tton mills, sewer-pipe factories, and potteries. W----
and I went up into the town, on an errand for supplies,--we distribute
our small patronage, for the sake of frequently going ashore,--and
were interested in noting the cheery tone of the business men, who
reported that the financial depression, noticeable elsewhere in the
Ohio Valley, has practically been unfelt here. Hawesville, Ky., just
across the river, has a similarly prosperous look, but we did not
row across to inspect it at close range. Tell City, Ind., three miles
below, is another flourishing factory town, whose wharf-boat was the
scene of much bustle. Four miles still lower down lies the sleepy
little Indiana village of Troy, which appears to have profited nothing
from having lively neighbors.

From the neighborhood of Derby, the environing hills had, as
we proceeded, been lessening in height, although still ruggedly
beautiful. A mile or two below Troy, both ranges suddenly roll back
into the interior, leaving broad bottoms on either hand, occasionally
edged with high clay banks, through which the river has cut its
devious way. At other times, these bottoms slope gently to the beach
and everywhere are cultivated with such care that often no room is
left for the willow fringe, which heretofore has been an ever-present
feature of the landscape. Hereafter, to the mouth, we shall for the
most part row between parallel walls of clay, with here and there
a bankside ledge of rock and shale, and now and then a cragged spur
running out to meet the river. We have now entered the great corn and
tobacco belt of the Lower Ohio, the region of annual overflow, where
the towns seek the highlands, and the bottom farmers erect their few
crude buildings on posts, prepared in case of exceptional flood to
take to boats.

The prevalent eagerness on the part of farmers to obtain the utmost
from their land made it difficult, this evening, to find a proper
camping-place. We finally found a narrow triangle of clay terrace,
in Indiana, at the mouth of Crooked Creek (727 miles), where not long
since had tarried a houseboater engaged in making rustic furniture. It
is a pretty little bit, in a group of big willows and sycamores, and
would be comfortable but for the sand-flies, which for the first time
give us annoyance. The creek itself, some four rods wide, and overhung
with stately trees, winds gracefully through the rich bottom; we have
found it a charming water to explore, being