UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES
 
 td UA\W ' 
 
 /ry 
 
 
 k iL-or t^- ' U/c"T< 

 
 CARLTON E. SANFORD
 
 Otters, ssaps 
 
 AND 
 
 BiograpMcal Sketches 
 
 C. E. SANFORD
 
 . 
 
 r . " r 
 
 THE SARATOGIAN PRINT 
 Saratoga Springs, N. Y.
 
 preface 
 
 A very large part of the articles contained in this volume 
 5J were first printed in the Courier and Freeman newspaper 
 
 at Potsdam, New York, at divers times during the past 
 CN thirty years. As will be observed, some are written in the 
 
 first person, others in the second person plural, while 
 others are in the third person. I may be wrong, but after 
 some reflection, I do not think it best to now change them in 
 X this respect from the form in which they were first written. 
 
 If my readers will keep in mind the fact that they were writ 
 ten here in the village of Potsdam, about it and its people 
 and affairs, some appearing as editorials and others as com- 
 
 *VJ 
 
 munications, I feel sure no trouble will arise from this in- 
 ^ consistency. 
 
 t^ Scattered through many of the articles are items of a his- 
 
 > torical nature which, through lapse of time, are already be- 
 
 ^ coming of interest. To preserve these for the future, mingled 
 
 with the hope that the volume may afford pleasure to a few 
 
 and be of interest to others, has induced, and is my only 
 
 J%. excuse for its publication. 
 
 C. E. SANFORD. 
 v Potsdam, N. Y., July, 1907.
 
 In the memory of my father, Hon. Jonah Sanford, Jr., a 
 bright and sensible man, who strove to help his children, 
 and of my mother, Clarinda (Risdon) Sanford, a gentle and 
 noble woman, this work is feelingly inscribed.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Wherein Lies Greatness? 1 
 
 Checker Playing 11 
 
 A " Sitting " with Dr. Henry Blade 15 
 
 Flag Presentation 25 
 
 Hon. Jonah Sanf ord 34 
 
 Was Conkling Invited? 39 
 
 Permelia S. Brooks 43 
 
 The Sewers and Board of Trustees 46 
 
 License or No-License? 59 
 
 Prayer in War 72 
 
 Henry Gurley Brooks 76 
 
 Shooting Does 80 
 
 Hon. William A. Dart 85 
 
 Aching for War 91 
 
 Elliott Fay 99 
 
 Will War Ever Cease? 105 
 
 Mother 110 
 
 On the Lawn with the Birds 113 
 
 Hon. George Z. Erwin 125 
 
 Oyster Farming 133 
 
 Thomas S. Clark-son. . , 143
 
 yi Contents 
 
 Athens Versus Bull Dogs 149 
 
 Hon. Charles 0. Tappan 156 
 
 Hon. Erasmus D. Brooks 162 
 
 " Peel " Willey, Examination of 169 
 
 Hon. John Gr. Mclntyre 174 
 
 Mary P. Foster 179 
 
 An Outing in Canada 182 
 
 Hon. William McKinley 206 
 
 Daniel Webster. Power of Magnificent Pres 
 ence 211 
 
 Judge Leslie W. Russell 214 
 
 Japan and Eussia. Is War a Divine Method! 222 
 
 The Spider and Man 233 
 
 A Mexican Bull Fight 246 
 
 Some Sketches of California 257 
 
 Santa Catalina Island 271 
 
 Ascent of Mount Lowe. 275 
 
 A Visit to the Lick Observatory, &c 280 
 
 Oeorge S. Wright 286 
 
 Lincoln's Gettysburg Address 291 
 
 Dr. Reynold M. Kirby 302 
 
 Abbie S. Landers 307 
 
 The Farmer Boys of Fifty Years Ago and 
 
 Now 311 
 
 Trusts and 1 Combinations . . . 379
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Carlton E. Sanf ord Frontispiece 
 
 Col. Jonah Sanford 25 
 
 Jonah Sanf ord, Jr 34 
 
 Permelia S. Brooks 43 
 
 Hosea Bicknell 46 
 
 William H. Walling 51 
 
 Charles L. Hackett 54 
 
 Henry Gurley Brooks 76 
 
 William A. Dart 85 
 
 Elliot Fay 99 
 
 George Z. Erwin 125 
 
 Charles 0. Tappan 156 
 
 Erasmus D. Brooks 162 
 
 John G. Mclntyre 174 
 
 Judge Leslie W. Russell 214 
 
 Bull Ring 246 
 
 Lick Observatory 280 
 
 George S. Wright 286 
 
 Dr. Reynold M. Kirby 302 
 
 Abbie S. Landers 307 
 
 Carlton E. and Silas H. Sanford 311 
 
 Pulling Off Boots 324 
 
 Spelling Class 324 
 
 Painting the Rooster 334 
 
 Washing Boy's Feet 334 
 
 Boy Inside Barrel 352 
 
 Boy After Cows Thistles in Feet 352 
 
 Boy Milking 364 
 
 Teaching Calves to Drink 364
 
 Wherein lies (Sreatness? 
 
 I 
 
 AM aware that my views on this all im 
 portant subject are not in accordance 
 with the belief 'of many; however, I feel 
 at liberty in this age of " free speech 
 and free press " to express them as best I can. 
 Were a young man to put the above interrogatory 
 to a hundred men, nine-tenths of them would 
 answer, Greatness lies in labor. 
 
 Now this article does not deny that labor is 
 essential to greatness, but it does deny, and will 
 endeavor to show, that it is not the chief requi 
 site of greatness. As I shall confine my remarks 
 to man, it perhaps would not be amiss to inquire 
 what is man, and what are his functions? Ac 
 cording to the Scriptures, he is a rational being, 
 fashioned after the image of his Maker, and en 
 dowed with certain abilities. According to 
 chemistry, he is a shovelful of earth and a pailful 
 of water. 
 
 Be his composition what it may, his essential 
 characteristics, above all other species of being, 
 are his erect position, powers of speech, and 
 ability for reasoning. Now the first and last of 
 
 Phrenological Journal, March, 1871.
 
 Letters-Essays 
 
 these peculiarities are, beyond a doubt, inherent 
 in man's organization. 
 
 Again: man was endowed with these and other 
 powers that he might make all things subservient 
 to his physical, intellectual, and moral growth. 
 If, as they would have us believe, intellectual 
 greatness lies in labor, then the positions once oc 
 cupied by Shakespeare, Milton, and Newton, be 
 ing open to all, are within the reach of those who 
 labor. If this be true, we must have many 
 Shakespeares and Miltons ; but, alas ! where is the 
 second " Julius Caesar " or " Paradise Lost " ? 
 
 Unfortunately, for some, this is not the case, 
 and this paper will attempt to prove that su 
 perior intellect or greatness lies behind man, so 
 to speak, in Him who created him. All that is 
 required to do this is to show that the dissimi 
 larity existing among men, not only in outward 
 resemblance, but in intellectual powers, originates 
 in their native constitution. 
 
 Now, there are some so bigoted or prejudiced in 
 favor of old doctrines, that reasoning is to them 
 a delusion. They claim that every man makes 
 himself, and are contented with their belief. If 
 perseverance, as they say, is alone the donor of 
 greatness, we must have many unknown Frank 
 lins scattered through the land, for there are 
 many men who are striving as hard as he ever 
 did to become enlightened, but who, wanting na 
 ture's strong aid, must live and die in obscurity. 
 Now all that is required to convince them of
 
 Wherein Lies Greatness? 
 
 their error and of the fallacy of their theory is 
 observation. But as they do not wish to put 
 themselves to so slight a trouble, let us look at 
 the subject from a general standpoint. There 
 are now something over one billion of human 
 beings living upon the same food, breathing the 
 same air, and warmed by the same solar body. 
 And yet no one claims that any two are alike 
 either in disposition, passion, wisdom, or in any 
 of the peculiarities of man. How has this great 
 dissimilarity come about? Were all men created 
 with equal powers, all the training that could be 
 devised by the ingenious mind of man could not 
 bring about such a dissimilitude. But I hear 
 them cry, " Circumstances alter cases." Yes, I 
 grant it; but they can not destroy they only 
 modify what nature decrees and constructs. 
 
 They tell you circumstances make men, when 
 these rather offer opportunities for men to show 
 their abilities. You may turn the stream from its 
 course, but you can not prevent its onward pro 
 gress to the sea. You may allure a mathematical 
 genius from his Euclid for a moment with classi 
 cal mythology only that he shall return to his old 
 love with the greater zest. Eeally, circumstances 
 work marvelous changes, yet they can not cre 
 ate they only affect. You may conceal a fire 
 with ashes, but you do not extinguish it you 
 only make it the warmer inside. Just so a 
 stranger in a foreign land will in time forget his 
 own tongue; nevertheless his genius for mathe-
 
 Letters-Essays 
 
 matics, poetry, painting, or whatever it may be, 
 is not destroyed. 
 
 Do circumstances create this dissimilarity? 
 Let us see. Let us go into a thriving village 
 where the general circumstances are the same. 
 Churches, schools, laws, customs, news-rooms, and 
 dramshops are alike to all. But lo! this same 
 dissimilarity exists. There are moral, wicked, in 
 telligent, unintelligent, industrious and indolent 
 people here as elsewhere. But, they say, the poor 
 can not, or do not, associate with the rich, and 
 thus two classes are made. To some extent this 
 is true. But let us go farther. Let us peep within 
 a private household, governed by the same head, 
 and watched over by the same tender, motherly 
 care. Here circumstances can not be brought to 
 bear, for the same mother nurses them in their 
 youth, watches over them in their childhood, and 
 advises them without partiality. But are they 
 alike in every particular ? Most certainly not, and 
 it would be idle to argue it. Many are the cler 
 gymen's sons who lead a miserable life in dram 
 shops and gambling dens, after all the Christian 
 training and good moral lessons they have re 
 ceived. How is it? They have turned their backs 
 on noble circumstances and taken the hand of 
 vice and crime. They can not cry, " Oh! the way 
 the twig is bent the tree is inclined," for the 
 twig was started upright, and no saplings of vice 
 were allowed to take root near it. 
 
 There is no perfect man, and consequently all
 
 \ 
 Wherein Lies Greatness? 5 
 
 men have more or less of those passions which 
 are akin to evil. These are what bend the human 
 twig, and if they are stronger than his resolution, 
 he is a vagabond. Since they claim there are 
 two classes, viz., the rich and poor, let us enter 
 the poor man's hut. 
 
 There, in one corner, sits a studious youth 
 poring over his lessons. In another part of the 
 room are his brothers quarreling over a misdeal 
 at euchre, or spending their time in some other 
 unprofitable manner. How came the former with 
 such a burning desire for knowledge, and the lat 
 ter with such a hatred for study, after being 
 brought up under the same roof and circum 
 stances? Tell me, ye who believe in equal in 
 tellectual powers. I have not pictured an uncom 
 mon instance. Far from it. Many similar ex 
 amples are recorded in history, and many are yet 
 to be recorded. I have only to cite you to the 
 early childhood days of Horace Greeley, one of 
 America's leading benefactors. Who does not 
 fancy he can now see him, as biography states it, 
 lying upon the floor of their humble cottage, and 
 by the light of a pine-knot intently at study not 
 withstanding the annoyances of his playing com 
 panions. Tell me if the lad of a poor but indus 
 trious family of Kentucky, to whom neither acad 
 emy nor college was ever opened, and who spent 
 his youth in clearing the forest, and his full man 
 hood in guiding the councils of his country 
 through a great war, did not rise up in a similar
 
 Letters-Essays 
 
 manner? He had little or no schooling, and 
 scarcely any books with which to awaken in him 
 a thirst for knowledge. Circumstances were 
 against him; but he had within him that which 
 education can not supply, that which is bound 
 to lift man above circumstances and his fellow- 
 man. That the powers which have made such men 
 great and famous were innate seems to me con 
 clusive. But now they tell us education creates 
 this dissimilarity. Let us see. 
 
 Take, for instance, two men equally well edu 
 cated in the same medical school. You go to one 
 and tell him your ills, and, as best you can, what 
 the trouble is. He listens attentively, examines 
 your pulse, looks at your tongue and says you 
 are threatened with a fever, and gives you a dose 
 which he thinks will break it up. Time passes 
 along, but you do not get any better, and so you 
 go and see the other. He goes through with the 
 same investigations and says you have all the 
 symptoms of apoplexy. 
 
 Take another instance. Here are two reverend 
 gentlemen, both well educated, who are spend 
 ing their lives in studying the Holy Book and 
 preaching its precepts. One goes from place to 
 place preaching the existence of a place of pun 
 ishment in the hereafter ; while the other preaches 
 that there is no such place as " hell." Thus we 
 find mental differences in every department of 
 life, which lie in the native constitution of men. 
 There is the source or fountain-head of in-
 
 Wherein Lies Greatness? 
 
 tellectual greatness and also of intellectual infe 
 riority. Therein, to a great extent, lie man's 
 character, principles, and acts in life; and these 
 are the catalogue of the man. If in a man 
 judgment is wanting, he is like a vessel at sea 
 without a rudder. If he is wanting reason, he 
 is like an engine without a governor. If he is 
 wanting ambition, he is like an engine without 
 steam. But if he has all the powers or faculties 
 so blended or united that each works for the good 
 of the others, he will pass on like the giant loco 
 motive, carrying with him multitudes who are 
 ready and willing to pay him homage and ap 
 plaud his greatness. All history proves this, tra 
 dition corroborates it, and observation will con 
 firm it. Just look back upon the vast expanse 
 of time, and of that multitude of humanity who 
 have lived and perished, and see how many 
 gained that fame which time can not destroy. 
 For every one that yet lives, I venture to say a 
 hundred thousand are sleeping in forgotten 
 graves, and " the places that once knew them 
 know them no more." Here and there we see 
 bright stars on which are written in ineffaceable 
 letters such names as Homer, Shakespeare, Mil 
 ton, and Newton. They were extraordinary men, 
 possessing abilities far superior to nearly all of 
 their fellow-men. The Creator lavished upon 
 them His greatest bounty a giant intellect. The 
 theory of equal powers is a delusion, and, thank 
 Heaven, it is fast dying out.
 
 8 Letters-Essays 
 
 It is said that no man could meet Daniel Web 
 ster without saying, ''He is an extraordinary 
 man." His every feature and movement struck 
 you as being singularly grand. His high, mas 
 sive forehead was alone sufficient, says a cotem- 
 porary, " to impress any one with a feeling of 
 admiration." And this man, by some thought 
 to be America's greatest son, had the next largest 
 brain on record. I do not claim that every in 
 telligent man has a large brain. Far from it. 
 A small brain may be so evenly balanced as to 
 bring forth better results than many larger ones. 
 
 Many strong minds have gone down to ruin 
 on account of their lower powers being predom 
 inant. The towering forehead, keen eye, and ex 
 pressive countenance are all the work of the Cre 
 ator through nature, as are also all of the in 
 tellectual powers. She molds the man and gives 
 to each certain abilities. And when it is said 
 that to her we owe all that we are and all that 
 we may be, my conscientious belief is expressed. 
 
 But in all that has been said, the writer does 
 not wish to be understood as disparaging any 
 young man from getting an education. It is his 
 right, his duty, and it is the duty of every intelli 
 gent man to assist him. Because a man has 
 meager powers, it is no reason why he should 
 forsake their culture. So much the more he 
 should strive to become enlightened that he may 
 appreciate the intelligence of others. There are 
 but few men who can not by persistent effort be-
 
 Wherein Lies Greatness? 
 
 come masters of some branch in the world's work. 
 Stephenson, it is said, could neither read nor 
 write, yet by untiring perseverance he came off 
 victorious and was one of the world's greatest 
 benefactors. 
 
 Some men look with contempt upon those whom 
 nature has not so well favored. Such can not be 
 aware that small minds are as essential to the 
 world's equilibrium as large ones. Were every 
 man either a Johnson or a Butler, the world 
 would be in continual dissension and turmoil. 
 Every man would consider his views to be the 
 more beneficial to the country. Every rock and 
 stump in the land would support a shouting 
 orator. The plowshare would rust in the furrow, 
 the fire go out in the forge, and the gutters would 
 fill up with filth. But fortunately this dilemma 
 will never occur, as the Creator has decreed 
 otherwise. 
 
 A word to the young man, and I am done. Of 
 all the sermons ever uttered, there are none bet 
 ter for you than this: " Know thyself." From 
 the fact that observation teaches us that different 
 men are constituted by the Creator with differ 
 ent aptitudes for different pursuits, it behooves 
 every young man to study himself, to learn if 
 possible for what calling nature has best 
 equipped him. When he has determined this, he 
 should give a loose rein to that spirit which 
 throbs within him and bend every power to make 
 it a success, remembering that
 
 10 Letters-Essays 
 
 " One science only can one genius fit, 
 So vast is art, so narrow human wit." 
 Learn to bridle those passions or powers which 
 would lead you astray, otherwise your attempt 
 is an almost certain failure. All men seem to 
 have a passion for becoming distinguished; but 
 as eminence is only allotted to a few, patience 
 of obscurity is a duty we owe to ourselves and 
 to the quiet of the world. If you take as your 
 motto " justice and perseverance," you may at 
 last burst forth into light; " but if frequent fail 
 ure convinces you of that mediocrity of nature 
 which is incompatible with great actions, submit 
 wisely and cheerfully to your lot." 
 
 NOTE The foregoing was written long ago when I was 
 younger. My observations since would lead me now to 
 give more credit to labor. A boy of fair abilities pos 
 sessing indomitable perseverance, will get further and higher 
 and accomplish more than a boy of great ability who lacks 
 perseverance.
 
 Checker placing 
 
 N a recent evening in Firemen's Hall, in 
 Potsdam, Mr. J. Dempster, a young man 
 of about thirty years, who hails from 
 Jefferson County, gave an exhibition of 
 checker playing memorizing and reasoning 
 which excelled anything of the kind I have ever 
 seen. He has five checker boards about two and 
 a half feet square, with the squares on which the 
 men are moved numbered consecutively in large 
 figures from one to thirty-two. The men are 
 held in place by a pin inserted in a hole in the 
 board. The boards stand upright against the 
 wall, so that spectators can witness the playing. 
 
 By his bills he invites five of the best local 
 players to be present and test their wits with 
 him. He was quite fortunate here in getting 
 good players. Our best, or at least those who 
 have taken great delight heretofore in getting 
 their fellows into a hole, a corner or some sort 
 of situation from which there was no escape but 
 annihilation, and who have made many a poor 
 fellow stew and perspire, rub his eyes and 
 scratch his head, in his endeavor to study his way 
 out, were on hand. On this occasion each of the
 
 12 Letters-Essays 
 
 five local heroes took a seat in front of the five 
 boards. Mr. Dempster sat over in the corner of 
 the room to the right of and with his back to the 
 boards. He did not turn about during the play 
 ing and had he done so it would have been of no 
 help to him as he could not have seen the face 
 of the boards. He offered to be blindfolded, but 
 as all were satisfied he could not see the boards 
 it was dispensed with. A person was selected to 
 do the moving of the men for Mr. Dempster and 
 the playing began, Mr. Dempster taking the first 
 move on all the boards. Then local player num 
 ber one moved, stating the number from which 
 and to which he moved his man, so that Mr. 
 Dempster could hear it. Mr. Dempster would 
 then direct what move to make in response by 
 giving the number from which and to which he 
 wished his man moved. When done the moving 
 was repeated on each of the other four boards in 
 their order and in the same manner, so that 
 there were five games going simultaneously. No 
 two games were alike, and after a few moves 
 had been made, any one who knows anything 
 about the game can readily see that matters got 
 intricate and involved in all sorts of schemes 
 and plans, each player trying to entrap Mr. 
 Dempster and he each of them. All the local 
 players being good ones and some of them ex 
 ceedingly apt at the game, the playing soon be 
 came interesting and exceedingly hot, so to speak, 
 and so continued till the collapse came.
 
 Checker Playing 13 
 
 The games lasted for three hours and Mr. 
 Dempster had no aid whatever as to the position 
 of the men on any of the boards but his memory. 
 Very often he would direct his move immedi 
 ately, but at other times it would take him sev 
 eral minutes to do so. He had, of course, not 
 only to keep the position of his own men, and all 
 of them, on all the boards, but those of his op 
 ponents in his memory, and then to hold the 
 board before his mind while he studied out the 
 move to make. When playing on one board he 
 must necessarily drop out of his mind the other 
 four, and then when it came his turn to move 
 on another, bring that board up for study. To 
 all who witnessed the playing it seemed not only 
 astonishing, but amazing, and one gentleman so 
 much doubted his own senses that he went and 
 made a careful and thorough inspection and ex 
 amination of Mr. Dempster for some hidden 
 spring, mirror, trap or other device by which he 
 felt he must be getting some help. I noticed 
 one thing which gave me some annoyance, and 
 that was that while playing he chewed tobacco 
 rather too freely for a clear and full action of 
 the mind. He only made one error in directing 
 a move to be made and in this he claimed he 
 had got board four confounded with board three, 
 but no one helped him and he soon cleared the 
 matter up. 
 
 Mr. Dempster beat in four of the games, in 
 the other with Mr. Henry C. Batchelder he made
 
 14 Letters-Essays 
 
 it a draw. On the following evening he played 
 again, beating all five of his competitors. As an 
 exhibition of memory I think it the most re 
 markable performance I have ever seen, and so 
 did all who were present. In other ways and 
 things, especially in executive ability, I hardly 
 think Mr. Dempster is equal to the average citi 
 zen. I hear that one of our leading citizens 
 (not a spiritualist) stated to him that if he had 
 claimed it was not he who played but the spirit 
 of one who had gone, who, while on earth, was 
 passionately fond of the game, and that he simply 
 moved as such spirit directed, that he would have 
 been more puzzled, and that it would have added 
 one more to the many mysterious things that 
 happen for which there seems to be no other or, 
 at least, so easy solution or explanation.
 
