surprised. I felt almost like stopping smoking at the thought of a dumb animal like Tom teaching me such a lesson."

POOR OLD GREY.

It was a good cat story, but I thought I had a better, and thus told it. "My once city home had a cellar-kitchen, an abomination from which you country folk are free. To get out of it into the back yard were three steps. The yard outside was on a level with the kitchen window. The kitchen table where food was prepared was on a level with and against the window. Our 'Old Grey' was a mother cat. Over her eyes, as over all grey cats, were some black lines forming the letter W, which might have signified war. However that may have been, she had much of what is called 'character,' and, as this incident I now relate shows, an innate sense of the proper and fitting. The time of this incident was a summer morning. Our girl Mary was at the table preparing food for breakfast; I think they were cod-fish balls. Old Grey was seated demurely on the kitchen floor watching her. There appeared at the window outside the last of Old Grey's kittens that had escaped the drowning. It came in, and annoying Mary she gently put it down on the floor, for she was fond of kittens, when it ran out up the steps into the yard and again came into the window, Old Grey still watching in all her furry dignity. Mary again gently put it on to the floor, when it again ran out and appeared at the window the third time, Old Grey still watching. Then she acted as though she had thought: Now I'll stop this impertinence. Mary is a good girl; you sha'n't bother her so; she will never be able to get her breakfast ready in this world.' So she sprang up on to the window-sill, met her kitten, boxed its ear, drove her back, and it came no more. Here were exhibited the identical qualities of the human mind-observation, reflection and judgment; and yet a president of one of the first colleges of our land once said to me, "Animals have no reflection.

She

Poor Old Grey not long after this considerate act left these mortal scenes. She was seized with an incurable and infectious disease, so the doctor said, and that it was dangerous, as she might communicate it not only to other animals, but to human beings. That opinion was her doom. It was a dreadful thing to do; but somebody had to do it, so I took a tin boiler, put in it a sponge saturated with chloroform, and called her to me. came with alacrity at my summons, looking upon me as her best friend. She lay in my arms gentle as a lamb, all confidence, supremely happy, and purred in joy. Proceeding but a few yards I laid her softly in the bottom of the boiler, shut the cover down tight, and awaited the event. In a few moments there was a great rustling noise inside as though there was some object there going round and round, and then it suddenly ceased. Then I knew Old Grey had been overcome

by the fumes and was passing away. A grave was made for her in the garden, and with some of the bystanders there was a swelling of the throat, and their eyes yielded the tribute of a tear. And to this day none of us who knew Old Grey can think of her without a pang. And it did us no good afterwards to learn that the medical man was one of those who knew altogether too much; the disease was not dangerous to any one, and was easily cured. The heart that cannot feel another's woe, even if it be but an humble, dependent animal, will never see the kingdom of heaven, at least that part of it that sometimes bends down to earth.

STORY OF A PET WOLF.

The doctor followed with a wolf story: "In 1882 a friend sent me from Kansas a babe wolf, and so young that it had not opened its eyes. It grew to be a very kindly, timid and frolicsome animal. When I entered the house it sprang to meet me with all the joyous manifestations of a dog. It was very fond of my little girl, and once seized her doil and ran with it under the table. Upon this she sat down on the floor and cried. Taking pity upon her the wolf brought it back and laid it at her feet. Then when she took it up again he jumped and capered around her, as though he could scarcely contain himself for joy.

"The wolf followed me about the streets like a dog. Few, however, recognized it as a wolf; strangers generally thought it a new variety of the dog family. His weight was about forty pounds; but if he heard any unusual noise he would run to me for protection, being exceedingly timid. I taught him to howl, so that he would do so by a mere wave of the hand. It was a most horrid noise, which became at last such a nuisance to ourselves and neighbors that we were obliged to get rid of him."

A CHARMING WEDDING TOUR.

