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Updated: June 9, 2025
While we admit most thoroughly with Mr Rogan that practical jokes are exceedingly bad, and productive frequently of far more evil than fun, we feel it our duty, as a faithful delineator of manners, customs, and character in these regions, to urge in palliation of the offence committed by the young gentlemen at York Fort, that they had really about as few amusements and sources of excitement as fall to the lot of any class of men.
"Oh, there was a long investigation, and the skipper got a blowing-up, and the doctor a warning to let Indians' skulls lie at peace in their graves for the future; and poor Butter was sent to McKenzie's River as a punishment, for old Rogan could never be brought to believe that he hadn't been a willing tool in the skipper's hands; and Anderson lost his batch of bread and his oven, for it had to be pulled down and a new one built."
"With a yell that rang through the whole fort, the horrified butler rushed through the kitchen and out at the front door, where, as ill-luck would have it, Mr Rogan happened to be standing at the moment. Pitching head first into the small of the old gentleman's back, he threw him off the platform and fell into his arms.
"Oh, there was a long investigation, and the skipper got a blowing- up, and the doctor a warning to let Indians' skulls lie at peace in their graves for the future, and poor Butter was sent to M'Kenzie's River as a punishment, for old Rogan could never be brought to believe that he hadn't been a willing tool in the skipper's hands; and Anderson lost his batch of bread and his oven, for it had to be pulled down and a new one built."
"So he seized the raccoon and killed him, and carried his body back to the tent of the blind men and made out of it a great feast for them, and declared that in future the old raccoons should have to carry as many circles on their tails as pieces of meat that had been stolen out of the rogan of the blind men." "Good for Nanahboozhoo!" shouted Sagastao. "Mr. Raccoon couldn't play any tricks on him.
"Ay," replied the doctor, who affected to be quite cool upon all occasions, and rather cooler than usual if the occasion was more than ordinarily exciting "ay, we do mean it. Old Rogan has got the packet, and is even now disembowelling it."
'They're all alike to me, said Kilgobbin; 'but if I was to choose, I think I'd say Dr. Chute. This was so far unlucky, since Dr. Chute had then been dead about forty years; scarcely a junior of the profession having so much as heard his name. 'We really want no one, said Rogan. 'We are doing most favourably in every respect.
His name is Sam Rogan and he lives now at the County Poor Farm. I make it a point not to dwell too much on slave times. I was learned different. I've had considerable schoolin', went to my first school in the old First Presbyterian church. My teachers was white folks from the North. They give us our education and give us clothes and things sent down here from the North.
Had the cast-iron stove suddenly burst into atoms and blown the roof off the house, it could scarcely have created greater consternation than that which filled the merry jesters when they beheld the visage of Mr Rogan, the superintendent of the fort, red with passion and fringed with snow.
Rogan and the inmates of Bachelors' Hall, one or two men who happened to be engaged there at the time in cutting a new water-hole in the ice, and an Indian, who, to judge from his carefully-adjusted costume, the snow-shoes on his feet, and the short whip in his hand, was the driver of the sledge, and was about to start on a journey.
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