 Spirits 
 
 H "Sitting" Mitb tbe Celebrates 
 2>r. Ibenn? Slafce 
 
 D 
 
 E. HENEY SLADE, the world famous 
 spiritual medium, arrived in this village 
 from Malone on Monday, Nov. 5th, 1883, 
 and took rooms at the Albion House. He 
 is probably the most successful and famous me 
 dium who has yet appeared. He has traveled 
 extensively, not only in this country, but in Eu 
 rope, Asia, etc. All grades of men and women, 
 from crowned heads to peasants, have taken seats 
 at his table and been greatly amazed and bewil 
 dered by his manifestations of spiritual phe 
 nomena. 
 
 In Germany he had the attention of several of 
 the cold, calculating, unbelieving professors for 
 which that country is famous, and he so bewil 
 dered them that one of them wrote a new work on 
 physics. 
 
 Not long ago the New York Tribune contained 
 a column report of a " sitting " with Dr. Slade
 
 16 Letters-Essays 
 
 by one of its reporters. According to that report 
 the phenomena produced was marvelous, I might 
 almost say miraculous. 
 
 Having read so much of him I was anxious to 
 take a " sitting " and witness the phenomena 
 with my own eyes. Accordingly another gentle 
 man and myself called on him soon after his ar 
 rival. He received us pleasantly, but could not 
 give us a sitting then, but would in the evening. 
 My companion did not seem to be impressed with 
 the doctor and declined to accompany me again. 
 That evening Mr. W. H. Brooks and myself 
 called on the doctor and took a " sitting." Dr. 
 Slade claims to be a medium a person peculiarly 
 organized charged with magnetism or some 
 other subtle influence or agent, and so organized 
 and gifted by the Almighty, for the express pur 
 pose of mediumship, that the spirits of the de 
 parted may through him, and such as he, com 
 municate with the living. If that be true, he has 
 certainly a high calling, and it should be known 
 by all. If it be not true, then, certainly, he should 
 be exposed, and not be allowed to prey upon the 
 credulity of men. I am not against spiritualism, 
 although I do not believe in spirit manifesta 
 tions, so-called. However, I would treat this, as 
 every other question, fairly and investigate it 
 thoroughly. With this, surely, no one can com 
 plain. In giving this report of our " sitting," I 
 shall endeavor to avoid all feeling or prejudice, 
 simply stating what took place.
 
 A " Sitting " With Dr. Slade 17 
 
 We told the doctor that we were skeptics, and 
 he replied that those were the men he desired to 
 meet. He had a bare, plain board table, with 
 leaves. On this sat the lamp. Just behind him 
 was a stand on which were several articles. He 
 said that he could promise nothing, that he could 
 not control the manifestations, that the conditions 
 must be favorable or nothing could be done, that 
 he could not tell as to conditions until he had 
 tried for phenomena. 
 
 He arose and took from the stand two small 
 slates with wood frames and handed them to us. 
 We examined and found them clean. He took 
 them and turned and stepped to the stand, the 
 while speaking to us of the pencil he used, and 
 instantly returned to us with two slates and 
 several bits of pencil. Immediately, he said, we 
 will begin, and directed Mr. B. to place his right 
 hand near my left, well towards the center of the 
 table, so he could place his left hand on each, 
 and for us to join our other hands. This brought 
 Mr. B. and myself close up to the table. The 
 doctor sat nearly sidewise, at the end of the 
 table. A chair sat opposite me, well up to the 
 table, and turned facing the doctor. The doctor 
 placed a bit of pencil about three-fourths of an 
 inch in length on one slate and then the other slate 
 over and upon this. He took them at the end in 
 his right hand, having the fingers extended under 
 the slates, and his thumb on top, and carried 
 them below the table and under the corner of
 
 18 Letters-Essays 
 
 the leaf, moving them toward himself and then 
 out into view, keeping them, or at least his arm, 
 on the move all the time. He placed his left 
 hand on ours and instantly removed it, acting as 
 if he were frightened, saying one of us was highly 
 charged. After two or three trials, he got so 
 he could keep his hand on ours. Mr. B. then 
 asked to see the inside of the slates and he 
 brought them up and opened them. They were 
 clean and the bit of pencil was there. He took 
 them back below the table and at once we heard 
 rapping. The doctor asked if he could place 
 the slates on my shoulder. I said certainly. He 
 did so, keeping his hand under them as before. 
 At once we heard a noise very similar to slate 
 pencil writing. We joked and laughed, the doc 
 tor joining in, but the " writing " kept on. He re 
 marked how similar the noise was to pencil 
 writing. I said yes; but how do we know but 
 that one of your fingers under the slate is doing 
 itf He replied that he couldn't make such a 
 noise with his finger nail. Presently there was 
 rapping and he placed the slates on the table and 
 opened them. The lower slate had a full page 
 of good writing in straight lines, light hand, cor 
 rectly punctuated and signed J. Lawrence. He 
 asked if we were acquainted with him. We said 
 we were not, never knew any such person. He 
 seemed greatly surprised and soon after asked 
 us again. I asked him if he did not know him, 
 and he said he did not. I have since been told
 
 A " Sitting " With Dr. Slade 19 
 
 that he was a spiritualist and died in this town 
 a few years ago. He then placed a bit of pencil 
 on a pencil mark, on the slate, and also placed 
 an ordinary slate pencil on the slate next the 
 frame and carried the slate below the table as 
 before. Very soon the pencil came in a curve on 
 the table, and the bit of pencil remained on the 
 pencil mark. 
 
 Then he placed a bit of pencil on the slate and 
 carried it below the table, moving it to and fro, 
 and orally asked if the gentleman at his right 
 was a medium. He remarked that chairs were 
 sometimes thrown about, and very soon the va 
 cant chair fell over rather violently. We waited 
 some two minutes for a reply, and during this 
 time he was talking to us upon topics foreign to 
 the occasion, as I then surmised, and now be 
 lieve, to get our attention. As I said, I had to 
 look over my shoulder to watch him and then 
 could not see the slate except when it came by 
 the edge of the leaf. I noticed, however, that his 
 arm had quite a swing, bringing the slate well 
 over his knees. Mr. B. could not see anything 
 except the movement of his arm above the elbow. 
 Finally, we heard writing and he soon placed 
 the slate on the table. The words " He is " were 
 there, but in a poor, scrawly hand. Then he re 
 peated this, asking if Mr. B. was a medium, and 
 after taking about the same time he got the re 
 ply " He is not," in a similar scrawly hand. 
 
 He then asked me to write a question on the
 
 20 Letters-Essays 
 
 slate. I did so. This was turned down and a 
 bit of pencil placed on the top of the slate and 
 the slate carried below the table as before. The 
 question was in two parts and occupied nearly 
 two lines. The name of the person I addressed 
 was plain and distinct; the balance of the ques 
 tion was rather indistinct, owing to the oily con 
 dition of the slate. I noticed he soon gave his 
 arm a rather long swing, occasionally bringing 
 the slate nearly or quite over his lap. Very soon 
 he asked, * * You did not write but one question ? ' ' 
 I replied that I did not. He went on with the 
 movement and soon said, " You are sure you did 
 not write but one question? " I said I was. Soon 
 after he brought up the slate and at the same 
 moment said the person I addressed (giving his 
 name) was not present and took a wet sponge 
 and began wiping out the writing or scrawls that 
 were on the slate. As soon as I saw what he was 
 doing I reached for the slate, but it was too late. 
 I asked why he did not let us see it. He said he 
 was sorry, that he didn't think, etc. I got a 
 glance of what was on the slate and, if it was 
 writing, it was miserably poor. There certainly 
 was not half as much on the slate as he orally 
 stated; of this I am sure. What puzzles me is: 
 Where he got the whole of the reply he gave to 
 us. Not from the slate, for it was not there. 
 Time and again he told us he was as ignorant 
 as we of the communications until he read them 
 on the slate.
 
 A " Sitting " With Dr. Slade 21 
 
 I tlien asked if I could not put my head under 
 the table and watch. He replied, " Certainly, I 
 have no objection. I court the closest scrutiny." 
 Accordingly I moved back, bringing my hands 
 nearly to the edge of the table so I could put 
 my head under. The doctor said, " No, that 
 won't do. You must put your hand over there," 
 (near to center of table). I did so, but got my 
 head under the leaf and asked him to proceed. 
 He commenced moving the slate as before, and 
 immediately we heard rapping. We had heard 
 this rapping at the beginning of every trial, and 
 I thought we were going to have another com 
 munication. But the doctor knew the rap, it 
 seems, for he put up the slate and said that was 
 the signal for the flight of the spirits; that they 
 were gone; that he could not control them; that 
 we could not do anything more that evening. 
 
 Mr. B. says that he will take his oath that there 
 was a third slate on the stand. From my position 
 I could not see as well as he. At any rate, I 
 can't see why he did not bring the bits of pencil 
 in the first instance with the slates, why it was 
 necessary to take the slates back to the stand 
 with him, to get the pencils. 
 
 The other communications were only a word or 
 two, and a clever juggler could easily have put 
 the slate between his knees or in his lap, kept 
 his arm swinging to deceive us, written the word 
 or two, picked up the slate, swung it again and 
 brought it forth.
 
 22 Letters-Essays 
 
 But what satisfied us that he does it himself 
 more than anything else that took place was the 
 trouble he had over the question I asked. The 
 form in which I wrote it made it look, at a casual 
 glance, as if there were two questions. As he does 
 not get any aid from the spirit, is it not fair to 
 assume that he got his eye on the writing? What 
 was it to him whether I asked one or more ques 
 tions? He had nothing to do about it, as he 
 stated time and again. The spirits were the ones 
 to complain. If a spirit can answer one question 
 why can't it answer two? If a spirit can't answer 
 two it can't do as well as when in the flesh. But 
 as I believe, his only point in asking about the 
 two questions was -to break the long suspense 
 and get time to read the question. The name was 
 plain and he got that. The rest of the question 
 was rather indistinct and he couldn't decipher it. 
 So he tells us the person addressed is not pres 
 ent. Surely that is vague and general enough. 
 Whether that or any part of it was on the slate, 
 no one except he and the spirit that wrote it will 
 ever know. 
 
 Again his warning us that chairs were some 
 times thrown over and the chair being almost 
 immediately upturned, fairly shows that he 
 knew that the spirit which throws chairs was 
 present, while he repeatedly asserted that he 
 knew not the purpose or even presence of a 
 spirit until the phenomena appeared. Whether 
 he or the spirit turned it, I do not know,
 
 A " Sitting With Dr. Slade 23 
 
 but certainly lie could easily have done it with 
 his foot. 
 
 Then, also, the hasty flight of the spirits after 
 putting my head under the table, which he as 
 sented to and encouraged, seems, at least to a 
 skeptic, as a little strange. Surely the spirits 
 were not frightened, and if there were present 
 spirits from the unseen world, would they not 
 eagerly embrace every opportunity to remove all 
 doubt? 
 
 Other persons (spiritualists) who had " sit 
 tings " with the doctor tell us of most wonderful 
 phenomena taking place, such as a chair rising 
 some two feet with a person upon it, the doctor 
 simply touching the chair; getting long communi 
 cations, they having hold of the slate all the time, 
 and in the original handwriting of the departed. 
 I should have been pleased to see something of 
 this kind, and expected to from such a medium 
 as Dr. Slade. In all that I have seen or read, I 
 have never known of such phenomena taking 
 place in the presence of a skeptic. 
 
 I asked the doctor if the writing between the 
 slates was done with the bit of pencil placed be 
 tween them. He said it was. I then said that 
 the communication from J. Lawrence was in a 
 fine hand. To write thus finely the pencil must 
 have been nearly on end. The pencil was % of 
 an inch in length. The slates were only about M> 
 of an inch apart. How could the pencil stand up 
 to write thus finely, and, especially, how could it
 
 24 Letters-Essays 
 
 stand up at all, without also writing upon the 
 upper slate. He said he could not tell; that it 
 was one of the many mysteries. 
 
 NOTE This was not written, nor is it included here, as 
 an attack on spiritualism. I have no knowledge that what 
 they teach is not true. Their main claim, as I understand, 
 is that the spirits of the departed remain on this planet or 
 come hack to it on occasion. Why may they not remain 
 or come back here, since as the whole Christian world 
 teaches that they can and do go to a far distant celestial 
 sphere or abode?
 
 COL. JONAH SANFORD
 
 (Hn Hfcfcrese*) 
 
 |E. PEESIDENT Members of the Col. 
 Jonah Sanford Grand Army Post: 
 
 It gives me great pleasure to be with 
 you on this occasion. Aside from the 
 gratification of meeting many whom I know, the 
 presentation just made to you of this elegant 
 flag is doubly pleasing to me. If it were not, I 
 should confess myself wanting in all the finer 
 sensibilities which animate our natures. 
 
 Any exhibition of gratitude is ever a welcome 
 and a pleasing sight. In fact, gratitude is one 
 of the finest and noblest attributes of our na 
 tures and he who is without it is a poor creature 
 indeed. I would as soon that reason should for 
 sake me, as to be bereft of gratitude. 
 
 The flag which has just been presented to you 
 is the generous gift of ladies whose hearts are 
 warmed by the blood of him whose memory you 
 
 *Delivered at Nicholville, N. Y., July 4, 1884.
 
 26 Letters-Essays 
 
 have honored. It is their testimonial of grati 
 tude for your very generous and kindly act. With 
 it, also, towards you, goes woman's gentleness 
 and love certainly a no more fitting tribute of 
 regard could be made to a soldier of the repub 
 lic. If there be anything which is dear to him, 
 it is the flag, under which, and for which, he 
 fought. 
 
 For its supremacy he bore, without murmur, all 
 the trials and hardships of war, and even offered 
 his life as a sacrifice. It is the flag, too, which 
 our fathers unfurled as the ensign of a free peo 
 ple. 
 
 By your valor and that of your comrades in 
 blue, and by the grace of God, it still remains 
 the emblem of a free republic, the only purely 
 free republic on the earth. And now, gentlemen, 
 as a grandson of Col. Jonah Sanf ord, whose mem 
 ory you have honored, and in behalf of his nu 
 merous descendants, some of whom are members 
 of your post, I should be pleased to have you 
 bear with me for a few moments. 
 
 Those who bear his blood feel a just pride in 
 his achievements, and the position which he won 
 among his fellows. It is but natural that they 
 should. No lapse of time can erase the ties of 
 kinship. Respect for the memory of those who 
 have gone is the greatest tribute which we can 
 pay to those we once loved. 
 
 Soon each of us in turn will enter that eternal 
 sleep which " kisses down the eyelids still," and
 
 Flag Presentation 27 
 
 to know that we shall be remembered by at least 
 those who best knew and loved us, greatly soft 
 ens the sting of death. 
 
 Col. Jonah Sanford died on Christmas day, 
 1867 nearly seventeen years ago. It is aston 
 ishing how fast the years roll by. It seems but 
 yesterday that I last saw him, hale and well, as 
 fine a specimen of elderly manhood as one sel 
 dom sees in a life time. Large of stature and com 
 manding in bearing, with a face, though stern of 
 purpose, yet radiant with kindness and beaming 
 with intelligence and character. His courage 
 was dauntless, and his will power indomitable. 
 ' * In every -storm 'of life he was oak and rock, but 
 in the sunshine he was vine and flower." To 
 those who met him as capable opponents, he was 
 sometimes austere and unrelenting, so strong 
 were his convictions; but with the controversy at 
 an end, all feeling would pass away. He was too 
 generous and too great to harbor enmity or ill 
 will. 
 
 For all aspiring young men he had the greatest 
 respect and kindness; and I only regret that I 
 cannot pay his memory a more fitting tribute. I 
 loved him, living, for his sterling worth and 
 character, and now I revere his memory. 
 
 Since you have honored him with the name of 
 your post, and since it is nearly a fifth of a cen 
 tury since he passed away, I have thought that 
 a brief sketch of his life would not be uninterest 
 ing.
 
 28 Letters-Essays 
 
 He was born in Cornwall, Vt., in the year 1790 
 and came into this county in the year 1811. He 
 selected a piece of woodland in the town of Hop- 
 kinton, where he continued to reside until his 
 death. There were then but a few settlers in all 
 this section 'of the country, and those quite dis 
 tant and widely separated. He cleared a small 
 spot and built him a log cabin that year, when he 
 returned to Cornwall. He returned in 1812 and 
 also in 1813 and 1814 to enlarge the clearing he 
 had begun, but did not permanently settle there 
 till 1815. 
 
 In the summer of 1814 he went back to Ver 
 mont, >as that section of the country was then 
 threatened by the British. He enlisted into a 
 Vermont regiment, and took part in the battle 
 of Plattsburgh, Sept. llth, 1814. For gallantry in 
 that engagement he was made a corporal. On 
 the termination of the war he returned to his 
 cabin in Hopkinton and devoted himself assidu 
 ously to the clearing of the forest and the mak 
 ing of a home. Having but little education, be 
 ing barely able to read and figure, and recogniz 
 ing his own sad condition, and that of those 
 about him, in this respect, he purchased a few 
 law books and began their study with a heroic 
 determination. Blessed with great natural abili 
 ties, an indomitable will, and a power of per 
 severance that knew no bounds, he soon mastered 
 the fundamental principles of the law and began 
 its practice. For some years thereafter he de-
 
 Flag Presentation 29 
 
 voted himself almost entirely to the practice of 
 the law, and became one of the ablest and most 
 successful practitioners in the county. 
 
 In 1828 he was elected one of the two mem 
 bers of the legislature from this county, and was 
 also re-elected in 1829. March 9, 1830, he was 
 elected to Congress to fill out the unexpired term 
 of Silas Wright. In 1846 he held the honorable 
 position of one of the three commissioners from 
 this county to revise the constitution of the State. 
 He was a member of the old state militia, in 
 which he rose by successive promotions, by rea 
 son of efficient services and eminent qualification 
 as a military officer, to the rank of Brigadier 
 General. 
 
 In politics he was a Democrat until the organi 
 zation of the Republican party in 1854-5. On 
 its organization he became one of the most ar 
 dent and zealous advocates of its doctrines and 
 principles, and remained such until his death. 
 
 When the great rebellion of 1861 burst upon 
 us, threatening the destruction of our free re 
 public, I well remember with what ardor and zeal 
 he threw all the energies of his nature into the 
 cause of the Union. If there was nothing else 
 in his career to which I could point with pride, 
 this alone would be sufficient to make me proud 
 of his memory. Those were dark days indeed, 
 and he who was brave and loyal then was a pat 
 riot to the cause of constitutional liberty. Neg 
 lecting his own personal affairs he gave substan-
 
 30 Letters-Essays 
 
 tially all his time from 1861 to 1865 to the sup 
 port of the war and the union. He was intensely 
 loyal. He believed 1 that it was every man's 
 bounden duty, who was physically capable, to go 
 into the war. To his sons and grandsons he said, 
 as the Spartan fathers of old, " go, it is your 
 duty." For those who hesitated or opposed the 
 war he had no mercy or pity. 
 
 In the fall of 1861, when it had become evi 
 dent that a great war was upon us, he obtained 
 permission of the state government to raise a 
 regiment of men. Although seventy years of age 
 he entered into this great undertaking almost 
 alone and unaided, working night and day, driv 
 ing about the country attending and addressing 
 war meetings infusing into all a spirit of loy 
 alty and of concern for our country. He labored 
 with such zeal and energy that in February, 
 1862, he started for the seat of war with the old 
 92nd Regiment, of a full thousand men. He 
 went with them to the seat of war on the James 
 Eiver, but, owing to his advanced age and his 
 arduous labors in organizing the regiment, he was 
 unable to remain long in active service. 
 
 He resigned his commission into younger hands 
 and came home, but his interest in the success 
 of the war did not abate one jot or tittle. Until 
 its close in 1865 he was actively interested in 
 every project and movement for the Union. He 
 lived to see the war a success, the rebellion put 
 down and the government of our fathers re-estab-
 
 Flag Presentation 31 
 
 lished, on, I trust, a more enduring basis. And 
 now, gentlemen, I have an agreeable task to per 
 form. 
 
 Mr. Jonah Sanford, out of gratefulness to you 
 for the compliment you have paid his father's 
 memory, requests me to present to you this ele 
 gant crayon portrait of Ool. Jonah Sanford. 
 
 And now, gentlemen, one word more of a per 
 sonal character to you. It is now twenty-three 
 years since that dark cloud of disunion and war 
 burst over this land. For four years thereafter 
 that war waged more fiercely than any of the 
 wars of modern history. At times it became a 
 wild carnage of slaughter and blood, and the 
 wisest among us were fearful of the result. When 
 defeat fell upon the boys in blue, there was sad 
 ness in every loyal face. Then, when victory 
 would reward your bravery, every loyal heart 
 beat nobly and every loyal face became radiant 
 with hope. Thus, for four long years, the destiny 
 of the republic hung alternately in hope and 
 gloom. 
 
 No army of men, in any age of the world's his 
 tory, was ever engaged in a nobler cause, or ever 
 fought more valiantly and bravely than did the 
 boys in blue. Four hundred thousand of them 
 gave their lives " that this nation under God 
 might have a new birth of freedom, and that gov 
 ernment of the people, for the people, and by the 
 people, should not perish from the earth." It 
 was a terrible sacrifice of treasure and blood,
 
 32 Letters-Essays 
 
 with an attendant sea of suffering and sorrow; 
 but, when viewed in the light of results, who 
 can say that it was too great? Had our republic 
 gone down in that struggle, kings and monarchs 
 would have received a new lease of life, and the 
 doctrines of liberty, equality of men, and sov 
 ereignty of the individual, which are so dear to 
 us, would, in all probability, have ceased to ex 
 ist, at least as factors in our national life. Such 
 a calamity, not to us alone, but to the human 
 race, your bravery averted. Every soldier dead, 
 and every soldier living, may proudly boast that 
 the perpetuation of these principles as a force 
 in the affairs of men, is his legacy to mankind. 
 
