Uncle Stephen having engaged some new hands,--who, being fresh from the "old country," were unwilling, as they were unfit, to go further into the forest,--allowed Mike and Quambo to come to us.  We therefore put up a room for them next to our own, and which could be heated in winter by the same stove.  We were thus able to get on much more rapidly with our task of clearing the ground.  Mike, indeed, was a great acquisition to our party; for, besides singing a good Irish song, he had learned to play the fiddle,--and, of course, he had brought his "Cremona," of which he was justly proud, along with him.  He beguiled the long winter evenings with many a merry tune, and not unfrequently set old Quambo dancing.  Sometimes we would look in; and we found it great fun to see Quambo, in the confined space of the cabin, coming the "double shuffle"--bounding up and down, and whirling round and round, snapping his fingers and stamping his feet, until the perspiration streamed down his sooty cheeks.  Mike would continue bobbing his head, meanwhile, and applauding with voice and gesture, though keeping his countenance, and looking as grave as a judge while listening to the counsel for a prisoner.