r several years on the staff of the _Ontario Messenger_,
which perhaps accounts for the interesting and newsy style in which his
journal is written. Certain it is that he showed more than usual ability
and training in narrating the experiences of the overland journey and
especially in painting a vivid picture of the prairies, the rivers and
mountains, the rocks and the flowers.

And so the Spring of 1850 found Mr. Smith leaving his place in the
composing room at Canandaigua and, after a brief farewell visit with his
family in Victor, he proceeded to Centreville, Indiana, from which town
he dated the first entry of his narrative. The journal itself tells the
rest of the story, and I am sure that the student of western history
will find it one of the most valuable of the contemporary journals of
the Forty-Niners and the Overland Trail.

R. W. G. Vail.
The Minnesota Historical Society, March 20, 1920.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] A portrait of the author, painted in East Bloomfield, N. Y., is
still owned by the family in Victor.--ED.

LETTER TO MOTHER.

April 10, 1853.

DEAR MOTHER:

I have concluded to send you my journal, not because I think it contains
anything of great interest, but because I know you will take it as an
evidence that I have not forgotten my Mother.

Nancy and I have been married two years today, and through that time
have walked peacefully along the path of life together, a path on which
little Alice now presses her tiny feet and, holding a little hand in
each of ours, will make our union more complete. It is now nearly six
years since I left home, a home which I then expected to see again in a
few months, and _would_ have seen had I been able to return in a better
condition than when I left it, for it is always expected that when a
young man goes out upon the world, it is to rise and prosper, and not
return in rags. And if it was not for that ambitious feeling that
forbids there are now thousands in California and Oregon, who would
instantly start for those good old homes on the other side of the Rocky
Mountains. In all my wanderings I have been singularly fortunate, always
having my health, and never meeting with those accidents which are
common to persons in an unsettled condition. In regard to the good
things of this world, I have reason to be grateful, rather however for
what we expect, than what we now enjoy, for our 640 acres of land are
lying in an unproductive state, and Nancy's mo