 Nineteen years have since passed away. Dur 
 ing that time many of the boys in blue have 
 joined their comrades who fell in the struggle 
 in that " eternal sleep which knows no waking." 
 One by one they are falling by the wayside, and 
 in a few short years all will have passed away. 
 It is well that you organize these army posts. 
 Band yourselves together as a band of brothers. 
 The ties which should bind you one to another 
 are hardly less strong than the ties of blood. You 
 were brothers in a great contest, when to be a 
 brother meant to be a hero or a martyr. Then 
 you stood shoulder to shoulder in defense of the 
 best government yet instituted among men. And 
 now, as the evening of life is coming on, it is 
 well that you stand together as you stood then. 
 See to it that every comrade is secure in all his
 
 Flag Presentation 33 
 
 rights. See to it that every comrade receives 
 all the blessings which the government bestows. 
 See to it that no injustice or wrong is done to any 
 man who wore the blue. See to it that every 
 comrade who is entitled to it has his pension. 
 See to it that no comrade suffers from penury or 
 want. See to it that every comrade's widow and 
 his orphan children have and receive all the 
 rights and dues to which they are entitled. See 
 to it that every comrade, when he is called hence, 
 is properly laid away to his eternal rest. 
 
 Your fame is secure. A generous people and 
 a generous government will ever hold your 
 services in grateful remembrance.
 
 Ibon. Jonab Sanforfc 
 
 H 
 
 E was a son of the late Col. Jonah San- 
 ford of Hopkinton, where he was born 
 Oct. 24, 1821, and consequently was 
 wanting a few days of being sixty-five 
 years of age, dying Oct. 18, 1886, on his farm in 
 Hopkinton. His schooling was principally ob 
 tained at the old St. Lawrence Academy in Pots 
 dam. On arriving at his majority he spent the 
 first four years following as superintendent of 
 his father's farm. 
 
 He then moved onto a small farm about three 
 miles east of Parishville, where he labored with 
 such perseverance that he was soon able to pur 
 chase a large property, upon which he has since 
 resided, and to which he has added extensively. 
 In February, 1847, he married Clarinda Risdon, 
 daughter of Elisha Risdon, to whom four children 
 have been born, viz.: Carlton E. of Potsdam; Silas 
 H., residing at home; Mrs. L. C. Shepard of 
 Somerville, Mass., and Herbert J. of Potsdam. 
 
 In politics he was a Democrat up to the 'or 
 ganization of the Republican party, to which he 
 early united and to which he has steadfastly ad 
 hered.
 
 HON. JONAH SAXFOTID, JR.
 
 Hon. Jonah Sanford 35 
 
 In 1862 he was appointed Assistant Assessor of 
 Internal Bevenue, which position he held till the 
 consolidation of the system in 1872. In August, 
 1862, he was appointed enrolling officer of his 
 town. He was first elected Supervisor of his 
 town in 1868 and was annually thereafter re- 
 elected to the same position down to and includ 
 ing the year 1885, excepting two years that he 
 was in the Legislature. He was elected Chair 
 man of the Board of Supervisors for the years 
 1878, 1879 and 1885, and made a most excellent 
 presiding officer. He was quick to act, judicious 
 and impartial in his rulings. As a testimonial of 
 this, the Board presented him with a handsome 
 ebony cane, gold mounted, which he highly 
 prized, at the close of the session in 1879. He 
 served in all sixteen years on the Board, and I 
 think it safe to say that he was the best informed 
 man during his last years as to the business and 
 affairs of the county that we had among us. He 
 seemed to know it all, though much of it is quite 
 involved and complicated. He was on nearly all 
 the important and active committees. He gave 
 whatever he had to do such thoroughness of re 
 search and study that his reports were almost 
 invariably adopted and his suggestions fol 
 lowed. In the fall of 1873 he was elected to the 
 Legislature and was re-elected in 1874. 
 
 As a legislator he was careful, judicious and 
 level headed. He voted right, as his constituents 
 would have voted, on all measures and came out
 
 36 Letters-Essays 
 
 of the Legislature unsullied. Two local measures 
 of considerable importance came before the Leg 
 islature while he was there, which he handled 
 with much dexterity, sagacity and good judg 
 ment. 
 
 Mr. Sanford in his prime was a man of splendid 
 physical ability. He had muscles of steel and 
 great powers of endurance. He stood full five 
 feet nine in height and weighed two hundred 
 pounds. Through all his life he took great de 
 light in feats of strength, games and exercises of 
 all kinds. At wrestling and other sports requir 
 ing agility and strength he met but few men 
 from his boyhood, who were his equals. While 
 a student in the old Academy he was one of the 
 leaders in all the vigorous games and sports of 
 those days, and this same fondness for athletic 
 exercises was his to his death. 
 
 He liked and courted society, especially that 
 of younger men and women. He could have more 
 fun and enjoyment with them, as a rule, than 
 with older people. The young people about him 
 in turn enjoyed his society and were at his home 
 a great deal. There was nothing prosy in his 
 nature, nor did he enjoy Staid, inert people. He 
 wanted matters to be stirring and people to be 
 alive with mirth and laughter. 
 
 Mr. Sanford was a man of great industry and 
 business sagacity. He accumulated quite a prop 
 erty and it is, substantially, all the work of his 
 hands and brain. In matters of business, his
 
 Hon. Jonah Stanford 37 
 
 good sense and judgment almost invariably 
 guided him right. He made but few missteps, 
 and those were due to being over sanguine. Had 
 he dealt in stocks he would have been a bull. He 
 always looked on the bright side of business mat 
 ters. If an enterprise turned out poorly, he 
 never fretted or worried over it in the least. 
 Those who did not know, could not discover by 
 his speech or action but that a poor enterprise 
 had been a splendid success. 
 
 For years he has been doing a large business 
 as a speculator in every kind of property per 
 taining to an agricultural section, in addition to 
 the conduct of his farms, and had become known 
 to every person about him for quite a distance. 
 People were continually going to him who had 
 anything to sell or who needed a little help. He 
 always made a good trade if he could, but did it 
 manfully and honorably. He was also well known 
 and highly respected in this village, and generally 
 throughout the county. He was strong in his 
 attachments, and no one loved his home or his 
 children more warmly than did he. 
 
 Some five years ago he was stricken with that 
 terrible disease known as diabetes, and ever since 
 it has been sapping his vital forces. At times he 
 would seem to rally and surmount the disease, 
 and then after a little would gradually fall back 
 again. It was so insidious and stealthy in its 
 approach upon him that he did not know that 
 he was afflicted until it had taken a firm hold.
 
 38 Letters-Essays 
 
 Four weeks previous to Ms death he, wife and 
 daughter started for Iowa on a visiting tour. 
 The journey tired him very much and, besides, 
 he found the weather very warm 90 degrees and 
 over which was greatly debilitating to him. His 
 wife and daughter urged him to come back at 
 once, but he said no, he would be better when 
 he got rested and that they would make a hur 
 ried call on the friends they had gone to see. He 
 grew weaker and very soon he was too feeble to 
 return when the weather was so warm. They 
 waited for a change in the temperature and as 
 soon as it came they started, reaching home Oc 
 tober 16. For two weeks it had been the prayer 
 of his life to get home, and nothing but his great 
 will power ever brought him through. On get 
 ting home the energy and tension that had borne 
 him up, of course, gave way and there was a re 
 lapse. About midnight of that day he fell 
 into a stupor or comatose state, which those about 
 him for some time supposed was slumber. From 
 this he never rallied, dying as one would sink to 
 sleep at 2 p. m. on Monday, surrounded by his 
 family.
 
 Was Confcling IFnvitefc? 
 
 BIEND FAY Some little time since, I 
 met a gentleman well advanced in politi 
 cal preferment, who gave me, as he 
 claimed, "a bit of inside history " con 
 cerning onr late presidential contest. I was 
 amazed at the time, and so mnch so that I have 
 not since related it, fearing it was not true that 
 he had been misinformed. Were it true, I knew it 
 would some day ere long come to light, and I 
 have been scanning the papers since, hoping to 
 learn something further on the subject. I would 
 not speak now but for the fact that I noticed an 
 Albany letter in the Watertown Times of the 
 25th ult., which seems to bear out what was re 
 lated to me. If there be any truth in the story it 
 should come to light and the people should know 
 it, so that the blame for our defeat may rest 
 where it should. If it be not true, I know of no 
 way of ascertaining that fact so expeditiously or 
 well as to make the story public. Now that it 
 seems to be gaining currency, and as we are on 
 the eve of a great State contest, if it be not true, 
 that fact should be made known. I understand, 
 from pretty reliable sources, that whatever of
 
 40 Letters-Essays 
 
 bitterness, jealousy or feeling among our leaders 
 which has distracted us in the past has been 
 buried in the grave of our defeat, and that we 
 are to pull together united. If that be true, and 
 I earnestly hope that it is, we shall be invincible. 
 Thus viewing the situation and my duty in the 
 premises, I give you the substance of the story 
 as related to me. 
 
 It will be remembered that about the time Mr. 
 Elaine went into Ohio, it looked a little gloomy 
 for us. There did not seem to be that life, spirit 
 or enthusiasm in the canvass which augured suc 
 cess. Certain members of the State and also of 
 National Committee were apprehensive of the re 
 sult unless something could be done to awaken 
 the people. Some members of both committees 
 were very anxious that Mr. Conkling be officially 
 invited by them to take part in the canvass, 
 While others were opposed to 'any such course. 
 The former (as I understood) did not know that 
 he would take part, if invited, but they thought 
 it was their duty to make the effort. Accordingly, 
 several members, either of the State or National 
 Committee, or made up of both, informally called 
 on Mr. Conkling to ascertain if he would speak 
 if invited. Making known their mission, Mr. 
 Conkling inquired by whose authority or direc 
 tion they came. They replied, of course, on their 
 own. In the conversation that ensued Mr. Conk 
 ling informed them that if Mr. Elaine would per 
 sonally or by autograph letter request him to take
 
 Was Conkling Invited? 41 
 
 part in the canvass he would make them three 
 speeches. These gentlemen were elated and went 
 back to their headquarters and a telegram was 
 sent to Mr. Blaine, requesting him to send an au 
 tograph letter to Mr. Oonkling accordingly. I did 
 not understand this to be by any official action 
 of the State 'or National Committee, but a joint 
 enterprise of several of the members of both, feel 
 ing assured that the committee would most 
 heartily approve of it. Mr. Blaine, on receipt 
 of the telegram, sent his son Walker on to New 
 York City at once with the letter required. On 
 his arrival there, he called on the committee and 
 made known his errand. Several members of the 
 committees were in doubt as to the propriety of 
 the proposed course, and so called to their council 
 the editor of a great Eepublican journal and a 
 United States Senator from this State, who was 
 then in the city. These two gentlemen were so 
 vehement in their denunciation of the project, so 
 sanguine of success without the aid of Mr. Conk- 
 ling, that the whole matter was thrown up, and 
 Mr. Walker Blaine returned, carrying the auto 
 graph letter back to his father. 
 
 This is the story in brief, as told me with every 
 assurance of its truthfulness. Whether it be or 
 not, of course, I cannot say. However, my in 
 formant occupies a high political station and has 
 excellent opportunities for knowing whereof he 
 speaks. I cannot imagine any object or purpose 
 he could have had in fabrication or in misleading
 
 42 Letters-Essays 
 
 me. There are those who can speak positively, 
 and if this shall in any manner aid in eliciting 
 the truth I shall be pleased. 
 
 NOTE The foregoing was addressed to Editor Fay and 
 written in the fall of 1887. Mr. James G. Elaine was de 
 feated for the Presidency in 1884, by failing to carry New 
 York. Mr. Cleveland carried it by only about eleven hun 
 dred plurality. The statements made in this article were 
 hotly assailed by various newspapers, and, I think, had the 
 better of the argument. My informant was Senator George 
 Z. Erwin.
 
 PERMELTA S. BROOKS
 
 petmelia S* Brooke 
 
 EEMELIA S. BEOOKS was a daughter of 
 Col. Sanford and was born in Hopkinton 
 July 2nd, 1819. She died at her home in 
 Potsdam October 16, 1886. On Novem 
 ber 10th, 1841, she joined Erasmus D. Brooks, a 
 live and enterprising young merchant at Parish- 
 ville, in marriage. Blessed with good health and 
 great physical vigor, she entered upon life's 
 duties full of cheer and with no other thought 
 than to make life a success to fill her sphere as 
 a wife and 'a mother. All along the highway 
 which she has traversed are strewn the flowers 
 and kind deeds of a noble woman, dutiful wife 
 and loving parent. There are no places over 
 which she came lazily, indifferently or dreamily. 
 It is one unbroken path of filial love active, vir 
 tuous, Christian life and living. She accepted all 
 its duties that fell to her with great womanly 
 heroism and fortitude. When clouds would 
 gather over and seem to darken the way, as they 
 do to all of us now and then, they did not chill 
 or dampen her ardor in well doing or weaken the 
 motherly love with which she filled her home. 
 Always hopeful, looking on the bright side of
 
 44 Letters-Essays 
 
 things, she saw a silver lining in all the clouds 
 that shadowed her path. 
 
 Mrs. Brooks was a woman of full medium 
 height, weighing upwards of two hundred pounds, 
 with a fine complexion and a bright face, as is 
 shown by her picture. 
 
 Six children were born to her. (See obituary 
 Erasmus D. Brooks.) In 1858 Mr. and Mrs. 
 Brooks came to this village, where they have re 
 sided ever since, in their cheerful and pleasant 
 home on Elm street. 
 
 Mrs. Brooks was an exceedingly genial and so 
 ciable woman and made friends. She was fond 
 of bright company, and spared no effort or pains 
 to make it pleasant for all who entered her home. 
 She was especially bright and intelligent, and 
 none excelled her in repartee remarks just 
 spiced enough with wit and humor to make inter 
 course pleasant and enjoyable. Many of these 
 were really brilliant and are treasured in the 
 memories of those who heard them. 
 
 As a house- wife she had no superior. She loved 
 her home and she gave it her constant care and 
 unremitting attention. It was always in order, 
 everything in its place and everything done with 
 exquisite taste and cleanliness. Her handiwork 
 articles of beauty, taste and adornment 
 abounded on every hand. To make her home 
 bright, inviting and cheerful she seemed to re 
 gard as a wife's duty as well as a pleasure. 
 
 A year ago last May when in full health she
 
 Permelia 8. Brooks 45 
 
 was stricken with a heart trouble, and ever since 
 has been in constantly failing health and 
 strength. At times she would have terribly dis 
 tressing spells, being barely able to breathe, last 
 ing an hour or more, which would make those 
 about her weep and even suffer from sheer pity 
 and sympathy. To those who called just after 
 her recovery from one of these spells she would 
 appear as bright and cheerful as ever seem to 
 forget self and her own sad condition and in 
 terestingly inquire after the caller's health and 
 that of his or her friends. 
 
 Since first taken, with the exception of a brief 
 spell of a week or two, she never went to bed or 
 lay down. She slept sitting in a chair near her 
 husband's bed with a cane by her side, that she 
 might awaken him in case of trouble. But, all 
 the while, she was growing weaker and more 
 feeble and less able to stand the strain of the re 
 curring bad spells. And yet, with all her agony 
 and suffering, not a murmur of complaint ever 
 escaped her lips. Her courage and fortitude were 
 as remarkable as they were praiseworthy. On 
 Saturday last a little after eight a. m. a dis 
 tressing turn came on. She had fought her last 
 battle. Her strength gave out and her spirit took 
 its flight.
 
 N the 6th day of May, 1886, the people of 
 this village held an immense meeting at 
 Firemen's Hall. The matter of drains 
 and sewers was the sole object and sub 
 ject before that meeting. It was discussed thor 
 oughly and exhaustively. A proposed bill had 
 been prepared and was read to that meeting, 
 which empowered the Trustees to go on and put 
 in drains and sewers. A vote was taken as to 
 whether that bill should become a law, and it was 
 carried, all but unanimously there being only 
 two or three votes against it. Accordingly it was 
 sent to the Legislature and became a law at once. 
 The Trustees thereupon set to work, with a zeal 
 that was commendable, to do what they deemed 
 was for the best interests of our village and peo 
 ple under that law. 
 
 They tore up lawns and yards and made sad 
 havoc of our streets, it is true, but the result is, 
 we have four miles or more of sewers, two miles 
 or so of drainage, a foul and filthy old run or 
 ditch that passed right through the main part of 
 the village, which for years has been a reeking
 
 HOSE A BICKNELL, PRESIDENT
 
 The Sewers and Trustees 47 
 
 shame and disgrace, obliterated; sinks and basins, 
 foul, filthy and disease-breeding, tapped or filled 
 or the water diverted; cellars that have been 
 damp and wet for thirty years, made dry; some 
 eighty cesspools, the most cursed and damnable 
 institutions with which any aggregation of peo 
 ple was ever afflicted, disinfected and filled. Is 
 not that a grand season 's work? What can man 
 do for his kind that is more humane, more broth 
 erly or for which he should receive warmer or 
 more heartfelt thanks, than to improve his sani 
 tary conditions, save him sickness and the loss of 
 prattling children? 
 
 Some men seem to act as if there was nothing 
 really essential or important in this world but to 
 make money. Health is nothing, life is nothing, 
 except as it contributes to money getting, and a 
 neighbor's health is nothing at all. Away with 
 such selfishness and with men of that ilk. Spare 
 no effort or pains to save your family, those you 
 love, from sickness and death; join your neighbor 
 in every reasonable effort to keep the pallid 
 cheek and fevered brow of sickness from his 
 home. 
 
 Heretofore there has been no possible way of 
 getting rid of the slops, garbage, etc., except to 
 have vaults, cesspools, etc., or a ditch or private 
 drain to some hollow or basin out by the road 
 side or over against a neighbor; no way to get 
 the water out of the cellar, in which in many 
 cases it remained the year round. Now all this
 
 48 Letters-Essays 
 
 is changed as to four miles and over of streets. 
 Every man can now drain his cellar, ship away 
 to a remote point all his offal and slops by simply 
 digging a ditch and laying a pipe out to the road 
 and there connecting with a pipe which all his 
 neighbors have contributed in bringing almost 
 to his very door. This done, there will be no oc 
 casion for cesspools. The year 1886 marks their 
 departure. Their removal alone is worth five, 
 yea, a hundred times the whole expense of the 
 sewers. 
 
 The sewers in, there will be no occasion for 
 our stores, hotels, etc., to run all their slops, filth 
 and garbage into the pond from which we get our 
 water supply, nor will it longer be permitted. 
 
 Who wrought all these blessings to our village 
 and people T The Trustees. Why did they do it ? 
 Did they do it from any selfish interest or mo 
 tives? Did they make anything out of it I No. 
 No one even whispers any charges of that kind. 
 The work was most thoroughly done and at a sur 
 prisingly small expense considerably less than 
 any estimate that was made. In fact, the expense 
 was from a half to a third less than we had ex 
 pected. 
 
 The whole board gave it their constant care and 
 attention all the summer and all the fall, hold 
 ing meetings almost every evening, discussing 
 this subject and that, looking after this item and 
 that, watching the whole work as it progressed. 
 Two members of the board gave the matter sub-
 
 The Sewers and Trustees 49 
 
 stantially all their time from the beginning to 
 its completion. 
 
 I both honor and respect our physicians for 
 the part they have taken in this whole matter. 
 From the start, with only one exception, they 
 have urged on this whole movement and aided 
 in every way they could. Were they as selfish 
 and mercenary as the most of us, they would 
 have opposed it, since they live on sickness. Had 
 they done so by united action I doubt very much 
 whether any 'Street, unless perhaps Elm and part 
 of Main, would have been sewered. So, I say, all 
 hail to the doctors. 
 
 It is indeed fortunate that we had a Board of 
 Trustees composed of men of intelligence, men, 
 who, believing their cause was just, were not 
 afraid to face obloquy to face the jeers and 
 sneers of the multitude; men with the courage 
 of their convictions. Had they not been such, 
 not a foot of sewer would have been laid outside 
 of Elm street. Abused and maligned on every 
 hand, they heeded it not, but quietly and orderly 
 pushed on the work. They felt that what they 
 were doing was for the public weal and that in 
 the end those who cursed them would not only 
 repent but thank them. They were taking a great 
 responsibility upon themselves, giving up two 
 seasons of their time without compensation; in 
 curring the displeasure of many and the bitter 
 enmity of others, for what? Was there any 
 pleasure in it? Do men sacrifice or neglect their
 
 50 Letters-Essays 
 
 own business, work for the public or their neigh 
 bors who are abusing them, for the fun of it? 
 And again, the law was so drawn that they had 
 no money and could get no money to carry on the 
 work. They could not construct the sewers with 
 out money. What were they to do! Most men 
 would have declined to buy a pick or a shovel 
 unless the money was supplied them. What did 
 they do? Put their hands in their pockets, or 
 what was the same thing, personally incurred the 
 entire responsibility, got the money and went 
 ahead. How many men are there among us who 
 would do that? 
 
 If there were ever five men in this community 
 to whom we are indebted, to whom we are under 
 lasting obligations, they are our present five 
 Trustees. In my humble opinion no five men 
 have ever done a greater work for this village 
 and its people than they. A great many of our 
 people recognize this fact now and those who do 
 not will, I am sure, in the near future. 
 
 There is much to be done yet no heavy ex 
 pense or outlay, but any number of little things, 
 odds and ends to pick up and close up. There are 
 no other five or even ten men among us who know 
 so much about it, who know just what is neces 
 sary to be done or who know so well how to do 
 it as they. This has been and is their work, and 
 I submit they should not only be allowed but re 
 quired to complete and finish it. If they should 
 decline to serve again we could with much justice
 
 MAJOR WILLIAM H. WALLING
 
 The Sewers and Trustees 51 
 
 insist on their doing so, for the reason that their 
 work is not quite complete. 
 
 Every voter should attend the coming caucus 
 and, forgetting all bitterness, passion and feeling, 
 cast his ballot for the renomination of the old 
 Board. It is due them as an indorsement of their 
 work. Not to do so stamps them with our dis 
 approval. Those who do not support them will 
 live to regret their act. 
 
 COMMENT, February, 1907. The foregoing 
 article was written late in December, 1886, as may 
 be plainly seen, to induce a public sentiment fa 
 vorable to a renomination of the Old Board. As 
 it contains quite a little record of the most im 
 portant event in the history of Potsdam village, 
 I give it place in this volume, and more particu 
 larly for the reason that it affords an opportunity, 
 after the lapse of twenty years, when all rancor 
 and bitterness have passed away, of commend 
 ing that Board for the grand and noble work that 
 it did. 
 
