My existence had
indeed begun to be a burden: I was meditating, to extricate myself by the
shortest method. I have now learned wisdom, and am convinced, that it is
_variety alone that can make life desirable."_
* * * * *
In order to understand the following, I must inform you, F - - had been
telling the story of a love-distracted maid, somewhat similar to Sterne's
Maria. You will suppose her lately to have put an end to her existence. -
"We had not proceeded very far on our way, when we discovered a funeral
procession advancing towards us, headed by the parson of the parish in
which we were. He was a little man, dressed in black, with a scarf hanging
over his left shoulder. - Upon inquiry, we found they were proceeding to a
church about a league distant, where the corpse they attended was to be
deposited.
"And to whom may this body belong?" said the _indian physician_,
addressing the man who walked in the rear of the procession.