As the doctor finished the wolf anecdote, I changed for one of a different character, and said: "Last Sunday I dined with a young couple who had married but a few years before, and then as usual started on their wedding tour. Not a soul could have guessed its objective point for the passing their honeymoon.' It is not probable any other couple living has had such an experience. it was

to the White House that they had been invited by their friends, its occupants, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes. On telling me this the lady followed it with another. When I was a little girl, going home from school with other girls, we passed by a door where General Grant was sitting quietly smoking his cigar. He stopped us, chatted a while, and finally took me in his arms and kissed me. Nothing exactly satisfies in this world, for when I had run home and told my mother, she expressed her regret that I did not have on my pretty new dress.'"1

The Military Expeditions against the Indian tribes in the West, commenced under the colonial government about the middle of the last century, were finally terminated on this river by the decisive victory of Gen. Wayne in 1794. Previous to that event no portion of the West was more beloved by the Indians than the valleys of the Maumee and its tributaries. In the daily journal of Wayne's campaign, kept by George Will, under date of Aug. 6, 1794, when the army was encamped fifty-six miles in advance of Fort Recovery, the writer says: "We are within six miles of the Auglaize river, and I expect to eat green corn to-morrow.'" On the 8th of the same month, after the arrival of the army at the Camp Grand Auglaize (the site of Fort Defiance), he continues: "We have marched four or five miles in corn-fields down the Auglaize, and there is not less than 1,000 acres of corn around the town." This journal, kept from that time until the return of the army to Fort Greenville, is full of descriptions of the immense corn-fields, large vegetable patches, and old apple trees, found along the banks of the Maumee from its mouth to Fort Wayne. It discloses the astonishing fact that for a period of eight days while building Fort Defiance, the army obtained their bread and vegetables from the corn-fields and potato patches surrounding the fort. In their march from Fort Defiance to the foot of the rapids the army passed through a number of Indian towns composed of huts, constructed of bark and skins, which afforded evidence that the people who had once inhabited them were composed, not only of Indians, but of Canadian French and renegade Englishmen.

The Maumee Valley After Wayne's Victory. -What the condition of the valley was for some years after Wayne's campaign may be gathered from the following extracts from one of Judge Burnet's letters, published by the Ohio Historical Society. After assigning some reasons for the downfall of the Indians, he says: "My yearly trips to Detroit, from 1796 to 1802, made it necessary to pass through some of their towns, and convenient to visit many of them. Of course I had frequent opportunities of seeing thousands of them, in their villages and at their hunting camps, and of forming a personal acquaintance with some of their distinguished chiefs. I have eat and slept in their towns, and partaken of their hospitality, which had no limit but that of their contracted means. In journeying more

recently through the State, in discharging my judicial duties, I sometimes passed over the ground on which I had seen towns filled with happy families of that devoted race without perceiving the smallest trace of what had once been there. All their ancient settlements on the route to Fort Defiance, and from thence to the foot of the rapids, had been broken up and deserted.

The battle-ground of Gen. Wayne, which I had often seen in the rude state in which it was when the decisive action of 1794 was fought, was so altered and changed that I could not recognize it, and not an indication remained of the very extensive Indian settlements which I had formerly seen there. It seemed almost impossible that in so short a period such an astonishing change could have taken place.

These extracts prove that ever after the battle of Presque Isle, although crushed and humbled, the Indian refused to be divorced from the favorite home and numerous graves of his race. A chain of causes which followed this battle finally wrested from him the last foothold of his soil. These may be said to have commenced with the treaty of Greenville, made on the 3d of August, 1795, with the Wyandots, Ottawas, and other tribes located in this region. By this treaty, among various other cessions of territory, a tract of land twelve miles square at the foot of the rapids, and one of six miles square at the mouth of the river, were given to the United States. This treaty was followed by the establishment of the boundaries of the county of Wayne, which included a part of the States of Ohio, Indiana and the whole of Michigan.

The First White Settler.-Notwithstanding this actual declaration of ownership by the government, few only of the whites of the country were willing to penetrate and reside in this yet unforsaken abode of the Indian. Col. John Anderson was the first white trader of any notoriety on the Maumee. He settled at Fort Miami as early as 1800. Peter Manor, a Frenchman, was here previous to that time, and was adopted by the chief Fontogany, by the name of Sawendebans, or "the Yellow Hair." Manor, however, did not come here to reside until 1808. Indeed, I cannot learn the names of any of the settlers prior to 1810 except the two above mentioned. We may mention among those who came during the year 1810, Maj. Amos Spafford, Andrew Race, Thomas Leaming, Halsey W. Leaming, James Carlin, Wm. Carter, George Bla

lock, James Slason, Samuel H. Ewing, Jesse Skinner, David Hull. Thomas Dick, Wm. Peters, Ambrose Hickox, Richard Gifford. All these individuals were settled within a circumference of ten miles, embracing the amphitheatre at the foot of the rapids, as early as 1810. Maj. Amos Spafford came here to perform the duties of collector of the port of Miami. He was also appointed deputy postmaster. A copy of his return to the government as collector for the first quarter of his service, ending on the 30th June, 1810, shows the aggregate amount of exports to have been $5,640.85. This was, for skins and furs, $5,610.85, and for twenty gallons of bear's oil, $30.