 During all the intervening twenty years, I have 
 thought that something should be done to com 
 memorate their memory. They are entitled, as I 
 said in the article then, to the lasting gratitude 
 of all the residents of the village living and that 
 shall live within its bounds. Their work 
 cleansed, purified and redeemed the village and 
 made it a fit and habitable place in which to live. 
 Those of our people who were not residents then, 
 and those not old enough to appreciate or under-
 
 52 Letters-Essays 
 
 stand the storm of protest, vilification and abuse 
 under which the Trustees labored and through 
 which they passed in doing the work, have lit 
 tle idea of their trials or discomforts in ac 
 complishing the work. Some people I fear would 
 have weakened and put in sewers in only one or 
 two streets. But they did not relax. There 
 were times, I confess, when it was feared that 
 they would weaken and, had it not been for the 
 loyal, vigorous and persistent moral support of 
 such men as Charles 0. Tappan, George W. 
 Bonney, T. Streatfield Clarkson, Dr. Jesse Rey 
 nolds, Dr. L. E. Felton, Erasmus D. Brooks, Gen. 
 E. A. Merritt, Hollis Snell, William W. Weed, Dr. 
 Reynold M. Kirby and some others whose names 
 I cannot now recall, it is quite possible that they 
 would have greatly curtailed their work. Had 
 they not had this backing, who could have 
 blamed them with the populace wild and crazy 
 over the great expense? This they faced, to do 
 their duty and therefore earned their praise. 
 There were many good men who neither sup 
 ported nor opposed the work, holding and believ 
 ing that sewers would be in the nature of a lux 
 ury of which only the rich could take advantage. 
 The sewers were brought about by a great 
 amount of sickness that fell upon the village in 
 the spring of 1886, beginning in March and con 
 tinuing into June. I kept a record of the cases 
 and still have it. There were about one hundred 
 and seventy-five during that time, many of them
 
 The Sewers and Trustees 53 
 
 light, and twenty-five or six deaths, though not 
 all died in the village, a few going home when 
 taken sick. The village had been afflicted nearly 
 every spring and fall with more than normal 
 fever cases, and at some seasons with >an exces 
 sive amount, back as far as 1867. Such sickness 
 was the cause of the putting in of a complete 
 water works system in the year 1870, at an ex 
 pense of $50,000, but it did not prove to lessen 
 the sickness it continued the same as before till 
 the great outbreak in 1886. At that time it was 
 so great that the people forgot their pocketbooks 
 and were willing to do most anything to bring 
 relief. A special meeting was called to be held 
 May 6th in Firemen's Hall, to take action on a 
 system of sewers and drains. It was conceived 
 and conducted by Judge Charles 0. Tappan, to 
 his memory and credit, be it said. 
 
 Enthusiastic speeches were made in favor of 
 the project by Hon. William A. Dart, Dr. Jesse 
 Reynolds, Prof. E. H. Cook, Gen. E. A. Merritt, 
 John A. Vance, Judge Tappan and others. Judge 
 Tappan had a prepared bill authorizing the Trus 
 tees to put in a complete system of sewers and 
 drains. It was read and adopted by a great vote, 
 only three men having the face to say " No." 
 It was mailed to Senator Erwin in Albany, the 
 Legislature being about to close, and he, by his 
 influence and power there, secured its passage 
 and enactment in three or four days. 
 
 The Trustees, backed arid supported by the
 
 54 Letters-Essays 
 
 leading men I have named, took steps immedi 
 ately to put the Act into effect, and it was well 
 that they did. It was also very fortunate that 
 the Board, elected in the January preceding, 
 contained such public spirited men as it did. Had 
 they not been such, there is no telling what would 
 have been done, nor even that anything would 
 have been attempted. The Board consisted of 
 Hosea Bicknell, Chairman; 
 Thomas S. Clarkson, 
 William H. Walling, 
 Charles L. Hackett and 
 
 D. Frank Ellis, 
 
 all living to-day except Mr. Clarkson, who was 
 injured at his quarries and died in 1894. 
 
 The sickness began to abate soon after the law 
 was passed and there was a great revulsion of 
 public sentiment against the project. Petitions 
 were promptly signed, remonstrances filed, angry 
 meetings held, but still the streets were being dug 
 up in every direction. On went the work. The 
 Board heard not and this intensified the feeling. 
 Small crowds gathered here and there, and were 
 harangued by men I could name, though prob 
 ably it is not best. They were simply mistaken. 
 The most of the abuse was aimed at Mr. Bick 
 nell since he was Chairman and gave practically 
 his entire time to the work. Mr. Clarkson also 
 gave much of his time. Many hearings were 
 given by the Board and many meetings, during 
 all the summer and fall.
 
 CHARLES L. HACKETT
 
 The Sewers and Trustees 55 
 
 The work begun, there must be money. The 
 Trustees had none for the sewer part of the 
 work. What was to be done? Raise it in some 
 way. Did they? Yes. How? Messrs. Thomas 
 S. Clarkson, Hosea Bicknell, William H. Wal 
 ling and Charles 0. Tappan put their names to 
 four $5000 notes and got it of the bank. Was 
 not that both heroism and patriotism? 
 
 There were four and 40/100 miles of sewer put 
 in during that time at a cost of $24,500 and three 
 and 28/100 miles of drains at an expense of $25,- 
 560. It was work rapidly done, well done and 
 judiciously, a grand achievement, a noble work 
 for the village and humanity. With the close of 
 the year it was not quite complete in detail and 
 some minor matters, and the friends of the Board 
 felt that they should be re-elected, not only to 
 complete the work, but especially as a vindica 
 tion. 
 
 A citizens' caucus was called and held in the 
 last days of December, 1886. It was a motley 
 throng. The friends of the old Board were de 
 termined and persistent, and, led by Judge Tap- 
 pan, fought every inch. They were outnum 
 bered, but by having printed ballots, carried the 
 day. The opposition was so chagrined and bitter 
 that they held a bolting caucus and named 
 George Pert, Harvey M. Story, James Lemon, 
 Luther E. Wadleigh and Isaac Mathews for 
 Trustees. The issue joined, the canvass began. 
 It is doubtful if a harder or more intense mu-
 
 56 Letters-Essays 
 
 nicipal struggle ever took place in the village. 
 Over seven hundred votes were cast, the old 
 Board winning by from thirteen to thirty votes. 
 Thus came the sewers and drains to the vil 
 lage. It was a fight and this time right won. In 
 this connection mention should be made of an 
 other struggle almost as bitter as that over the 
 sewers. Several people were using the pond and 
 open runways for private sewerage. Cesspools, 
 the most damning device ever adopted in a con 
 gregation of people, were all about the village, 
 their contents decaying, rotting, fermenting and 
 poisoning the earth and wells far and near. 
 Competent judges estimated their number from 
 one hundred to two hundred. We had had 
 Boards of Health, but they were awed, fright 
 ened and intimidated into doing practically 
 nothing. The excuse of some of the powerful 
 had been that there was no other place than the 
 river and open drains for sewage, and when the 
 sewers were put in they even then practically de 
 clined to connect. At this juncture Mr. Ogden 
 H. Tappan, Prof. E. H. Cook and J. W. Barbour 
 were finally induced to become the Board of 
 Health. Each was elected because of his known 
 courage and fearlessness to make both high and 
 low do what was right. Dr. L. E. Felton became 
 Health Officer and rendered most excellent ser 
 vice. Mr. Tappan was then a young man, but 
 he had the courage of his convictions and the 
 nerve and executive force to compel compliance
 
 The Sewers and Trustees 57 
 
 with sanitary regulations and the law. In this 
 struggle he took the leadership which his father 
 had in the sewer question. 
 
 Suits were brought, attorneys engaged, but the 
 Board of Health had to go out of town to get 
 them, and judgments secured. Relentlessly they 
 kept on till practically all private sewers to the 
 river and open drains were taken out, and until 
 all known cesspools were cleaned out and filled 
 with earth and lime. 
 
 The work done, sickness in the way of fever 
 ceased, and it seems ceased for good. There 
 was no recurring fever sickness, even in the 
 spring or fall of 1887. The sewers in and cess 
 pools removed, fever sickness at once disap 
 peared. The origin had been found and re 
 moved. Whether the cause was cesspools or the 
 want of sewerage can never be known, though I 
 suspect the removal of cesspools and the intro 
 duction of sewerage both contributed in practi 
 cally eradicating fever sickness from the village. 
 At the time I was quite inclined to think that 
 most if not all the sickness in 1886 was due to 
 the excrement of a fever patient being thrown 
 into the river. It could not then be decided and, 
 of course, cannot now, though I still cling to my 
 belief. If it was, it does not help us or explain 
 the spring and fall sickness for twenty years 
 previous. If it was, and the village could not 
 otherwise get sewers and a removal of cesspools, 
 than by such an affliction, I am tempted to say
 
 58 Letters-Essays 
 
 that it was well that it came. No recurrence of 
 fever sickness has afflicted the village during all 
 the intervening period of time. For the past 
 twenty years it has been one of the healthiest 
 villages in the State and the record of vital sta 
 tistics at Albany prove this, as any one can see 
 by the reports. Prior to 1886 for about twenty 
 years it had been quite unhealthy. Now practi 
 cally every home has sewer connections, and no 
 one would be without them under any circum 
 stances, nor can any man now be found who 
 would admit that he ever opposed the sewers. 
 The sewers have also been greatly extended since 
 their installment. 
 
 Was not the work of the Trustees for 1886, and 
 those who stood by them and back of them and 
 with them, a grand work, and should they not 
 be forever honored and remembered? To them, 
 one and all, I say, All Hail! You did a great and 
 noble work for your village and for humanity.
 
 license or 1Ro=%icen8e. Wbicb 
 Shall ft Be? 
 
 a ""HE voters of Potsdam, and of every other 
 town in the county, will, on the 8th day 
 of February next (1887), be called upon 
 to determine whether intoxicating liquor 
 shall be sold in their respective towns or not. 
 The law, as it now stands, makes it the duty of 
 every voter by his ballot to say yes or no. 
 
 The Legislature has relegated the question of 
 sale or no sale to the people of each town. The 
 wish or will of the voters of every town on this 
 question as expressed by their ballots becomes 
 the law of that town. There is no middle ground. 
 There is no way under the law to prevent its sale 
 except to have a preponderance of negative 
 votes. There is no way to secure its sale under 
 the law except to have a majority of the votes in 
 the affirmative. Therefore, the duty of every 
 citizen is not only plain, but apparent and para 
 mount. No voter can shirk the responsibility 
 which is upon him, in justice to himself, his peo 
 ple, or the State. 
 
 The question is before us and a vote about to 
 be taken. How shall we vote? It is well that
 
 60 Letters-Essays 
 
 we give the matter our candid, sober, serious 
 thought. It does not fall to the lot of many of 
 us to ever act in a matter more important than 
 this, or in one fraught with more direful conse 
 quences. As you shall vote, so you will speak, 
 for the weal or woe of your brother your neigh 
 bor. As you shall vote, so you will speak, either 
 for or against the good order and well being of 
 society. As you shall vote, so you will say 
 whether peace and sun-shine, or anguish and sor 
 row, shall go into many homes in this town and 
 county. Is this true? Does so much as this de 
 pend on how we vote? Let us see. Let us look 
 at the matter and calmly and dispassionately. I 
 am no temperance bigot, fanatic or crank. I have 
 seen the " ins and outs " of rum. I have been 
 along its tortuous and serpentine way. I have 
 seen the midnight lamp set by the loving tender 
 ness of the mother to guide the erring and uneven 
 footsteps of her dear boy. I have seen the father, 
 kind and loving, transformed by drink into a 
 beast, driving a true and loving little woman 
 his wife into the street with curses and blas 
 phemy. I have seen little children wan and 
 half clad the offspring of intemperance, whose 
 sad faces and pitiable condition would bring a 
 tear from the stoutest heart. I have helped to 
 bury its victims, bright young men, the pride and 
 hope of loving parents; middle aged men, kind 
 and loving husbands and parents. Is this true? 
 Are such things going on, taking place, in this
 
 License or No-License? 61 
 
 Christian and enlightened age? If you doubt it, 
 look about you. Go to the hovel or home of the 
 intemperate poor. Count up on your fingers the 
 young men and middle aged men that you 
 know, who are now on the highway of in 
 temperance. Then make a list of those you have 
 known who have ' ' fallen by the wayside ' ' before 
 this demon of drink, and you will not ask if what 
 I say be true. What has done and is doing such 
 work as this? Eum. The legalizing of certain 
 places to deal out liquor to our boys to mankind. 
 What reason is there for it? What return does 
 the State get for the legal privilege it grants? 
 Surely there must be some compensation, some 
 return, for so much misery and sorrow, so much 
 anguish and suffering. What is it? What argu 
 ments are advanced in favor of license! Let us 
 see. I will be fair I will give all that are 
 known to me. If they be ample compensation for 
 the wretchedness and sorrow that license directly 
 entails on mankind, then I will admit that the 
 cause I plead is wrong. 
 
 The first and fundamental reason or argument 
 of all pro-license men is that every man has a 
 right to " eat, drink and wear " whatever he 
 pleases. This has been and is their Declaration 
 of Independence. To it they cling with the tenac 
 ity of life itself. Has a man the right to eat or 
 drink poison? No, neither a moral nor a legal 
 right. The law makes it a crime to attempt to 
 commit suicide. The mere fact of our existence
 
 62 Letters-Essays 
 
 carries with it certain duties and obligations. No 
 man living among others has all his native, nat 
 ural rights. The great bulk of them are given 
 up to the State. If you would have them all, you 
 must go into the forest wilds and live alone. But 
 you can drink what you please and to your 
 heart's content. You can take it to your home 
 and there guzzle as you will, and no man can 
 molest or make you afraid, unless you abuse 
 your wife or children. Isn't that freedom 
 enough? If you have a right to drink what you 
 please, have you a right to get drunk and go 
 prowling and blaspheming about the streets ? No, 
 certainly not. The moment you do this you inter 
 fere with the rights of others, and this you have 
 no moral or legal right to do. But the right of 
 private drinking, and the establishing of certain 
 places where all can get liquor, are different 
 things altogether. The former only concerns 
 yourself, the latter the public. "With the welfare 
 of the public the State is most intimately con 
 cerned. It is not only its right, but its duty to 
 prevent pauperism and crime, to shield the weak 
 and to stay the arm of the strong. But why ar 
 gue this further? 
 
 The courts, not only of this State, but of every 
 State and of every civilized country on earth 
 have decided that the regulation of the sale of 
 intoxicating liquor comes within the police power 
 of the State. So, then, you have a right to drink, 
 but no moral or legal right to open a bar to sell
 
 License or No-License? 63 
 
 to others, except as the law grants it to you. 
 Then, as you must admit, there is no force in your 
 claim that you have the right to " eat, drink and 
 wear " whatever you please, as giving you the 
 right to sell others liquor because they wish to 
 drink. 
 
 The second claim or reason advanced by those 
 who favor license is, that there is a demand for 
 it; that so long as liquor is manufactured it will 
 be sold; that if it is to be sold it is better that 
 its sale be placed in the hands of men who are 
 known men who will not abuse the privilege; 
 that licensing will stop the terrible evil of illicit 
 selling. This is the argument of every liquor 
 seller, every drunkard, every tippler, every man 
 who now and then takes a drink, every unthink 
 ing man who makes loud proclamation of his 
 ' * eternal right to liberty. " It is a plausible one, 
 I admit. If I am any judge, it is the argument 
 which carried the day in this village two years 
 ago for license. It was then quite forcibly and 
 adroitly put before your readers in a long com 
 munication which is before me. I wonder if the 
 young man who wrote it has not since seen times 
 when he wished he had not done so. I wonder 
 if the business men who signed it have not re 
 gretted that they did? I personally know that 
 several of them could not be hired to do it now. 
 A change for the better has come over them. The 
 spirit of the times has touched their hearts. 
 
 But to the argument. Let us take it up se-
 
 64 Letters-Essays 
 
 riatim. We are told that there is a demand for 
 it. Yes, I admit it, and I am sorry that it is so. 
 Are you not, Mr. License Man? Do you not wish 
 that your eyes should never see a drunken man 
 again? If you do (and surely you must, if you 
 have a spark of manhood or brotherly feeling in 
 you), then do you think it wise or politic or best 
 to supply that demand, to intensify and increase 
 it? How will that help matters? If you sell to 
 those who thirst for it and must have it, you 
 will necessarily be obliged to sell to others who 
 are drawn into the maelstrom of drink by them. 
 So that five years, ten years, hence, though many 
 of those who now demand it be dead, a new army 
 of tipplers is on hand to demand it. So, using 
 your " remedy," which is no remedy but an ag 
 gravation, this demand would always be kept 
 good. But in reply to this, you say if men be 
 not licensed to sell, others will do so covertly, se 
 cretly, and in defiance of all law or decency. I 
 admit it. But is that any reason why we should 
 set the seal of public approval on wrong doing? 
 Because low, disreputable men, vagabonds in so 
 ciety, without regard for law, public morals or 
 decency, will surely do that which is confessedly 
 wrong, is that any reason why the public should 
 do the same thing in a highly gilded >and fes 
 tooned bar-room? Does drinking over a marble 
 top counter, in front of a costly mirror, with finely 
 cut bottles, beautifully decorated and artistically 
 arranged, help the matter any? Is it any less
 
 License or No-License f 65 
 
 an evil to drink in such places than to crawl into 
 some alley or by-place and do it? Because some 
 men will steal would it be well to appoint a com 
 mittee to do the stealing for the town, or to abol 
 ish all laws against theft? The fact is that the 
 selling of liquor as a beverage is an evil, a wrong. 
 Gloss and gild it as you will, you cannot hide 
 the cloven foot that is behind it. Because vaga 
 bonds will sell it if you do not license men to do 
 so, is no argument why we should do so. If it 
 were, you could with equal reason wipe out half 
 the laws that guard and preserve society. There 
 is no way that wrong can be legalized into right. 
 No way that baneful practices can be made pro 
 ductive of public good. How can a law that 
 grants a party the right or should I say privi 
 lege to do a wrong be upheld or maintained? 
 Is not the State in passing such a law a party to 
 the wrong? 
 
 But does the licensing of its sale stop the il 
 licit, unlawful sale of liquor? Does it drive the 
 low, dirty rascals out of the business? That it 
 would, was the main argument for license two 
 years ago. Give us a license, was the cry then, 
 and we will stop this cursed and nefarious illicit 
 selling. We took you at your word. We gave 
 you a license. Were you right? Has it stopped 
 it ? No ! not even for a day nor an hour. Every 
 man who has eyes to see and ears to hear is pain 
 fully aware of the truth of what I say. Every 
 man who holds a license knows it. It has been
 
 66 Letters-Essays 
 
 going on right under your very eyes. Have you 
 done anything to stop it? Have you lifted your 
 hands against it I No, not one of you. No doubt 
 you have regretted it, for it hurt your trade, but 
 further than this not a murmur of complaint has 
 escaped your lips. "Why have you not kept your 
 promise? Why have you not protected the 
 monopoly which the law granted you? If it was 
 worth taking was it not worth guarding? Are 
 you so liberal and generous that you were willing 
 to pay a large fee for a license and then let others 
 share the trade without fee? Why have you not 
 hunted them out and driven them either out of 
 the business or into prison? 
 
 Now, I submit, would it not be better to hunt 
 down these illicit venders, these vagabonds, even 
 though it takes years and the public be compelled 
 to rise up en masse against them, than to legalize 
 its sale to open bar rooms and saloons? These 
 are the places where most young men get started 
 on ihe wild and maddening career of intemper 
 ance. Only drinkers can get it of the illicit 
 dealer. A boy with any pride or manly feeling 
 in him would not seek out the illicit dealer if he 
 oould, and with rare exceptions he could not if he 
 would. Into the bar-room they can go with the 
 gentry of the town. To drink there and with 
 these leading young men is high-toned, and be 
 sides the bar-room and saloon are always open. 
 Into them you can go at any time and get liquor 
 without let or hindrance. With the illicit dealer
 
 License or No-License? 67 
 
 that is not the case. If you are not a known tip 
 pler you can not get it. You must hunt up some 
 loafer who is known, to go and get it for you. The 
 bar-room and the saloon are the crying evils of 
 this day and age. It is in them that the seeds 
 of intemperance are sown. It is in them that the 
 first steps are taken. They are the nurseries of 
 drunkenness. 
 
 In the third place it is claimed that as liquor 
 will be sold in any event, we had better grant 
 licenses, getting a fee therefor, as some compen 
 sation for the pauperism and destitution which 
 the sale of liquor, illicit or otherwise, entails on 
 the community that there is a great demand for 
 it for medicinal and other purposes than as a 
 beverage, and that it can not be had unless some 
 place be licensed. As to the first point, I main 
 tain that it has no force or strength, especially 
 with us in these rural sections, for the simple 
 reason that we can stop its sale, illicit or other 
 wise, if we will. Our villages are not so large 
 but that we can know every den and dive and 
 hole if we will. Public sentiment has sufficiently 
 advanced in this town and in most towns to up 
 hold and maintain the law. In some of the west 
 ern states their prohibiting laws do not seem to 
 prohibit, and they have enacted high license laws 
 as the only expedient at hand. But I venture to 
 say that this will not cure the evil or greatly help 
 matters. Licensing, be it for a large fee or a 
 small one, will not stop illicit selling. What we
 
 68 Letters-Essays 
 
 want here and all we want is that the leading 
 men of the village shall raise their hands and say 
 that the unlawful and illicit sale of liquor in this 
 village shall cease. Let them do that, and in six 
 months from the first of next May I will guaran 
 tee you a village as free from rum and the evils 
 of intemperance as can be found anywhere. The 
 most of them vote the temperance ticket, but for 
 some unexplainable reason that is as much as 
 they have ever done. They sit in the background 
 and hob nob with both sides in every fight against 
 the rumseller. 
 
