 the Mississippi, and is
therefore liable to be flooded at any time, the natives build their
little wooden houses on piles driven deep into the soft earth. These
houses look more like large pigeon-coops than human habitations, and
to enter the front door it is necessary to climb a steep ladder. It
is certainly lucky that poverty and distance from towns force these
people to be teetotallers, or half of them would often have to sleep
under their houses instead of in them. Of course, all Arkansas is
not like this, for there are a number of fine towns in the state,
and the people in those towns are as far advanced as in any other
town of the Union; but the truth must be told, that Arkansas is the
last place in the world to recover from the Great Flood; and that she
still persists in remaining in a damp condition, to breed snakes
and deadly flies, in spite of the efforts of her inhabitants to make
things otherwise. She is still in a condition to breed fever, and her
inhabitants are thin, and their skin is hard and leathery.

When I enquired of a native the distance to the next town he didn't
know. I asked him if it was two miles--he stared. I asked him if it
was fifty miles, but he still stared. It seemed that the poor fellow
did not understand mileage, so I asked how long it would take to walk
there. "Yer'll have to be right smart to get there by sundown," said
he. I then asked him the size of the town, but this he did not know,
for he had never been there, but came very near going there a year
ago. I then asked him if he knew anyone that had been there, and he
answered that "Ole man Johnson was there the fall before last." What
was Johnson's opinion of the town? "Right smart," said my man.

Of course I did not expect to find a town like London, New York,
or Chicago, or even a town with tramcars, but I must confess to
disappointment when I found nothing but a store, a railway station,
and five or six miserable-looking houses.

Another time I met a native of this same State of Arkansas, who was
well dressed, and seeme