CHAPTER III.
THE JUG ACQUAINTANCES.
With that dull, callous, rooted impudence, Which, dead to shame and every nicer sense, Ne'er blushed, unless, when spreading Vice's snares, He stumbled on some virtue unawares .-- CHURCHILL.
A YEAR has passed since the events recorded in the preceding pages, and it is summer again.

Far up, beside one of those tributaries of the Mississippi, in the western portion of what is now the State of Minnesota, stands a small cabin, such as the early settlers in new countries build for themselves.

About a quarter of a mile further up the stream is a large Sioux village, separated from the hut by a stretch of woods through which runs a well-worn footpath.

This arrangement the young missionary, Harvey Richter, preferred rather than to dwell in the Indian village.

While laboring with all his heart and soul to regulate these degraded people, and while willing to make their troubles and afflictions his own, he still desired a seclusion where his domestic cares and enjoyments were safe from constant interruption.