 But, on the other hand, suppose the money 
 taken for license does make the town good for 
 all the expense it is put to in keeping the poor 
 caused by the free sale of liquor. Is that any 
 compensation for the misery and want, sorrow 
 and suffering, caused among the poor? Is that 
 any compensation to the kind and loving mother 
 who with sorrow unspeakable sees her boy come 
 home reeling from drink? See the young wife, 
 with her heart full of tenderness and love, at the 
 midnight hour, praying and patiently awaiting 
 the return of him she would give all but life to 
 save. Is it any compensation to her? See the 
 little children, affrighted and terror-stricken at 
 a father, drunk. Is it any compensation to them ? 
 Have I drawn it too high ? You, into whose homes 
 this withering curse has not entered, are not qual 
 ified to speak. Ask those in whose homes this 
 monster has reveled. Ask the fathers and mothers
 
 License or No- License? 69 
 
 and sisters who have kept the vigils of the night 
 who have suffered such anguish 'and sorrow as 
 no pen can depict. Have I drawn it too high? 
 Scenes like these and hundreds of others equally 
 as touching and painful have taken and are now 
 taking place, not only in this, but in every com 
 munity. You who do not drink and you who 
 do not often drink, but vote the license ticket, 
 are you in favor of continuing, of aggravating, 
 of multiplying these scenes? You may be safe, 
 you may be proof against excess in drinking, but 
 is there no regard for others no fellow feeling in 
 you? Give the matter a little thought, a little 
 honest meditation. Had you not better deny 
 yourselves this privilege, that your weaker 
 brother may not stumble and fall? 
 
 And now as to the second branch of this claim 
 for license. I admit that liquor is used, is needed, 
 if you please, for many purposes other than as 
 a beverage. I admit that there should be some 
 place in every locality where it can be had for 
 those purposes without the vendors violating the 
 law. There are a great many who do not agree 
 with me in this, I know. It is the rock on which 
 many have split. To me it is the worst feature 
 of the whole excise law. As the law now stands, 
 no man can make a sale of liquor, no matter for 
 what purpose it is to be used, without violating 
 the law, unless he has a license. But there is 
 no remedy except by a change of the law, and that 
 is extremely remote and doubtful. All there is
 
 70 Letters-Essays 
 
 for us to do is to accept matters as they are to 
 choose the lesser of two evils. Any druggist can 
 sell it when medicated without an infraction of 
 the law, and this will answer in most cases. In 
 Vermont and other places where they have no 
 license, town agents have been appointed to sell 
 it for these useful purposes, but in many cases 
 they were found to wretchedly abuse their trust. 
 
 Now I think I have been fair. I have stated 
 all the reasons or arguments advanced in favor 
 of license known to me that are worth consider 
 ing, unless it be that our merchants lose some 
 trade when there are no licenses. I doubt this 
 very much. The trade of most men who are con 
 stantly drinking is not worth getting. Many of 
 these have a day of reckoning near at hand and 
 a wise merchant would not carry them on his 
 books. And besides there are temperance men 
 and women who love quiet, sober, orderly streets, 
 who will come here to trade, and send their boys 
 here, when we have no license, that would not 
 when we have a license. But whether the loss 
 in the one case is made up by the gain in the other 
 is a question after all of but little moment, when 
 we consider the dangers to society from open 
 bar-rooms and saloons. 
 
 Trade, as against virtue, upright, sober life and 
 living? Trade, as against the peace and happi 
 ness of the home? Would you barter them for 
 gold? If you would, then to such I have nothing 
 to say. Should we establish pitfalls, places where
 
 License or No- License f 71 
 
 our young men may stumble and fall, places 
 that will take a goodly part of the earnings of 
 the laborer which his family so sorely need? Is 
 it not wiser and better to remove temptation from 
 the path of the weak, than to punish them be 
 cause they have stumbled and fallen? 
 
 And besides there is a large number of young 
 men among us, gathered in from the surrounding 
 country. They are here attending school, paying 
 tribute to our village. They have not the fostering 
 care and anxious watchfulness of parents. We owe 
 it to them, to their parents, to ourselves, that we 
 keep no toll gates which open on the bitter and 
 saddening highway of intemperance. So long as 
 they remain with us they are in one sense the 
 wards of the village. If the verdict of this town 
 shall be no-license, as I doubt not it will be, by an 
 overwhelming majority, every parent whose boy is 
 with us will utter a silent prayer of thankfulness. 
 It will send a ray of hope into many homes that 
 are now filled with gloom and sadness. It will 
 cheer and make glad many a young man who is 
 unable to resist the temptation of an open saloon. 
 It will give us character and standing among the 
 people around us. It will help many a weak 
 brother who would turn back if he could. Let us 
 help him all we can. Let us put away the pint bot 
 tle and the bar. They are of no earthly use or 
 good. We shall all feel the better for it, for we can 
 rest in the consciousness that we have done at 
 least something to stay the terrible evil of drink.
 
 prater in Mar 
 
 W 
 
 E notice that Bishop Whipple has directed praying 
 in his diocese for the protection of our soldiers in 
 the field, but the Spaniards are praying busily for 
 the protection of their soldiers. In every war be 
 tween two Christian nations these conflicting 
 prayers have been a scandal, ever since the foundation of 
 Christianity, and we hoped they had ceased. They are 
 founded on the theory that the Creator takes a certain 
 pleasure in watching fights, and that He gives the victory to 
 the pluckiest and best drilled. It would be better for re 
 ligion to have this view of the Creator's tastes drop out of 
 sight. To the question why God permits war if He does 
 not like it and does not take sides in it, we must answer by 
 asking why He permits robbery, murder and lynching and 
 lying? As we know we shall not get any authoritative 
 answer to these questions, had we not better leave the sub 
 ject alone?" The Nation. 
 
 The Nation is considered by many as being the 
 purest, most wholesome and most scholarly of all 
 political periodicals. The position taken in the 
 above extract is for this reason on first reading 
 a little startling if not surprising. And yet the 
 more we reflect the less are we inclined to dis 
 sent or complain. The questions there presented 
 have not only troubled but baffled the wise and 
 learned of all ages and climes. Today with all 
 the learning and wisdom of the past, in addition 
 to our own to aid us, we are no nearer a solution 
 of them than we were two thousand years ago. 
 There are many mysteries in this world which
 
 Prayer in War 73 
 
 the ken of man can not pierce and which probably 
 it is best that he should not. 
 
 Whether the Creator countenances wars or 
 takes part in them we are unable to divine, even 
 from a study of the millions of struggles and wars 
 through which man has come. If battles and wars 
 were always won by the forces which, as viewed 
 by man even, are confessedly in the right, then 
 we might reasonably conclude that He does take 
 part. We cannot tolerate the thought or even 
 entertain it that He would take sides with the 
 army in the wrong. The trouble is we may not, 
 do not, know with our weak vision the ultimate 
 ends and purposes to be accomplished. Therefore 
 it may be better in the end that victory should 
 now and then go with the forces which finite man 
 regards as in the wrong. We have no other 
 answer to make to the many battles and wars 
 which have been won by the cruel and tryannous. 
 Terrible and awful as wars are, hardly less cruel 
 and wanton than the struggle of beasts, yet there 
 are many who maintain that they are the means, 
 the crucible by which the Creator will reach ulti 
 mately a perfect and noble manhood. Else they 
 argue and with much reason why has he been re 
 quired to come through such ages of struggle 
 and blood. 
 
 Man is certainly growing better and wars 
 fewer. If this be true, and it is confessedly so, 
 then if this progress be not due to wars it has 
 been attained in spite of them. There are others
 
 74 Letters-Essays 
 
 who maintain that man is a free moral agent, and 
 that we are left to work out our own destiny; 
 that the Creator takes no part in our controvers 
 ies or wars. Which is the true theory will prob 
 ably never be known. True, it must be that if 
 He so wished or willed there would be no wars. 
 That we have wars is some proof that He does 
 not act to prevent them, though it is no proof 
 that He does not take sides. There are others 
 who maintain that it is the office of humane and 
 intelligent people to kill off and destroy cruel and 
 barbarous people and they argue that this must 
 be right since we have always been doing it. In 
 telligence is superior to brute force, they say, and 
 a much better factor in the civilization and pro 
 gress of the human race. Cruel though it be, they 
 maintain its ultimate end is good. Thus in this 
 field of doubt and darkness we grope and must 
 continue to do so. 
 
 The soul of the great and big-hearted Lincoln 
 was cast down by these same questions and as 
 much so as are we. With all his wisdom he could 
 no more solve them than we. In his second inau 
 gural, speaking of the great armies struggling 
 each to destroy the other, he uttered these mem 
 orable words: 
 
 " Both read the same Bible and pray to the 
 same God; and each invokes His aid against the 
 other. It may seem strange that any men should 
 dare to ask a just God's assistance in wringing 
 their bread from the sweat of other men's faces; 
 but let us judge not, that we be not judged. The
 
 Prayer in War 75 
 
 prayers of both could not be answered; that of 
 neither has been answered fully." 
 
 The prayer of the North had not then been 
 answered, but was it not soon after? 
 
 After all, we see no harm or wrong in prayer 
 for success in war. Though both may intensely 
 believe they are in the right, neither knows that 
 he is because neither knows or can know the 
 Creator's ultimate ends and purposes. As it is 
 right to act up to ones highest convictions, then 
 surely as there must be much solace and comfort 
 in prayer for the success of our friends even in 
 war, why say aught against it? Men will pray 
 for their side to win. It is the cry of the soul due 
 to the fear of consequences should the enemy 
 win.
 
 1benr\> <Surle\> Broofcs 
 
 HIS bright, clever and once promising 
 young man has been called hence in the 
 spring time of early manhood. It seems, 
 and it is sad, that one so well gifted and 
 equipped for all the struggles and duties of life 
 should be stricken down ere the stream is half 
 crossed. But it was so willed and we must not 
 complain. We cannot even say that it was not 
 for the best. He died on Friday evening last at 
 the residence of his father, Erasmus D. Brooks, 
 after a long and lingering illness. He was born 
 at Parishville, January 23, 1853, and came to 
 this village with his father in the spring of 1858, 
 where he has since resided, except during short 
 periods when away at school. 
 
 He died October 2, 1891. In early boyhood he 
 was called Gurley by his chums and companions, 
 and this name clung to him through life. He was 
 hardly known by any other name. He was a 
 bright, active boy and full of fun and sport, 
 though not rash or wild or vicious. He liked sport 
 for sport's sake for the amusement that it gave. 
 As a boy he was courteous and gentlemanly and 
 these traits were characteristic of him through
 
 HENRY GURLBY BROOKS
 
 Henry Gurley Brooks 77 
 
 life. He possessed a bright, strong mind and was, 
 as a boy, a scholar of much promise; but he had 
 so much fun in him that it seemed impossible for 
 him to apply himself to his studies. He would 
 master his lessons by reading them over on his 
 way to school or by getting some classmate to 
 explain them to him in the hall before entering 
 the class-room. In this cursory and hasty way 
 he could usually get at all the points in a lesson. 
 He always stood well in his classes and generally 
 at the head. His mind was so bright and his 
 perceptions so clear that he grasped and mas 
 tered problems and lessons almost at a glance 
 by intuition. He had a bright, intellectual face 
 which was always radiant with mirth and kindli 
 ness. There was never a party or gathering to 
 which he was not welcome. He brought mirth, 
 pleasantry and good cheer, never enmity, ill-feel 
 ing or trouble. He could not be mean or peevish 
 or ugly if he tried. 
 
 He stood about five feet eight, well and com 
 pactly built, fine of figure, handsome of face, and 
 the beaux ideal of the ladies. In sports he was 
 a champion. No one he ever met could excel him 
 in throwing ball. 
 
 In all the various business affairs of men he 
 was scrupulously upright and honorable. He de 
 tested deceit, trickery, cunning and fraud. By no 
 possible means could he be induced in a business 
 deal to resort to deceit or trickery, and he hated 
 those who did. His word was as good as his
 
 78 Letters-Essays 
 
 bond, and his honesty never came in question. 
 He had his weaknesses, but they did not touch 
 or taint his manliness, his integrity or his hon 
 esty. These were cardinal principles with him. 
 
 He was blessed, too, with a most magnificent 
 physique, both in form and in powers of endur 
 ance. His muscles were of steel. For several 
 years past he has been associated with his father 
 in the dry goods business. As a merchant he 
 was always pleasant, genial and agreeable and 
 made for himself a large circle of warm and true 
 friends. 
 
 For some three or four years his health has 
 been gradually failing him. However, he did not 
 give up his duties at the store until last winter. 
 Last summer he went up to Gale's, thinking the 
 change and the atmosphere of the woods would 
 do him good, but it did not seem to. Then he 
 went to New York City to consult an eminent 
 physician, where he remained a few weeks. On 
 his return in August he felt a little stronger, but 
 he soon began to fail. His disease was consump 
 tion, though he was not aware of that fact until 
 a few days before he died. He did not believe 
 this was his trouble. He felt and was sanguine 
 through all his illness, except during the last 
 few days, that he would finally get well. He had 
 great fortitude and courage. But few men could 
 have borne up so heroically as did he. He was a 
 warm-hearted, kind, generous young man. He 
 had no piques or jealousies and no enemies. All
 
 Henry Gurley Brooks 79 
 
 who knew him were his friends. He will be 
 missed by a large circle. He leaves a widow, 
 Cynthia Brooks, daughter of George Everett, to 
 whom he was recently married. In his death Mr. 
 Brooks loses the last of his five sons, leaving of 
 his family only his devoted daughter, Mrs. Abbie 
 S. Landers.
 
 Shooting 2>oes 
 
 BRIEF article recently went the rounds 
 of the press, stating that a game " pro 
 tector," one or more, had actually cap 
 tured parties killing deer ' ' -out -of sea 
 son." It attracted my attention, but not in the 
 same way or for the same reasons that it did a 
 recent writer in the press. To me it was a matter 
 of surprise and even astonishment that a deer 
 slayer had been apprehended at all. I can hardly 
 comprehend it yet. I have known for some years 
 that there were men called " game protectors," 
 selected, of course, for their kind heartedness, 
 love of fair play for the poor deer in their wilds, 
 and because of such sympathy and love for them, 
 creeping and flitting with open ears and eager 
 eyes along and in the edge of the great forest and 
 from camp to camp on the streams and ponds, 
 but it is so long since I have heard of their cap 
 turing anyone or anything that I had begun to 
 lose faith in their sleuth qualities or sympathy for 
 the deer. Accordingly, this recent arrest is proof 
 that they are still alive and on guard protecting 
 the mother deer worn and poor because of her 
 cares, who hides her young a little way back from
 
 Shooting Does 81 
 
 the stream or pond while she creeps quietly and 
 noiselessly to the water's edge for a drink and 
 a meal of juicy lily pads, trusting she can avoid 
 or will not meet a Christian gentleman, sitting 
 wearily in his boat through the starless night to 
 do her to death. Think of a man who will leave 
 his home and a comfortable bed and drive miles 
 to sit for hours in the mists and fog of the water, 
 hidden by the rushes or alders and the darkness 
 of the night, and in defiance of law, both moral 
 and statutory, to kill deer in the summer months 
 when, poor from the trials and hardships of the 
 previous winter, motherhood and the flies that 
 pester them terribly and to escape which under 
 the cover of darkness they steal to the water for 
 relief and a drink. Is it not shameful? They 
 should be run down, prosecuted and thrown into 
 jail. Ever since I can remember it has been com 
 mon talk that it is done every year, but I thank 
 heaven that this butchery seems to be growing 
 less, not through punishment of the offenders, but 
 through and by reason of a higher and increasing 
 moral sense in man. 
 
 Only last season, I think it was, Carrol Vance, 
 whose credibility cannot be questioned, camped 
 on the Bog, and in his rambles along its shores 
 came upon the bodies of six deer that had been 
 shot which the hunters did not find. How many 
 did they shoot that they did get? How many 
 did they shoot that got too far back in the woods 
 to die to be found? How many were seriously in-
 
 82 Letters-Essays 
 
 jured and maimed? Good hunters tell me that 
 in their judgment not one-half the deer that are 
 fatally shot are secured. Why do men, good 
 men in every field and walk of life, take such 
 supreme and uncontrollable delight in killing 
 deer when they are nursing their young, fighting 
 flies and poor in flesh, or, for that matter, at any 
 time? During the early season the deer can fur 
 nish but little meat and that of a very poor qual 
 ity. So, it is not >a question of food at that time 
 of the year, nor is it at any time, except possibly 
 now and then a case with a lazy backwoodsman. 
 No, there are but few cases where the need or 
 necessity for meat enters into the question at all. 
 There seems to be and there is an innate, inborn 
 pleasure in the most of men to lay for, chase, hunt 
 out and shoot down wild animals. Ages ago our 
 forefathers, according to modern research, had to 
 fight their way, both for food and existence, 
 among and with the animals about them. It was 
 then largely a question of which should die that 
 the other might live. It was a strange carnival 
 into which to place a man with a soul, but mod 
 ern scientific research and the ablest students of 
 today tell us with no hesitancy that such was 
 the case. 
 
 It is pleasant to think and feel that man first 
 came from the hand of the Creator free of this 
 propensity to kill, and that it became engrafted 
 into his being through and by the untold and 
 unknown centuries of a barbarous and semi-bar-
 
 Shooting Does 83 
 
 barons life up through which he climbed, at least 
 in the civilized parts of the world, to the full 
 stature of man, and we may, I think, with equal 
 right >and reason, so believe and feel. Be that as 
 it may, it seems to be very strong yet in the most 
 of us. The boy of six or eight cries for a toy pis 
 tol or bow and arrow, a little later for an air gun, 
 and, finding that is not quite sure and deadly 
 enough, pleads and cries for a man's gun with 
 powder, shot or ball that he may not miss and 
 be more successful in killing. These boys begin 
 on the birds singing in the door yard, adding 
 cheer and spirit to life, then on the chirping 
 squirrels and other game, ending up with a cordu 
 roy suit, belt and cartridges with a most deadly 
 modern gun, and, thus equipped and fortified, 
 sally forth upon the deer in their forest home. 
 Many gentle fathers and mothers in this village 
 are now to my knowledge having a severe strug 
 gle with their young sons, who are teasing and 
 pleading for a gun with which to kill. Some of 
 them, but not all, I regret to say, will, when 
 grown up, regret this propensity of their youth. 
 I know this, for it is my own experience. 
 
 Some recent writers maintain that much of 
 our nursery rhymes and reading are both baneful 
 and bad and that they inculcate these morbid 
 desires to shoot and kill in our youth which may 
 be and are no doubt true in a measure. All 
 rhymes and stories having such a tendency 
 should certainly be eliminated from the books of
 
 84 Letters-Essays 
 
 our youth. Let us think that much of the bar 
 barity which afflicts us comes to us from our 
 reading since that, in time, can be remedied. 
 
 The stories which I have heard of the fearfully 
 maiming and wounding of deer and of the long 
 chase after them in their decrepit condition, are 
 too horrible to relate and could not be told, would 
 not be permitted to be recited in the hearing of 
 gentle women, as I know from experience. There 
 are some, however, I must admit, that it would 
 not disturb, but they are few as compared with 
 men. 
 
 The deer is one of the trimmest, fleetest, most 
 graceful in form and action of the animal crea 
 tion. Their great, warm, kindly eyes bespeak 
 friendliness and friendship and how any one, not 
 actually needing food, can look into those eyes 
 and fill that face with buck shot, be it a mother 
 doe or a dry doe or even a buck, is beyond my 
 comprehension. They live in the forest where 
 God or nature placed them, feed and live on the 
 food there afforded, care for themselves without 
 the aid or assistance of man, taxes, constables or 
 a standing army which men require, and, it seems 
 to me, should not be chased and hounded by man, 
 or by man and his dog. Let the wolf and cata 
 mount do it, for it is their nature and their only 
 way of living, but not man, except possibly he be 
 hungry and need food. For him to do it for sport, 
 pleasure or 'achievement seems to me to be cruel 
 and wrong.
 
 HON. WILLIAM A. DAKT
 
 Ibon. William E. Dart 
 
 ILLIAM A. DAKT was a son of Simeon 
 Dart, who settled at Smith's Corners, 
 now known as West Potsdam, in 1808. 
 He was the youngest of six children and 
 was born October 8, 1814. He died March 8, 1891, 
 at his home in the village of Potsdam. His en 
 tire life was spent in the town in which he was 
 born. His boyhood life was spent on his father's 
 farm, where he attended the district school and 
 St. Lawrence Academy in Potsdam, teaching 
 school in the winter to help him at the Academy. 
 In the spring of 1834 he entered the law office 
 of Hon. John L. Russell at Canton. In the suc 
 ceeding spring he became a student in the office 
 of the Hon. Horace Allen at Potsdam, where he 
 continued until May, 1840, when he was admitted 
 to the bar and opened an office in Potsdam. 
 
 In September, 1841, he married Harriet L., 
 daughter of Judge Allen, and succeeded to his 
 business. In the spring of 1845 he was appointed 
 postmaster at Potsdam, and district attorney of 
 the county. In the fall of 1849 he was elected to 
 the state senate and served during the years of 
 1850-51. In 1853 the law partnership of Dart,
 
 86 Letters-Essays 
 
 Dewey & Tappan was formed, which continued 
 until August, 1856, when Mr. Dewey withdrew. 
 The firm of Dart & Tappan continued until 1869. 
 
 In his early life, and until the formation of 
 the Republican party, he was a Democrat. In 
 April, 1861, he received from President Lincoln 
 the appointment of United States district at 
 torney for the northern district of New York, 
 which comprised the greater part of the State. 
 In April, 1865, he was reappointed District At 
 torney, and in 1866 removed from office by Presi 
 dent Johnson, mainly for the reason that he re 
 fused to follow Mr. Johnson into the Democratic 
 party. 
 
 In April, 1869, he was appointed Consul-Gen- 
 eral to Canada, by President 'Grant, which office 
 he held until March, 1878. On the expiration of 
 his term he resumed the practice of law with 
 his son-in-law, George Z. Erwin, under the name 
 of Dart & Erwin, which continued until within 
 a few weeks of his death, when Mr. Erwin with 
 drew and Mr. Edward A. Everett took his place, 
 under the name of Dart and Everett. 
 
 He was vestryman in Trinity Church in 1844, 
 and held that office from 1879 until his death. 
 
