Mrs.Cass had laughingly forewarned me that not only calico shirts but patch-work pillow-cases were an indispensable part of a travelling equipment; and, thanks to the taste and skill of some tidy little Frenchwoman, I found our divan-pillows all accommodated in the brightest and most variegated garb.
The Judge and my husband were gay with the deepest of blue and pink.
Each was prepared, besides, with a bright red cap (a _bonnet rouge_, or _tuque_, as the voyageurs call it), which, out of respect for the lady, was to be donned only when a hearty dinner, a dull book, or the want of exercise made an afternoon nap indispensable.
The Judge was an admirable travelling companion.

He had lived many years in the country, had been with General Cass on his expedition to the head-waters of the Mississippi, and had a vast fund of anecdote regarding early times, customs, and inhabitants.
Some instances of the mode of administering justice in those days, I happen to recall.
There was an old Frenchman at the Bay, named Reaume, excessively ignorant and grasping, although otherwise tolerably good-natured.

This man was appointed justice of the peace.

Two men once appeared before him, the one as plaintiff, the other as defendant.

The justice listened patiently to the complaint of the one and the defence of the other; then rising, with dignity, he pronounced his decision: "You are both wrong.