When I awakened we were at the dock at Mackinac Island. Everything was
white with snow. The whole island looked like white marble. The damp
snow had covered the trees. The fort on the hill looked so pretty where
the snow was on the tops of the houses and chimneys. A flag waved over
the fort. There were soldiers in their blue clothes walking up and down
the fort hill. Dogs and ponies hitched to sleds with people dressed in
fur coats, caps and mittens riding along the front street that reached
round the pretty bay. The dock was full of people. Men, women and
children nearly all speaking in French. There were a number of families
going away on the last boat to their winter homes. Elizabeth took me
ashore. We went into several stores and there I met old grandpa. I told
him I was going to see Charley. He was so pleased to see me and
cautioned me to be careful not to fall overboard and to be sure and tell
Charley grandpa had not forgotten him. Then he gave me packages of
candy, apples and raisins. I met several that knew me, as they were so
often with us at home. We walked down to the Mission House, as mother
had told me so much about the Mission. When Mr. Ferry was there mother
had attended the Mission school for a time. We saw Robinson's Folly with
the white snow covering the rocks and trees. We then came back to the
old Mission Church, and going inside I told Elizabeth my mother had
often taken me there when I was a baby. I showed her the Dousman pew in
front where the family used to sit, my mother being adopted by Mr. and
Mrs. Dousman. We then came to the "Old Agency House" with its quaint old
chimney outside at the end, its little dormer windows in the roof. It
was now all covered with the pure white snow and every shrub around its
doors was draped in white. We passed on, going toward the Grand, many
little houses covered with cedar bark and some had cedar bark put all
around the outside, with narrow strips of wood tacked on to hold it.
Some had little square windows with four and six panes of glass with
white muslin curtains. They looked like little toy houses, but were warm
and comfortable. It was a quaint little village full of jolly, kind
hearted people whose hearts were tender and true to their neighbors.
It being cold we soon went back to the boat. Our boat looked like a huge
snow bank beside the dock. The freight was being rolled over the plank
and all was confusion. There were handshakes and good-byes as the people
hurried over the plank. The "all aboard" was shouted, the plank was
pulled in, the paddles turned and we were moving away amid the waving of
caps and fluttering of handkerchiefs. Our whistle was saluting, and many
of the people on the dock joined in one of the old French-Canadian glee
or boat songs, their voices sounding far out over the waters as we
passed Round Island.