 Mr. Dart was about five feet six inches in 
 height, quite stockily built, vigorous in health, 
 and weighed well for his height, probably about 
 one hundred and ninety pounds. The writer met 
 him and knew him from 1871 till his death. 
 During all that time he was the very picture of
 
 Hon. William A. Dart 87 
 
 health, with a full, round, ruddy face, fine com 
 plexion, no beard and white hair. He was a 
 bright, able man, -and this no one could question 
 who conversed with him, or even passed him on 
 the street. As a conversationalist, no one ex 
 celled him among his contemporaries, and I very 
 much question if any one equalled him. He was 
 ever bright, quick at repartee, sparkling in wit, 
 filling his talk with pat stories and apt illustra 
 tions. Nothing in life seemed to please him 
 more than to visit and chat on any and all sub 
 jects, and to tell stories, whether in his office, on 
 the street or at his home. In these respects he 
 was very much like Lincoln, when an attorney 
 in Springfield, and this thought often came to 
 me on seeing him in the street, delighting those 
 about him with his wit, bright remarks and 
 stories. These, he would, like Lincoln, accom 
 pany with a great burst of laughter, usually if 
 standing, putting his hands on his knees, shaking 
 his whole body in his intensity of good feeling, 
 which naturally similarly enthused all his listen 
 ers. 
 
 He was, in every way, an exceedingly social 
 man, both with men and women as well. His 
 delight in conversation was the product of his 
 great social qualities. When everything was se 
 rene and going his way I think he was the most 
 genial, happy and companionble man I have 
 known. If others were thwarting his purposes 
 or his moves, or men he did not like were seeking
 
 88 Letters-Essays 
 
 positions, then he would become greatly wrought 
 up, walking the floor with both hands clenched 
 hard, both arms pumping vigorously, jaws firmly 
 set, sarcastically and eloquently pouring out a 
 Philippic upon his presumed, or assumed, op 
 ponents or adversaries. 
 
 In these outbursts he was often more caustic 
 and brilliant than in conversation. Whenever he 
 wished to be emphatic, this was his characteris 
 tic way of expressing it, and people agreeing with 
 him were greatly interested in his sparkling wit 
 and humor and brilliant attack. 
 
 Nature gave to him a natural legal mind, one 
 of the quickest to act, keenest to see and ablest 
 to comprehend on a simple presentation of a case. 
 He was not, however, so far as I ever observed, 
 a hard or laborious student of the law, due, as I 
 think, to two reasons, first, his consciousness that 
 he could grasp the case without labor, and, sec 
 ond, to his great social qualities. With his fine 
 natural gifts for the law, had he been a great 
 student, hard worker in the books, and had he 
 studiously stuck to the law, he certainly would 
 have attained high eminence at the bar and in 
 the courts, not only in the county, but in the 
 State. As it was, when in his prime and full 
 practice, he took and held, as I am informed, 
 equal rank with the ablest lawyers of the county. 
 In public speaking he excelled, as he did in con 
 versation, since he was as much at ease on a plat 
 form as in a private room, and therefore could
 
 Hon. William A. Dart 89 
 
 give free play to all the qualities of Ms brilliant 
 mind. I have often heard it said that he was 
 one of the brightest and ablest, if not the bright 
 est and ablest, impromptu speaker among all his 
 contemporaries. He did a great deal of political 
 speech-making and was considered one of the 
 best speakers in this section. He spoke extem 
 poraneously, and so was free to turn his re 
 marks to suit and please his audience. He was 
 naturally a free trader, or at least, one favoring 
 a tariff for revenue only. After returning from 
 the Consulate at Ottawa, he advocated this doc 
 trine quite persistently in conversation, to the 
 discomfiture of his son-in-law, the Hon. G-eorge 
 Z. Erwin. So imbued did he become that he 
 went to West Potsdam, where he was born, and 
 delivered a prepared and able speech, which was 
 printed and copied by many papers leaning that 
 way throughout the country. It was considered 
 a masterly speech on that side of the question, 
 and probably as able as any he ever made. 
 
 He was particularly well-informed and well- 
 read on all questions of a political nature or bear 
 ing upon the history of parties, the principles 
 espoused by each, and of the leading men of the 
 State, with many of whom he had a familiar 
 acquaintance. 
 
 He was a genial, able and companionable man, 
 and his bright, happy face and memory will linger 
 till all who knew him have gone. Some of the 
 trite remarks, pat stories, sparkling wit and hu-
 
 90 Letters-Essays 
 
 mor uttered by him are still often repeated by 
 those who heard them. 
 
 In the evening of March 9, 1891, he and his 
 daughter, Harriet, called upon a neighbor. The 
 visit being over, he complained of being ill, but 
 declined assistance to his home, saying the walk 
 and open air would do him good. Very soon 
 after entering his home he sank suddenly to the 
 floor and soon expired. His last effort was to 
 gratify his great social qualities. And so passed 
 away the bright and genial Mr. Dart. Two 
 daughters, Mrs. George Z. Erwin and Miss Har 
 riet Dart, survive him.
 
 Hcbing for War 
 
 OB some time past a war spirit has been 
 quite manifest in nearly all the great 
 governments of the earth, as also in some 
 of the smaller ones. In fact, they are al 
 ready fighting in Abbyssinia, South America and 
 Cuba. Why is it? There is a cause or, more 
 properly speaking, a motive for every human 
 action. We cannot act, if we would, without mo 
 tive. Is it because of the distressing condition 
 of the poor, toiling millions, everywhere finding 
 their lot and their environment growing harder 
 and more awful to bear? Is it due to the savage 
 instincts of man 's nature ? Is it due to the rulers 
 of government, looking to war as a relief, as a 
 vent to the restless and turbulent spirit of their 
 subjects? Do the rulers feel that there is greater 
 safety and security to themselves in the waste, 
 devastation and murder of war, and the conse 
 quent debilitation, poverty and distress that must 
 follow? Is it due to wealth, with idle factories 
 wanting contracts of millions to make guns, to 
 build war ships, to build forts and arsenals, to 
 make clothing, furnish supplies, etc. ? Is it due to 
 great capitalists who see millions in the barter
 
 92 Letters-Essays 
 
 and exchange of securities consequent upon war! 
 If these or some of these be not the reasons for 
 this war fever what, then, is the reason? There 
 are those who maintain that every considerable 
 government should have a good, smart war at 
 least every thirty years, as a soothing, softening 
 influence upon the independent spirit of man. 
 History tells us of more than one war brought on 
 for no other purpose than this. What a libel on 
 the God-given nature of man is such a doctrine 
 as that! Is man, here at the close of the nine 
 teenth century, but a varnished barbarian? 
 Only recently we noticed a sentence in an edi 
 torial in the Watertmvn Times about like this, 
 
 "After all, our boasted civilization is but a thin veneer. 
 Scratch the average man of today but lightly and you 
 reach a barbarian." 
 
 These are not the exact words, but the sub 
 stance as near as I can remember. The thought 
 there expressed has been ringing in my ears ever 
 since, and I fear will continue to do so till the end. 
 The idea was new to me, or, at least, put in a new 
 and forcible way. Can it be true? I had thought 
 that man inherently possessed attributes of a di 
 vine nature, elements which lifted and placed 
 him on a plane above animal savagery, above the 
 barbarian. I was so taught in my childhood and 
 I hope I may continue to so feel and think, that 
 my faith shall not be entirely shaken by the med 
 itation which the statement of The Times has 
 awakened. But, when I read, as I did only a few
 
 Aching for War 93 
 
 days since, that the United States Senate, once 
 the ablest body of men ever gathered together in 
 council in all history, actually cheered a message 
 from the President which indicated war, I con 
 fess I began to think we are barbarians varnished 
 over, and thinly at that. When eighty-eight men, 
 the select and elect of sixty millions of as enlight 
 ened and high-minded men as there are in all 
 the world, cheer a prospect of war, knowing full 
 well the influence of such an act, what are we to 
 think of our boasted civilization or of man's in 
 herent nature? 
 
 Soon after this scene in the Senate I read of 
 a large council of ministers of the Gospel bring 
 ing the matter of that message up, and being so 
 evenly divided that they could not take action 
 upon it. Just think of it! A minister, a teacher 
 of the precepts of Christ, supporting or counten 
 ancing any move that might bring on or culmi 
 nate in war. Such an act is equally as surpris 
 ing, and more painful, than that of which we have 
 before spoken and makes our query more diffi 
 cult of solution. The mission of Christ on earth 
 was peace, good will, one toward another. And 
 history tells us that ministers and religious peo 
 ple have been in all wars as fierce and as relent 
 less as others. How they can be thus holding the 
 beliefs they do passes my comprehension. Every 
 minister, of whatever creed and wherever placed, 
 should be, as I believe, an apostle of peace. If 
 he be not can he be a true disciple of Him who
 
 94 Letters-Essays 
 
 said: " Love thy neighbor as thyself. Do unto 
 others as ye would they should do unto you. ' ' 
 
 The common people, or as Lincoln would say, 
 the plain people, upon whom the burdens, distress 
 and horrors of war principally fall, awakening in 
 their might, to their honor be it said, are against 
 war and have put a quietus on the war fever 
 which followed the President's message. And 
 perhaps we should be restricted in our inquiry as 
 to whether man is a barbarian veneered, or as 
 to the thickness of that veneer, by the voice and 
 acts of the great army of plain people. They liave 
 no motive to influence their judgment other than 
 the good of all, no fat contracts to get ~by war, 
 no fame to make, no honors to acquire, except 
 that of brave soldiers dead or living. 
 
 The Venezuelan question has no more than 
 quieted down than Senators of the United States 
 stand up in that historic hall and make speeches 
 breathing war with Spain, on account <of Cuba. 
 Germany seems quite ready to go to war over 
 a trifling matter, in far off Africa. Russia wears 
 her iron collar, and is ready to crush any power 
 that thwarts her will. Turkey, or her subjects, 
 have been and are butchering the poor, defence 
 less Armenians because they are Christians, and 
 doing it in so brutal and savage a way as to 
 shock the world. The great Christian govern 
 ments of the earth stand aghast and are ap 
 palled, it is true, but not one lifts its hand to stay 
 the barbarous work. England, that mighty em-
 
 Aching for War 95 
 
 pire, mistress of the seas, says she can do nothing, 
 that Armenia is too far away. She could do 
 something, <and would, were any trespasses com 
 mitted upon her property rights in near-by Egypt 
 or even in India, still farther off. I do not say 
 she should. I deprecate war. But I do say she 
 would, were her property rights invaded, even in 
 the least. Is this not some proof that all wars 
 are based on greed, selfishness or rapacity? 
 
 It does not help us in the least, as we can see, 
 in our query, that for several centuries after 
 Christ there was little or no civilization, that 
 there was a long period of appalling darkness, 
 black with war, butchery and savagery. Brutal 
 and black as it was, it was not more brutal, cruel 
 and inhuman than that now going on in Arme 
 nia. Poor Armenia! Her doom has come, her 
 fate is sealed. The Christians of that province 
 are to disappear by butchery, and that, too, at 
 the close of the nineteenth century! 
 
 There are those that tell us that, by some in 
 scrutable necessity or requirement, man could 
 not and cannot reach his full stature except by 
 the uses, the pillage and murder of war, and for 
 proof of this they point to his record for past 
 centuries and to his gradual growth and devel 
 opment amidst war. Man's record through all 
 the ages has been black with war, it is true. It 
 is equally true that man has been developing, 
 growing wiser and better at least, in some coun 
 tries.
 
 96 Letters-Essays 
 
 Is man of today, then, a barbarian with a 
 veneer ? If we accept the doctrine just stated we 
 are almost compelled to agree with The Times. 
 If we are to judge by the conduct of the Turk 
 we must say yes. If we are to judge by the in 
 human butchery that has been and is now going 
 on just off our Coast in Cuba, we must again say 
 yes. Have we, have the government of the earth, 
 had so long a period of peace that war is a bles 
 sing to established authority, in the distraction 
 it causes? Are rulers looking to war as a diver 
 sion of the public mind? Does the independent 
 spirit of the young men of new generations re 
 quire war every now and then for their proper 
 submission to established rules and authority? 
 
 If this be so, I submit there is no other answer 
 to our query but an affirmative one. At any rate, 
 there is a war fever here and in nearly every gov 
 ernment on earth. I call it a war fever, to use a 
 milder term, but perhaps I should say a thirst 
 for blood. 
 
 Our own Congress, stung by the atrocities in 
 Cuba, passes resolutions which may, very likely 
 will, lead us into difficulties and, possibly, war 
 with Spain. But for one man, a man of oak and 
 iron from Maine, the House in all likelihood 
 would have passed the resolution at once. Why 
 should we mix up in the quarrels of those Cubans 
 and Spaniards? They are a hot-blooded, hot 
 headed race,' and nearly always fighting. We 
 can, and do, sympathize with the Cubans and
 
 Aching for War 97 
 
 hope they may secure independence. But, 
 though we do, is it best, is it wise, to bring on 
 war with Spain and possibly England also? A 
 war with either would cost us millions of money 
 and thousands of lives. A war with both might 
 blot out our own fair fabric of constitutional lib 
 erty. To kill from ten thousand to a hundred 
 thousand good American citizens to achieve in 
 dependence for the Cubans ! What a sacrifice ! If 
 slaughter there must be, let it be among them 
 selves. It is their quarrel, not ours. Why kill 
 good citizens to save Cubans? Give them inde 
 pendence and they could not maintain it a twelve 
 month. Even Spain could not. But we are told 
 that the cause of the Cubans is just. Suppose it 
 is. Should we support every righteous cause, we 
 would be at war somewhere all the time we 
 still have the Venezuelan question on our hands. 
 Does it look well to provoke two wars at once? 
 
 Does conduct, can any acts of the people of one 
 government, justify the people of another, in the 
 sight of God, in waging war, save possibly that 
 of defense against invasion? 
 
 In private life it is said to be a pretty good 
 doctrine to mind your own business. Why is it 
 not the same with governments? In olden times 
 war was waged for conquest and plunder, but 
 that day has passed, or very nearly so. 
 
 There is nothing more wasting, more cruel, 
 more wicked than war. It is organized and legal 
 ized murder and butchery. It would seem that
 
 98 Letters-Essays 
 
 no man in his right senses, be he in authority or 
 not, would or could say one word or take a step 
 calculated to inflame the passions of others and 
 thus lead to war. 
 
 The great army of plain people abhor war, and 
 were it left to them there would be few. Wars 
 are nearly always the work of rulers. As Grant 
 said, so say I, " Let us have peace." When 
 we can have a full century of perfect peace, then 
 we can answer our query with much brotherly 
 love and with a decided, no Can we before?
 
 ELLIOT FAY
 
 Elliot 
 
 O 
 
 N Wednesday morning last, November 22, 
 1893, as the people of this village came 
 out from their homes to assume the la 
 bors 'of the day, they were startled and 
 shocked by the news that Elliot Fay had passed 
 away only a few hours previous. They were 
 startled because no one had even a suspicion that 
 his end was so near, though all knew that he 
 was feeble and ill. The daily information for 
 some time previous had been that he was slowly 
 recovering and that he would soon start for a 
 warmer clime in which to spend the winter. 
 
 Thus it is, always has been and no doubt always 
 will be. In the midst of the activities of life, when 
 we are buoyed up, strengthened and encouraged 
 by the plans that we make for the future; by the 
 hope in tomorrow which we all so fondly cherish ; 
 by the love of our natures which warms and 
 irradiates all, we are cut down and pass away. 
 Oftentimes, as in this case, the end comes at a 
 time which, to our short and weak vision, seems 
 untimely, and we can hardly keep back a mur 
 mur of complaint, so torn are our affections. We 
 submit, conscious of our own inability to dis-
 
 100 Letters-Essays 
 
 cern the immutable causes and forces in which, 
 we " live, move and have our being," tenderly 
 lay the departed away, resume our duties, as we 
 must do, and move on. Hope fills our sorrowing 
 natures and bids us be cheerful, whispering in 
 our ears that this is not all, not the end, that ties 
 so strong, affections so deep, cannot be cut off 
 and lost, that the great law of compensation 
 proves this, and that we shall meet again. 
 
 Mr. Fay was a son of Nathan Fay of Rich 
 mond, Vt., where he was born May 11, 1837. He 
 remained on his father's farm until about 1850, 
 when he apprenticed himself to his brother, Harry 
 C., who was conducting a printing business in 
 Canton, N. Y. In 1851, his brother having pur 
 chased The St. Lawrence Mercury at Potsdam, he 
 removed there with him, and was with him 
 through the various changes and consolidations 
 of the paper into The Courier and Freeman in 
 1861, when Harry C. entered the army as Cap 
 tain in the Ninety-second Regiment. Not long 
 after this, Mr. Elliot Fay became sole proprietor 
 of the paper, and continued as such for some 
 years, when George H. Sweet became associated 
 with him for two or three years, under the name 
 of Fay & Sweet. In 1891 he took in his son, 
 Ernest A., making the firm name Fay & Son, and 
 a little later he added his sons, Harry H. and 
 William, under the name Elliot Fay & Sons. 
 
 Mr. Fay was of spare, slight build, under five 
 feet eight, weighing less than one hundred and
 
 Elliot Fay 101 
 
 fifty, moderate in movement, wearing a full beard, 
 always cheerful, never ruffled, and carried his 
 right arm from the elbow at nearly right angles 
 to his body, due to a severe burn to his lower 
 arm when a boy. 
 
 In 1869 he was appointed Postmaster at Pots 
 dam by President Grant and held the office for 
 twelve consecutive years. 
 
 Soon after coming to this village in 1871 I 
 formed the acquaintance of Mr. Fay, which soon 
 ripened into a close and intimate friendship. 
 From that time till his demise that friendship 
 was never broken or even disturbed. There were 
 times, of course, when we did not at first agree 
 as to " men and measures " and courses to be 
 pursued, but these never affected our relations 
 or my friendship and regard for him. He had 
 his views of matters and things, the ability to 
 express them and the courage to stand by them. 
 These are qualities which we all admire and 
 which both test and toughen friendship. He did 
 not like controversy, except as it was conducive 
 to a right understanding of the matter in dis 
 pute. He would not engage, or long participate, 
 in a bitter or acrimonious discussion. Not from 
 any fear, but because he did not feel or believe 
 that such a controversy was helpful to a just 
 determination of matters. Naturally quiet, 
 modest and retiring, he shrank from all display 
 or ostentation. He sought after truth for its 
 sake only.
 
 102 Letters-Essays 
 
 Early in my acquaintance with Mm I found 
 him to be a true man, gentle, considerate, genial, 
 companionable and steadfast in his friendship. 
 I soon learned to confide in him and then to love 
 him. We all have our confidential friend, the 
 one to whom we go with our complaints, our 
 grievances, our trials and troubles, and Mr. Fay 
 was mine. For some years I have confided in 
 him, and not in a single instance did he ever be 
 tray a confidence reposed, even to those who be 
 came interested with us in the matter to which 
 the confidence related. 
 
 My last interview was on Sunday evening pre 
 ceding his death, when I was with him for some 
 time. He was up and dressed, but very feeble. 
 His voice was weak and it troubled him to talk. 
 He asked me to go on and tell him all the news, 
 which I did as well as I could. In his sickness 
 and feebleness he was the same patient, cheerful, 
 uncomplaining man that he was in health. He 
 told me that he would start for California about 
 the 10th of December, and that he thought by 
 " putting two summers " together he would get 
 better. Full of hope and cheer, little did he think 
 there was no more summer for him. 
 
 His paper was his pride. He did not aim to 
 make it startling or profound, but rather a clean, 
 calm, judicious newspaper; to give his readers a 
 fair, candid statement of all matters. I do not 
 think there was ever anything in his paper which 
 one could not read unblushingly in the presence
 
 Elliot Fay 103 
 
 of ladies. In his paper, as in his conversation and 
 life, he was calm, considerate and judicious. In 
 this way and by this course he had built up and 
 made his paper a force for good, a factor in the 
 affairs of this section. 
 
 No man among us took a deeper interest in 
 the welfare of this village or in the prosperity 
 of our people. In the twenty years that I have 
 known him not a single project or movement, cal 
 culated and intended to improve and better the 
 conditions of our village and people, has been 
 brought forward that he did not encourage and 
 assist by his time, his counsel and his influence. 
 The more important of the public measures and 
 improvements, which he contributed to the es 
 tablishment of among us, are the normal school, 
 town hall, cemetery grounds, pavement of 
 streets, sewer and drain system, new district 
 school houses, engine house, board of health, 
 loan association, and many others of a minor 
 nature. 
 
 He loved our village. He grew up with it and 
 he was proud of its growth, its schools, its church 
 edifices, its fine buildings, its majestic elms, its 
 beautiful streets, its clean and tasty homes, its 
 happy and contented men and women. 
 
 He loved our people, and without exception 
 they respected and loved him. I doubt if there 
 was a shop, mill, store or home in this village to 
 which he would not have been warmly welcomed. 
 He had no enemies, because he was a true man.
 
 104 Letters-Essays 
 
 He walked uprightly and lived nobly. He had 
 no jealousy, no piques and no resentments. He 
 was kind and sympathetic and his heart was ever 
 warm toward all. He was a home man and he 
 loved his family. He was proud of his children 
 and, naturally, was much interested in their wel 
 fare and success. 
 
 The expression that over death we should 
 throw the mantle of silence and charity has no 
 application or requirement with respect to Mr. 
 Fay. In his case we can remove every curtain and 
 portierre, and freely invite the gaze and criticism 
 of men. His life was pure and sweet and whole 
 some. There is nothing to hide, nothing to for 
 get, but everything to remember. One of my 
 sweetest treasures will be the memory of my as 
 sociation with him and the belief that for a time 
 I had and held his respect and confidence.
 
 Will War Ever (Tease? 
 
 AM not at all surprised to learn that Gen. 
 Sickles maintains that wars are or 
 dained; that no death is so glorious as 
 one on the battlefield; that since we 
 have had wars from the beginning we shall al 
 ways have them. That is just what one would 
 expect from him, or any other soldier of distinc 
 tion. Should he take a contrary position he 
 would be going back on his own business. He 
 was a good soldier, no, not a soldier, but Gen 
 eral in the Civil War, and won lasting fame at 
 Gettysburg, where he lost a leg, since which time 
 he has been the recipient of courtesies, honor and 
 even adulations by every assemblage into which 
 he has entered. I frankly admit that it is right 
 and just that they were and are being bestowed. 
 It is safe, I think, to say that his name would 
 not last a hundred years but for the opportunity 
 of war. Through war and by war he won the 
 homage of all men while living and a place in 
 history for some centuries to come. War has 
 been tender and kind to him and we should ex 
 pect just such sentiments from him.
 