When War Broke out in 1812 there were sixty-seven families residing at the foot of the rapids. Manor-or Minard, the Frenchman above alluded to-states that the first intimation that the settlers had of Hull's surrender at Detroit manifested itself by the appearance of a party of British and Indians at the foot of the rapids a few days after it took place. The Indians plundered the settlers on both sides of the river, and departed for Detroit in canoes.

Three of their number remained with the intention of going into the interior of the State. One of these was a Delaware chief by the name of Sac-a-manc. Manor won his confidence, under the pretence of friendship for the British, and was by him informed that in a few days a grand assemblage of all the northwestern tribes was contemplated at Fort Malden, and that in about two days after that assemblage a large number of British and Indians would be at the foot of the rapids, on their march to relieve Fort Wayne, then under investment by the American army, as was supposed. He also informed him that, when they came again, they would massacre all the Yankees found in the valley. Sac-a-mane left for the interior of the State, after remaining a day at the foot of the rapids.

Flight of the Settlers.-The day after his departure Minard called upon Maj. Spafford, and warned him of the hostile intentions of the Indians, as he had received them from Sac-a-manc. The major placed no confidence in them, and expressed a determination to remain until our army from the interior should reach this frontier. A few days after this conversation a man by the name of Gordon was seen approaching the residence of Maj. Spafford in great haste. This individual had been reared among the Indians, but had, previous to this time, received some favors of a trifling character from Maj. Spafford. The major met him in his corn-field, and was informed that a party of about fifty Pottawatomies, on their way to Malden, had taken this route, and in less than two hours would be at the foot of the rapids. He also urged the major to make good his escape immediately. Most of the families at the foot of the rapids had left the valley after receiving intelligence of Hull's surrender. The major assembled those that were left on the bank of the river, where they put in tolerable sail

ing condition an old barge, in which some officers had descended the river from Fort Wayne the year previous. They had barely time to get such of their effects as were portable on board, and row down into the bend below the town, before they heard the shouts of the Indians above. Finding no Americans here, the Indians passed on to Malden. The major and his companions sailed in their crazy vessel down the lake to the Quaker settlement at Milan, on Huron river, where they remained until the close of the war.

Sac-a-manc, on his return from the interior of the State, a few days after the event, showed Manor the scalps of three persons that he had killed during his absence, on Owl creek, near Mount Vernon. At the time mentioned by him a detachment of the British army, under command of Col. Elliott, accompanied by about 500 Indians, came to the foot of the rapids. They were anxious to obtain guides. Manor feigned lameness and ignorance of the country above the head of the rapids, a distance of eighteen miles up the river. By this means he escaped being pressed into their service above that point. He accompanied them that far with his cart and pony, and was then permitted to return. On his return he met Col. Elliott, the commander of the detachment, at the foot of Presque Isle Hill, who stopped him, and, after learning the services he had performed, permitted him, with a curse, to go on. A mile below him he met a party of about forty Pottawatomies, who also desired to know where he was going. Manor escaped being compelled to return by telling them he was returning to the foot of the rapids after forage for the army. The British and Indians pursued their march up the river until they saw the American flag waving over Winchester's encampment at Defiance, when they returned in double quick time to Canada. On their return they burned the dwellings, stole the horses and destroyed the corn-fields of the settlers at the foot of the rapids.

Manor, soon after his arrival at the foot of the rapids, went down the river to the British fleet, then lying at the mouth of Swan creek, under command of Capt. Mills. Here he reported himself, told what he had done for the army, and desired leave to go to his family at the mouth of the river. Capt. Mills, having no evidence of his loyalty beyond his own word, put him under hatches as a prisoner of war. Through the aid of his friend, Beaugrand, Minard was released in a few days, joined his family, and was afterwards a scout for our army during the remainder of the

war.

He is now (1846) living at the head of the rapids, on a reservation of land granted him by the government, at the request of his Indian father, Ton-tog-sa-ny. [Another account of Peter Manor is in Lucas County.]

After Peace was Declared, most of the settlers that had lived here previous to the war returned to their old possessions. They were partly indemnified by government for their losses. Many of them lived in the block-houses on Fort Meigs, and one or two