 106 Letters-Essays 
 
 What, think you, would be the views of war, 
 could they speak, of the real soldiers he com 
 manded, those who did picket duty while he 
 slept, who carried heavy burdens, marched 
 through sand, rain and mud, cooked their own 
 meals, slept on the ground and fell in battle 
 pierced to death, <or of those who survived the 
 tempest of lead, scattered here and there over 
 the country, quiet heroes, with no honors beyond 
 their neighborhood and with no fame or place 
 in history other than the muster rolls at Al 
 bany and "Washington? Would those who fell 
 in battle or died in the hospitals or prison pens, 
 could they speak, tell us that war is right, much 
 less ordained? Would the mothers, widows and 
 orphans of those who so died, could they speak, 
 tell us that they believed war to be a divine in 
 stitution? No. I hardly think that any, or at 
 least but very few of those would so view or look 
 upon war. War, as Gen. Sherman told us, and 
 as everyone who knows anything knows, is hell. 
 Sherman was an able man, a great General and 
 won almost immortal fame as a soldier, and yet 
 I venture to say that his characterization of war, 
 though only using one word, will last longer than 
 any other message written or oral that he ever 
 uttered. Why? Because he could not in an ar 
 ticle of two thousand words paint anything more 
 horrible and awful of war, and so he summed it 
 all up in the single word of four letters hell. 
 
 And yet Gen. Sickles says wars are ordained
 
 Will War Ever Cease? 107 
 
 to enforce rights and redress wrongs, and that 
 they will never cease. Can it be that they are 
 ordained? If so, where, I ask in all sincerity, 
 comes in or is shown the divinity in man? It has 
 been man's pride and boast from time immemo 
 rial, that he was and is, made in the image of 
 the great Father whose spirit gave him life. If 
 he be such, how are we to reconcile his propen 
 sity for war with the divine spirit with which 
 he is endowed, if wars shall never cease? To say 
 this puts man, it seems to me, on a plane not one 
 whit above the animals in this respect. They 
 are warring 'on and eating one another all the 
 time, but to their credit be it said, unlike man, 
 none of them makes war on his own species. No, 
 it is not good for us to think or believe, much 
 less to maintain, that man shall not some time 
 and somewhere, if not everywhere, rise in the 
 scale of manhood and decency sufficiently to 
 cease maiming and killing his brother man by 
 wholesale, and receiving honor and glory for the 
 transaction. Now we honor and decorate the man 
 who, by daring feats with mine or gun, does the 
 greatest butchery or causes the greatest ruin to 
 the enemy. Will we always? Will it always be 
 creditable to creep in the darkness out to an an 
 chored vessel, place a mine and blow a thousand 
 men into eternity? If man be the unredeemable 
 animal that Gen. Sickles would seem to indicate, 
 it probably always will be, but I am loath to be 
 lieve this. It is nobler and better to look upon
 
 108 Letters-Essays 
 
 man as a progressive, and all the while improv 
 ing, animal. In fact, we know that he is. Not 
 many centuries ago he was a barbarian and back 
 of that a savage. Today, in highly civilized coun 
 tries, he is a respectable being. In our own day 
 and time quite a change has been wrought. Man 
 is not as coarse, rough and brutal here in our 
 midst as he was fifty years ago. He has become 
 more gentle and refined. In highly civilized 
 countries he has sufficiently advanced to settle 
 private disputes without resort to the knife or 
 gun. Why cannot governments, then, which are 
 but a collection of individuals, do the same? 
 They could if they were composed entirely of 
 pure and noble men. The law hangs over the 
 individual and throws him who uses violence 
 into jail, but over governments there is no such 
 restraint. Greed, gain, selfishness, fame and glory 
 enter very largely into every war, and war once 
 begun these are given full play. But for these 
 base and sordid elements in man's nature there 
 would have been but few wars, and none today, 
 among civilized races. Perhaps they can never, 
 even in thousands of years, be entirely eliminated, 
 but they are being and will continue to be soft 
 ened and weakened as a potential force for wrong. 
 If man be a divine being, it must of necessity be 
 that he will ultimately eliminate, or at least sub 
 due, his animal passions to the extent that he 
 can live with his neighbor and with all mankind 
 in peace. It cannot be that it was intended or
 
 Will War Ever Cease f 109 
 
 that man will always war upon and kill his fel 
 lows. To think that he always will do so 
 seems cruel and heartless and must make those 
 who so feel and believe doubt, if not deny, the 
 existence of divinity in man's nature.
 
 flDotbet 
 
 N the 19th day of October, 1893, she fell 
 asleep closed her eyes, not again to 
 open on the scenes of this world, but oh, 
 how we hope and pray to open again on 
 the scenes of another, where there are no trials, 
 no bickerings and no sorrow. 
 
 She was a daughter of Elisha Eisdon, who came 
 into Hopkinton early in 1804, less than a year 
 after its settlement, and she was born June 23rd, 
 1822, in her father's log cabin, standing about 
 a. mile west 'of Hopkinton village, on the south 
 side of the Potsdam road. Like all earthly 
 things, all that remains to mark the spot, or has 
 for years, is a hole in the ground, over the fence 
 in the pasture field. Her sister, Mrs. Asahel 
 Chittenden, died March 4th, 1875, and her brother, 
 E. Harmon Risdon, November 15th, 1896, at Web 
 ster City, Iowa, where he removed in 1870. 
 
 She was married to Hon. Jonah Sanford, Jr., 
 February 17th, 1847, and survived him seven 
 years and a day. It can be easily and safely said 
 that no man ever had a more faithful, loyal and 
 uncomplaining a helpmeet. Her cares and her 
 duties, from marriage till near the end, were 
 constant, unremitting and never for a moment 
 slighted. Faithful spirit, noble woman!
 
 Mother 111 
 
 She was ill only about two weeks, though she 
 had been feeble for a year or more. During this 
 illness she was able to be up every day, even in 
 the afternoon preceding her demise. Her chil 
 dren, Carlton E., Herbert J. and Mrs. Alice C. 
 Shepard, were with her at the end. Her only 
 remaining child, Silas H., was at the World's 
 Fair, where he had gone only a few days previ 
 ous. 
 
 Her daughter, Mrs. Shepard, was constantly 
 with her and ministered to her every want, as 
 only the loving sympathy and affectionate re 
 gard of a daughter could. She was conscious 
 till nearly the last, and the end came calmly and 
 peacefully, befitting her sweet and loving nature. 
 
 She was a bright, intelligent woman, a most 
 excellent housewife, assiduous and attentive to 
 all her duties, kind, gentle, generous and hospit 
 able to all. Her life was completely, and per 
 fectly, a labor of love. She never thought of self, 
 only the comfort and happiness of others, and this 
 spirit, which had actuated and dominated her 
 whole life, was true to the last. Waking from a 
 slumber just before her death, she feebly ex 
 pressed her sorrow to be causing others trouble 
 and requested her watching friends to seek their 
 rest. What a spirit was hers! So perfectly un 
 selfish, she could not bear to cause others even 
 an extra footstep. And yet she did not mind 
 the footsteps she took for the members of 
 her family and other loved ones. Continually
 
 112 Letters-Essays 
 
 through life, after a day's labor at home, she was 
 going to sick neighbors for miles about, to watch 
 and tender her loving help. What tenderness 
 and loving sympathy she bestowed, all the while 
 and every night, for years upon her tired and 
 truant boys as she accompanied them to bed! 
 How sweetly she reproved them for the little 
 errors of the day, and besought a promise for 
 better conduct on the morrow as she kissed them 
 good night. How little they then knew of the 
 full import of all that tenderness and love! It 
 must have helped them, little rascals that they 
 were, and so, after all, was not entirely lost. 
 
 She was, too, a most heroic woman. Never a 
 murmur of complaint escaped her lips. She ac 
 cepted whatever came, whatever is, with Chris 
 tian fortitude, and did her best to get as much 
 sunshine out of life as possible. She was always 
 kind and affectionate, and so much so that it was 
 seldom, if ever, that she uttered a harsh or un 
 kind word toward or of another. Her friends 
 comprised all who knew her all who came into 
 contact with her. A dutiful wife, a loving mother, 
 a sweet spirit, she died as she had lived, peace 
 fully at rest in a full Christian belief and life. If 
 there be, as surely there must be, a Celestial 
 Home for such spirits as hers, she, of all the 
 writer has known gained as ready an entrance. 
 Her remains were tenderly laid to rest, Rev. Enos 
 Wood officiating, beside those of her husband in 
 the cemetery at Hopkinton.
 
 n the %awn witb the Bitbs 
 
 Struggle o Xive 
 
 IITTING with some friends on our lawn re 
 cently, the goodly part of a beautiful 
 day, some stray and possibly strange 
 thoughts flitted through my mind which 
 I will try to express in cold letters and words. 
 I can but feebly and faintly do it, as all who have 
 tried to express the meditations and reveries of 
 the mind will attest. It was a charming day. A 
 recent shower had bathed and kissed the giant 
 elms, the newly mown lawns, the flowers and 
 shrubs about, and all nature, as the sun flitted 
 in and out the small passing clouds, was radiant 
 in her deepest hues >of green. The air, too, was 
 balmy and rich in ozone thrown off from such 
 luxuriant verdure. The birds, lovely little 
 creatures, gifted with song which our ladies try 
 to imitate, were bobbing about almost at our feet, 
 looking with watchful eye for insect, bug or worm 
 to carry to their children, also alighting in the 
 trees over our heads and chirping a kindly greet 
 ing, as much as to say:
 
 114 Letters-Essays 
 
 " We are not afraid of you, as you do not 
 throw stones at us or shoot us or our little ones 
 with toy guns, and we bid you welcome; the most 
 of us come nearly two thousand miles every 
 springtime to kill the insects, bugs, etc., that 
 would otherwise hurt or greatly injure your 
 crops, your vines and plants. We fill the air with 
 mirth and song to please you as we work. In 
 turn some of you buy your cruel and heartless 
 boys guns with which to shoot us, and some of 
 you sit and applaud them as they bring us down 
 with a fatal shot. But worse than the cruel boys 
 are your pet cats. They are our remorseless and 
 most fatal enemy. But for them we would come 
 to you in twice 'the numbers that we do. Why 
 do you keep them, or at least, why do you let 
 them loose upon us! " 
 
 The scene was fine, and the field one of loveli 
 ness for meditation and reflection which no pen 
 can portray or depict in its silent depths! And 
 yet, enchanting and lovely as it all was, viewed 
 for pleasure only, it soon became, as we shall see, 
 a miniature battle field. 
 
 The robin with his red breast, trim and beauti 
 fully rounded and proportioned figure, as he 
 jumps and bobs along, with head erect, all the 
 time searching for insect, bug or worm life to 
 feed himself and his little family in a neighbor 
 ing tree, is ever watchful, all the while, never 
 jumping but a few times before he stops, and 
 views the field, to see that no hawk or cat or 
 other animal is about to jump upon him and take 
 his life, as he is doing to smaller creatures. Watch
 
 On the Lawn with the Birds 115 
 
 him as he bobs along. See how quickly he cocks 
 his head to turn his full eye into the grass and 
 how suddenly he strikes. See, he has caught a 
 worm just sticking his nose to the surface of the 
 ground for a little air and sunshine. How he 
 jerks and pulls, straight up, since he seems to 
 know that if he steps back the side pressure 
 would give the worm the advantage. He works 
 violently for the first moment till he gets the 
 worm out far enough, so he can't work back into 
 the ground, while he rests and surveys the field to 
 see that no enemy has crept onto him during his 
 distraction. Seeing that he is safe, he again tugs 
 and pulls, now stepping back as the worm comes 
 out. The struggle over and the worm stretched 
 out on the grass where he cannot get away, he 
 bobs about and surveys his surroundings with 
 greater care, when he proceeds to bite him into 
 pieces, that he can the better carry him to his 
 young. The worm writhes and twists and squirms 
 as this is done, which is proof that it hurts and 
 pains him, but the robin heeds not and cares not 
 his anguish, no pity or feeling troubles him. Life 
 is sweet to him and he must eat to live. He loves 
 his young and they must have food. The worm is 
 nutritious and palatable and his need and his 
 nature tell him that it is his right to pull the 
 worm by main strength out of his home in the 
 ground, and to kill and to eat him. Perhaps it 
 is. He does it at any rate the livelong day. 
 And while in this reverie over the destruction
 
 116 Letters-Essays 
 
 of life by the birds for food, and trying to reason 
 out why it is or why it should be, we are all 
 startled and aroused by a greater example of 
 this same principle of warfare to live. Our robin 
 has thoughtlessly bobbed, watching the while, 
 close up to a low shrub. Our cat which we greatly 
 prize, some distance away, has noticed the fool 
 ish action of the bird. Slyly and silently he 
 hastens to get the bush between him and the 
 robin when he creeps rapidly and silently for 
 ward. Beaching a vantage position, intently 
 alert, with murder in his heart, he studies the 
 whole situation, the distance, the way the robin 
 will go on his flight, when, with a great spring, 
 he bounds, not at the bird on the ground, but into 
 the air, where the bird's course and his will meet. 
 He calculates aright. The cat's claws reach him 
 and bring him down. There is much flutter of 
 wings, great crying and wailing by the poor bird 
 for a moment only, yet it is sufficient to arouse all 
 the birds about and what a screeching and chat 
 ter they make. Their wailing is something ter 
 rible. It is deeply sincere and even pathetic. The 
 women, too, some of them, are greatly agitated. 
 They jump from their seats at the first cry of 
 the caught bird, and chase the cat, crying out 
 with the birds as they run : ' ' Oh, that is too bad, 
 you naughty cat. Drop him. Poor bird. How 
 dare you? " 
 
 The cat goes under the barn, where he can 
 eat his delicious meal undisturbed by the chat-
 
 On the Lawn with the Birds 117 
 
 ter of birds or the wail of women. The birds sit 
 about in the trees, on the fences, or other ob 
 jects, for some time pathetically chirping a dirge 
 for their lost companion and friend. The women 
 come back, resume their seats and for a time we 
 hear nothing but their sorrow for the robin and 
 their love for the cat. And as we listen to their 
 conflicting sentiments the thought comes to me, 
 " Can that which is shocking to the mind of a 
 gentle, noble woman be intrinsically right? " 
 While we cogitate upon this query and its allied 
 and kindred subjects, as much in the mist when 
 we stop as when we began, our cat comes slowly 
 back to us. There is no fire in his eye now. Ap 
 petite is satiated. He is dull. A feather is 
 caught in the whiskers of his face. His mistress 
 gets up and going to him removes it. She does 
 not strike him, simply says: " You naughty, 
 naughty cat. Why did you kill that poor bird? " 
 We soon forget the incident and go on with our 
 musings and petty talk. Our cat strolls away a 
 bit, when, like a flash, round the house comes an 
 Irish setter. Away goes the cat and after him 
 at a furious pace goes the dog. The women rush 
 to their feet, crying out frantically. Some start 
 one way around the house and others the other, 
 so as to be sure to intercept the dog, but they are 
 only fairly started when back round the house 
 comes the cat, frightened unto death, with the 
 dog close at his heels and gaining. The women 
 rush after them, but it is a hopeless chase. They
 
 118 Letters-Essays 
 
 cry out to the men, " Why don't you help! He 
 will surely kill the cat." The cat, heavy with 
 the bird in his stomach, is handicapped and fears 
 to go round the house again. He spies a tree in 
 the corner of the yard. Can he reach it? It is 
 his only hope. If so he is safe. If not his time 
 has come. He puts forth a tremendous effort 
 and, by jumping when ten feet away, striking 
 the tree some five or six feet up, has just saved 
 himself. The women breathe easier. They throw 
 sticks and stones at the dog, scold and storm at 
 him, and finally drive him away. Slowly they 
 return to their seats, taunting the men with being 
 cruel, heartless, and even lazy in not getting up 
 and frightening the dog. The women are tired. 
 They fan themselves vigorously, craning their 
 heads and necks to free the collar with interjec 
 tions of, " You are a pretty lot of men, you are, 
 to sit here and watch that dog almost catch and 
 kill that cat." The men smile and laugh just a 
 little, not much, saying, " They were too quick 
 for us. But how they did run. " ' ' Yes, ' * retorts 
 one of the ladies, " and I just believe you didn't 
 care if the dog caught him. I don't see how you 
 men can be so cruel. The mean, plaguy dogs 
 are good for nothing. Why anyone keeps them 
 I can't see. They ought to be killed." The men 
 subside. It is better they should. Feeling and 
 passion are getting a little strained. Luckily for 
 all, the dinner bell rings. The hostess, rising, 
 says, " Dinner is ready." It is a little late. All
 
 On the Lawn with the Birds 119 
 
 are a bit hungry and arise promptly, not hur 
 riedly, as that would signify gross appetite, which 
 is animal and must not be shown if we would 
 be aesthetic. We leisurely proceed to the din 
 ing-room, making, or trying to make, as we go, 
 playful and pleasant remarks. Some succeed and 
 soma do not. Those who try hardest succeed the 
 least. Reaching the table, we stand about, with 
 hand on the back of the chair, awaiting the nod 
 of the hostess that all may be seated in unison, 
 thus dispelling any show of coarse appetite, 
 which a hasty seating would signify. 
 
 The loin of a lamb is on the table. It has been 
 cooked richly and well. The odor is fine and it 
 looks most tempting and palatable. The farmer 
 caught the lamb, a few days prior, while it was 
 gamboling around, over and off a great flat rock, 
 verily like a child, in the corner of the pasture, 
 with its big eyed mother watching its antics. The 
 mother ran to the barway and up and down the 
 fence, bleating piteously as the farmer led her 
 child away. Her grief was sincere, genuine, sim 
 ilar for all the world to human sorrow, and she 
 expressed it, not in word, but in tones and wail- 
 ings that were just as unmistakable. She prob 
 ably did not know the awful fate that was soon 
 to overtake her child, but she did know that she 
 was being robbed. The farmer sold the lamb to 
 the village butcher. He cut its throat and par 
 celed its body out among his customers. One 
 piece is before us. We bow our heads and one
 
 120 Letters-Essays 
 
 of our number asks God to bless this bountiful 
 repast to our good. The lamb is served to all. 
 We indulge in light and cheerful talk, mingled 
 now and then with a little mirth and mild 
 laughter. The guests gently compliment the hos 
 tess on the salad, or bread, or some other article, 
 inquire how it was prepared and close by tolling 
 how they prepare it, which is a little different. 
 Not a word is said about the delicious lamb. I 
 do not wonder that there is not, after the exhi 
 bition of pity, feeling and sympathy that we just 
 witnessed out on the lawn, for the robin and 
 cat. 
 
 Just to transfer that scene and the feelings it 
 awakened to the dining-room, not pointedly, for 
 that might be rude, I ventured to ask, " How is 
 
 it that we so bewail the conduct of the " 
 
 But I did not finish it. I looked to the hostess 
 for approval or to see whether it would do, when 
 my eyes met a frown that stilled the tongue. She 
 knew what was coming and I knew she would, or 
 I would not guiltily have looked her way. The 
 guests did not know, nor did they see the frown, 
 and so they plied me with, ' * What were you going 
 to ask? Why don't you finish it? We would like 
 to hear it." A little nervous and flushed in the 
 face, I replied, " No, I guess I better not. It 
 was of no account." " Oh, yes it was," cries a 
 lady guest. " Tell us what you were going to 
 say, our curiosity is all aroused and we want to 
 hear it. ' ' Declining as best I can, the hostess, to
 
 On the Lawn with the Birds 121 
 
 help me out, says, " Well, will we go back to the 
 lawn? " and as she does so arises, and of course 
 all followed. It was a slick, and even an artful 
 move on her part and let me out of a dilemma 
 without a guest even suspecting the woeful topic 
 I was about to propound. 
 
 I would liked to have done it, but probably it 
 would not have been polite or gentlemanly to so 
 disturb company. We go back to the lawn. The 
 gentlemen smoke. Conversation is smart for a 
 time, when it begins to lag. The lamb is digesting 
 and it makes us a little dull and dozy. One of 
 the ladies turns in her seat and cries out, * * Why, 
 there is the cat still up in the tree sleeping." 
 " Don't disturb him," replies the hostess; " let 
 him sleep. He is where the dogs can't get him." 
 Yes, the cat was sleeping from digesting the 
 robin. We, too, were more than half asleep from 
 digesting the lamb. In fact, one of the men came 
 near losing his head over the back of the chair 
 several times. The same law was working in us 
 and in the cat. The cat caught her own meal. 
 The butcher killed ours and we bought it. We 
 could not have killed the lamb. Some of us could 
 not even see it done. There are some so gentle 
 and sensitive that a sight of the butchery would 
 be horrifying. And yet the most kindly hearted 
 and sympathetic amongst us sit up to the table 
 and eat fowl, pig, calf, lamb, etc., which the 
 butcher has killed for us, and which he would 
 not have killed had he not known we would buy
 
 122 Letters-Essays 
 
 it, without the slightest discomfiture. These same 
 people go almost into hysterics as they see a cat 
 running away with a screeching, fluttering robin 
 in its mouth or a dog pouncing upon a cat. 
 
 While we are thus half dozing, soothed by the 
 warm and balmy air, the cat wakes up, stretches 
 itself and backs down the tree to the ground. 
 Leisurely he crosses the lawn and, joining our 
 party unnoticed, mews a greeting. The ladies 
 hear him, awaken instantly and welcome him 
 with soft and tender words. One of them takes 
 him in her lap and with her soft hand plying from 
 the top of his head along his back most caress 
 ingly, says, " You are a nice little kitten. That 
 was a mean, naughty dog that gave you such a 
 chase for your life. We were awfully afraid he 
 would catch you." The men, hearing the " cat 
 talk," straighten up, stretch themselves, yawn a 
 little to the side or under the cover of the hand 
 kerchief and one of them ejaculates, " Well, I 
 declare, I believe I was getting drowsy. You 
 must excuse me," turning to the hostess, " your 
 most excellent meal and these pleasant surround 
 ings came near getting the best of me." " No 
 apology is necessary," replies the hostess, " I 
 think," smiling a little, " we all as narrowly es 
 caped as you." 
 
 Looking at his watch, one of the men says, 
 speaking to his wife, " Do you know what time 
 it is? It is after seven. How time has flown! 
 George, you know, said he would call this even-
 
 On the Lawn with the Birds 123 
 
 ing. He would feel hurt if we were not there to 
 receive him." Saying this, he arose, as did the 
 others. The hostess urges them to dally, saying 
 it was not late, but it was no use. With hand 
 shaking all round, much complimentary, and 
 even effusive, talk as to the fine dinner and pleas 
 ant time, we all saunter to the roadway walk, 
 jesting and laughing as we go. Again the good 
 byes are said and they are gone. A little dis 
 tance away one of the men calls back to the 
 hostess holding the cat in her arms, " The next 
 time I come I will bring my gun." She replies, 
 " I wish you would." 
 
 Now that our company is gone I can indulge 
 in a little reverie without being uncivil. I can 
 ask the questions that the frown at the dinner 
 table arrested my doing. Why did the hostess 
 give me such a look? Would talk about murder 
 for food by man, since we are all doing it, be 
 wrong or wicked or simply indelicate in the pres 
 ence of refined ladies while they are partaking 
 of it? Why be ashamed of it, if it be right? If 
 it be cruel or wicked I can well see why " the 
 less said the better. ' ' Why are we cultured mor 
 tals so shocked at the work of the cat, dog, hawk, 
 wolf, tiger, etc., when we butcher the bossie calf, 
 sporting lamb, noble ox and about everything 
 else whose flesh is toothsome? They kill as they 
 need. We slaughter by the wholesale and often 
 for sport and amusement. Is it the divine prin 
 ciple that makes it right for us and something
 
 124 Letters-Essays 
 
 shocking when they who do not know better and 
 cannot otherwise live, do it? I do not know. At 
 any rate, there is a cruel, pitiless warfare going 
 on all the while everywhere to live. It is in the 
 air, in the sea, in the ground, in the forest, and, 
 with a powerful glass may be seen in a tiny drop 
 of impure water by animate beings too small for 
 the human eye to discern. Will some great man 
 of science yet come to solve these mysteries 
 which perplex and make us sad at least, some 
 of us? Tell us, oh, ye gods, why the basic prin 
 ciple of animal life and living should be murder!
 
 HON. GEORGE Z. BRWIN
 
 Ifoon. (Beorge Z. lErwin 
 
 E. ERWIN was born at Madrid, N. Y.. June 
 15, 1840, and spent his boyhood life on 
 his father's farm. He was educated at 
 the old St. Lawrence Academy, in Pots 
 dam, and at Middlebury College, from which he 
 was graduated in 1865. On completion of his 
 college course he took up the study of law in 
 the office of Dart & Tappan in Potsdam, and was 
 admitted to the bar in 1867. 
 
 Hon. William A. Dart was appointed Consul- 
 General to Montreal in 1869, and on his retire 
 ment from the firm, Mr. Erwin entered into part 
 nership with Charles 0. Tappan, Esq., under the 
 firm name of Tappan & Erwin. This firm did 
 quite a lucrative business until January 1st, 1878, 
 when it was dissolved, Judge Tappan taking his 
 seat on the Supreme Court bench. After this, Mr. 
 Erwin practiced law alone for a time, when the 
 law firm of Dart & Erwin was formed, which 
 continued until the death of Mr. Dart in 1891. 
 
 Mr. Erwin was about five feet ten inches in 
 height, very stockily built, with heavy frame, 
 possessing great vigor and strength, and weigh 
 ing two hundred and twenty-five pounds or over.
 
 126 Letters-Essays 
 
 He was a man of great tenacity of purpose and 
 most indefatigable in whatever he undertook. 
 Those who thwarted or opposed him in his ef 
 forts or his movements found him a most unre 
 lenting antagonist. 
 
 All these qualities were plainly shown in his 
 face, in his large, firm, set mouth, and in his 
 heavy, square jaw. His predominant character 
 istics were tireless energy, combative force and 
 indomitable will, and these qualities account for 
 and explain many of his successes in political 
 life. 
 
 It can hardly be said, I think, that he was an 
 orator, writer, or cultured student. His nature 
 was too strong to apply himself sufficiently to 
 become a student. He was, however, a most 
 genial and pleasant companion, always full of 
 spirit, frolic and life, easily and readily stirring 
 every camp, party or gathering which he visited 
 into a happy, jolly crowd. In this particular he 
 was quite remarkable, and, of course, his com 
 pany sought after on all occasions by the boys 
 and politicians. All this radiance of cheer and 
 life seemed to be the natural and spontaneous 
 work of his nature, and made him a host of 
 friends, which were, on many occasions, very 
 serviceable indeed. He was an artist in placa 
 ting an enemy, or one bent on disturbing his 
 plans, and in mollifying and pacifying all rebel 
 lious spirits. He excelled all in repairing 
 " fences " and so well did he do it that they did
 
 Hon. George Z. Erwin 127 
 
 not show the mending. A characteristic way of 
 his in reaching a party or in tying a friend to 
 him was to tell him a great political secret " on 
 the dead," one that no one in these parts knew, 
 one that he would not have " get out for the 
 world, ' ' one that he would not divulge to another 
 soul in this locality, exacting a most solemn 
 pledge not to reveal it. This was readily given 
 since his confidant's curiosity had been greatly 
 wrought up by the solemn and mysterious man 
 ner of Mr. Erwin. In imparting it, he would put 
 his two hands together, making a box of them up 
 against the listener's ear, and his mouth over the 
 space between his own two thumbs, talking the 
 great secret directly into the friend's ear, so that 
 not a syllable should get outside, even though no 
 one was in the room or present. To some it may 
 look strange that such a course or way should 
 have any effect, but it did. It made the man feel 
 that he was " quite a fellow " to be made such 
 a confidant, and the " only " one. 
 
 With his friends, particularly in all matters of 
 politics, Mr. Erwin 's great expression was " on 
 the dead," and they are still repeating the 
 phrase, imitating the manner in which he did it 
 and said it, accompanying it with laughter and 
 genuine good will. Thomas C. Platt used this 
 course for years, and on bigger men than there 
 are in these parts, and successfully. By the boys 
 and his friends at home he was pretty generally 
 called " Zal," and still is.
 
 128 Letters-Essays 
 
 Mr. Dart, whose daughter he married soon after 
 being admitted to the bar, was a bright and ac 
 complished gentleman, and a Eepublican advo 
 cate, as was also Judge Tappan. Thus, in be 
 ginning the study of law he was in the atmos 
 phere of stalwart Eepublicanism, which was also 
 congenial to him. He at once took a live and 
 active interest in all political matters in his town 
 and assembly district. He was naturally a poli 
 tician. He liked nothing better than a political 
 contest, into which he threw all the winning 
 qualities and energies of his nature. So active 
 was he that in November, 1881, he was elected 
 member of the Assembly from the third district 
 of St. Lawrence. Though a new member, he was 
 placed on the Ways and Means Committee, and 
 was also made a member of several investigating 
 committees. He was re-elected in 1882, and made 
 a member of the same committee, also that of 
 railroads. In 1883 he had most decided oppo 
 sition in his efforts for renomination, owing to 
 the custom of the district not to send a man but 
 twice in succession, but he triumphed, owing 
 wholly and entirely to his great pluck, tact, abil 
 ity to placate opponents and indomitable energy. 
 In 1884 he was a member of several of the most 
 important committees, and also of a special com 
 mittee to investigate the Public Works Depart 
 ment in New York City. 
 
 In 1884 he was nearly successful in his effort 
 to gain the Speakership, and in 1885 he easily
 
 Eon. George Z. Erwin 129 
 
 reached that honorable and coveted position. He 
 made a most excellent presiding officer, and 
 served in the assembly for six years in all, 1882- 
 1887. 
 
 In 1887 he was elected to the State Senate from 
 the twentieth district, holding that position for 
 three terms, 1888-1893. As a legislator, both in 
 the assembly and senate, he had the peculiar 
 faculty of making friends with all, and enemies 
 of none, democrats as well as republicans. He 
 became, after a little experience, well informed 
 on all parliamentary rules, and quite a good 
 debater, by reason of his force, will power, and, 
 at times, terrific attack. 
 
 He secured, while in the Legislature, the 
 passage of quite a number of important meas 
 ures. Among these was an act organizing the 
 Dairy Department at Albany; the prohibition of 
 the sale of liquor in five gallon lots in towns 
 which had no license; the securing of an appro 
 priation of eighty-one thousand dollars in 1893 
 to restore the burned asylum building at Ogdens- 
 burg, which he had made a law in five days, and 
 in securing the passage of an act in 1886, in four 
 or five days, authorizing the trustees of the vil 
 lage of Potsdam to put in sewers and drains. 
 The passage of these measures in such a brief 
 time shows the estimation in which he was held 
 by the members of the Legislature and the power 
 he possessed in those bodies. The effort which 
 brought him the most notoriety and fame while
 
 130 Letters-Essays 
 
 in the Legislature was his leadership of the 
 forces supporting Frank Hisoock in 1887 for 
 United States Senator. In this struggle, against 
 fearful odds, his leadership was Napoleonic in 
 its originality and boldness. 
 
 Though his time was greatly taken up in his 
 efforts to keep the political machinery of his dis 
 trict in smooth running order, he never 
 neglected the welfare of his home village or con 
 stituents. No man from Northern New York, 
 while in office, looked after his people so well as 
 he did. No one ever secured anything like the 
 number of places for his constituents that he did. 
 There were at one time upwards of twenty-five 
 of these holding positions under the state gov 
 ernment or that of New York City. He seemed 
 to lhave a great ' ' pull ' ' or influence with the of 
 ficials of the state and city. 
 
 In the great effort to locate the Normal School 
 in Potsdam Village, in 1868, he took an active 
 and influential part, and was soon made a mem 
 ber of its local board, and a little later treas 
 urer of the board, which he continued to hold 
 till his death. He assisted in the organization 
 of 'the Fair Society at Potsdam in 1871, and was 
 for several years a member of its board of direc 
 tors and for one year its president. 
 
 In the struggle to sewer and drain the village, 
 in 1886, after securing the passage of an act 
 enabling the village to do this, he returned to his 
 home and aided and assisted the work in every
 
 Hon. George Z. Erwm 131 
 
 way he could. He was one of the organizers of 
 the Thatcher Manufacturing Company, a most 
 successful industry, and was Vice-President of 
 the company from its organization in 1890 to his 
 death. He was also one of the promoters of the 
 High Falls Sulphite Company, and was its Presi 
 dent. 
 
 In his life at home, among his neighbors and 
 those who knew him he was always genial, social 
 and companionable. His high position made no 
 difference whatever in his treatment of all who 
 came into his presence. There was nothing of 
 the snob or aristocrat in his make-up or nature. 
 He ever gave to the poorest and lowliest of his 
 neighbors as kind a word and as warm a hand 
 grasp as he did to those who ranked higher in 
 life. This trait in him, with others previously 
 stated, made him a host of friends and a most 
 formidable antagonist in any political struggle or 
 caucus. For many years he held absolute sway 
 in his town and in his assembly district. He 
 seemed to simply own the district and to name 
 every nominee to office and delegate to conven 
 tions. There were, of course, times of bitter op 
 position, but he always triumphed, though there 
 was more or less complaint at times over his au 
 dacity and boldness in securing success. 
 
 The sport-loving members of the community 
 were always and ever his constant and most 
 loyal friends. They stood ever ready to do his 
 bidding in any struggle, and today, thirteen years
 
 132 Letters-Essays 
 
 after his demise, his name and memory come up 
 more frequently and are spoken of with more 
 warmth and friendliness by this circle of men 
 than the name and memory of 'any who has de 
 parted that I can name. He had and held their 
 affection to an amazing extent, and his memory 
 will linger with them so long as life shall last. 
 
 About a year before his death, owing to his 
 strenuous life and indefatigable labors in the 
 political field, his health began to fail him, and 
 he went to the Maine coast, hoping by perfect 
 quiet to renew his health. Later he went to a 
 specialist in New York City, who informed him 
 that his heart was in bad condition, and that he 
 should return to his home. From this time till 
 his death, January 16th, 1894, he was a great suf 
 ferer, having extreme difficulty in breathing. 
 For a week prior to his death there seemed to be 
 some slight improvement, and on Tuesday morn 
 ing at 5 o'clock he got up, as was his custom, to 
 sit for a few moments in his chair, and this 
 proved his last effort. Very soon he said to 
 his attendant: " I feel faint; help me back to 
 bed." This was done, and in a few moments he 
 had breathed his last. It was indeed a peaceful 
 ending to an active and most strenuous life. 
 
 There was a large attendance at his funeral, 
 including many prominent officials and politicians 
 from the county and different parts of the State. 
 
 He left a widow, Mrs. Caroline Dart Erwin, to 
 mourn his untimely going.
 
 \>8ter farming 
 
 HE American Fisheries Society held its 
 twenty-fourth annual meeting in the 
 Aquarium in New York City on Wednes 
 day of last week. There were, I should 
 judge, some fifty portly, fine looking gentlemen 
 in attendance, representatives from various 
 states, even as far west as Nebraska. Hearing 
 so much of the drouth in Nebraska and Kansas, 
 one would hardly expect to find gentlemen from 
 those states attending a fish meeting. But they 
 were there, and bright, intelligent men they were. 
 So it must be they have streams and ponds, after 
 all, in those drouth-stricken regions. The Fish, 
 Game and Forest Commissioners of this state 
 also attended the meeting in a semi-official ca 
 pacity. Eeceiving a courteous and generous in 
 vitation through the kindness of William E. 
 Weed, one of the Commissioners, to attend the 
 meeting and also an excursion on the following 
 day, inspecting oyster beds and oyster culture on 
 Long Island Sound, I very gratefully accepted 
 the same. 
 
 The Aquarium is the old Castle Garden, reno 
 vated and made over into a fine structure for the
 
 134 Letters-Essays 
 
 purpose. Originally it was a fort and has a stone 
 wall seven feet in thickness about one story in 
 height, in circular form on the water side. These 
 walls, good in their time, perhaps, would be of 
 but little service now our latest guns would 
 throw a ball through both walls about as readily 
 as it would through two sheets of tissue paper. 
 As an Aquarium it is yet quite incomplete. How 
 ever, there are a good many strange fishes and 
 water animals to be seen there at present. The 
 tank in which the most interest was taken con 
 tained two seals about three feet in length. They 
 are not of the fur species, but of the hair species, 
 the kind on which the Eskimos principally live. 
 
 The meeting of the society lasted nearly all day, 
 and consisted of reading papers on all sorts 
 of topics relating to fish culture, and to discus 
 sion of the points brought out by these papers. 
 On the following day, under the auspices of the 
 Fish, Game and Forest Commissioners of this 
 state, an inspection of the oyster beds of Long 
 Island Sound was made. The boat for the ex 
 cursion, for such it proved to be, was furnished 
 by the wealthy and public spirited citizen, John 
 H. Starin, who owns many boats plying about 
 New York City. The party consisted of about 
 fifty gentlemen, most of whom are either inter 
 ested in fish culture or prominent in other walks. 
 Messrs. B. H. Davis, H. H. Lyman, Edward 
 Thompson and William E. Weed, of the State 
 Commissioners; J. A. Roberts, Comptroller of
 
 Oyster Farming 135 
 
 the State; T. E. Hancock, Attorney General of 
 the state; Senators Kilburn, Guy and Stapleton; 
 A. N. Cheney, fish culturist of the state; E. P. 
 Doyle, secretary of the commissioners, and others 
 were present. The boat left the Battery at ten 
 a. m. and passed up East Eiver under the Brook 
 lyn Bridge, through Hell Gate and out into Long 
 Island Sound. The bridge is one hundred and 
 thirty-five feet from the water, but as we passed 
 under it, it did not seem to be near that height. 
 The East Eiver for several miles was verily alive 
 with every conceivable craft. In the mouth of 
 the Sound we passed a large number of vessels 
 at anchor, sails furled, waiting for wind, tide or 
 a tug to take them down East Eiver. We pro 
 ceeded up the Sound about forty-five miles, 
 nearly opposite Northport, L. I. The Sound at 
 this point is seven miles in width. There we met 
 a small steam oyster boat, which came along 
 side our boat and about as readily as two farmers 
 could turn two wagons along side one another 
 in the street. In a moment we got aboard the 
 oyster boat and steamed away a short distance. 
 Commissioner Thompson at this time took charge 
 of the party and of the proceedings. He stated 
 that we were then over one of the best beds in 
 the Sound and that he would explain oyster prop 
 agation and culture, which he proceeded to do in 
 a verbal and practical way. By the way, Mr. 
 Thompson is a bright and genial man. He lives 
 at Northport and is largely interested in oyster
 
 136 Letters-Essays 
 
 raising. The boat we were on is principally 
 owned by him and was out in the Sound for the 
 entertainment of our party at his instance. He 
 is the principal stockholder in the company 
 which is compiling and publishing The Encyclo 
 paedia of Law, a very popular and useful work 
 and one that has proved very remunerative to 
 him. 
 
 The subject of oyster raising is one that I find 
 is but little understood by the general public, or 
 even by the more cultured public. From the re 
 marks that were made I do not think there was 
 one on the boat, aside from those interested in 
 the business, that had any conception of oyster 
 culture. Only recently I desired to investigate 
 the subject, and secured two encyclopaedias, but 
 could get no information of any importance. The 
 practical methods used for propagation and cul 
 ture Messrs. Thompson and Capt. Dexter K. Cole, 
 of Northport, L. L, gave me briefly on the boat. 
 I will relate the same as told to me. Accord 
 ing to these gentlemen, the whole of Long Island 
 Sound is adapted to oyster raising. It is mostly 
 of the proper depth. The waters are protected 
 from great turbulence by the land on either side 
 and contain the proper elements of nutrition. 
 The south half or so of the Sound belongs to New 
 York state and the north half to Connecticut. 
 Some years ago this state gave the Northport 
 Oyster Company a franchise of two hundred 
 acres selected by the company in the Sound for
 
 Oyster Farming 137 
 
 oyster raising. A franchise is a perpetual lease. 
 Other parties made bitter complaints at this 
 concession, principally on the ground that the 
 state was being a party to a monopoly, that the 
 weak oyster men would soon be ruined, etc. In 
 this they were successful, as the state has de 
 clined to grant any further franchises. Since 
 then the greatest privilege given by the state is 
 a fifteen-year lease. A good many maintain, and 
 with some reason, it would seem, that it should 
 be a franchise in every instance, as it is quite 
 expensive to fit, stock and care for an oyster bed. 
 It would seem to be quite difficult for one to find 
 his own bed of a few acres, from three to five miles 
 from land, but they say those experienced have 
 no trouble whatever. They locate the boundaries 
 by buoys and by angles and lines from desig 
 nated objects on the shore which are noted and 
 written out by the engineers the same as a piece 
 of land when it is conveyed. However, I think 
 it would be some time before one of our farmers 
 could learn to find his bed as readily as he now 
 does his potato patch or corn field. 
 
 The first thing to do in oyster cultivation, after 
 locating the section, is to clean the ground. The 
 depth of water usually selected for a bed is from 
 thirty-six to forty feet. The ground is cleared 
 of seaweed, decayed matter and dirty soil by 
 means of a sort of scraper, worked by steam from 
 a boat. When the bed is properly cleaned, it is 
 covered over with broken stones, oyster, clam
 
 138 Letters-Essays 
 
 and other shells and coarse gravel. About a 
 thousand bushels of stone, shells and gravel are 
 put upon each acre of the bed. Thus prepared, 
 they get oysters, three and four years of age, 
 from several localities and spread them over the 
 bed. They usually put about ten bushels of 
 oysters on each acre and they are put on in July 
 or August. The oysters to seed the bed are se 
 lected from several localities for the reason that 
 very often the oysters taken from one locality 
 will not thrive or propagate when transplanted, 
 and there is no way of determining in advance 
 whether they will propagate or not. The beds 
 are seeded in July and August, as the oyster 
 spawns in the latter part of August and in Sep 
 tember, and it is desirable to give them a little 
 time in which to get suited to their new situation. 
 The spawn, late in October and in November, 
 is brown in color and about the size of the head 
 of a pin. They stick to the stone and shells 
 which have been prepared for them. If crushed 
 when in this diminutive state it will be perceived 
 that they have an embryo shell. There is no 
 means of definitely knowing, but it is believed 
 that a single oyster will spawn thousands of 
 young oysters. If the " seed oysters " should 
 prove to spawn well, or even fairly well, then 
 there are altogether too many oysters on the bed 
 for them to do well. The great difficulty experi 
 enced by oyster men is in getting a good * ' catch ' : 
 or " seed," -as they term the spawning. Should
 
 Oyster Farming 139 
 
 it prove a failure they can only stock it with a 
 fresh supply of seed oysters the following July 
 or August. Thus far oyster men, at least, are 
 unable to determine the sex of the oyster. The 
 oyster is never artificially fed. He gets all need 
 ful food from the salt water in which he lives. 
 The oyster does not grow to a proper size for 
 market until it has reached three years or more. 
 From three to five years is the best age for mar 
 ket. Oysters are harvested from September first 
 to May first only, for market. Aside from the 
 home consumption, it is estimated that from 
 seventy-five to a hundred thousand barrels of 
 oysters are shipped annually from in and about 
 Long Island Sound to Europe. The capital re 
 quired to properly cultivate oysters is about 
 $1,000 per acre. Annually the beds that are 
 doing well are thinned out. The oysters are 
 brought up by a scoop net to the boat and the 
 older ones selected out and taken to another bed, 
 where they are again planted to grow and fatten 
 for the market. The young oyster is dropped 
 back into the sea for capture at a later date. 
 Oysters, like every poor creature that I know 
 anything about, have their parasites, their ene 
 mies, aside from man, the majestic devourer of 
 every living creature that is toothsome. These 
 pests cause the oyster man a great amount of 
 labor and expense. They are known as the sea 
 star fish, the drill and the wrinkle. The greatest 
 enemy is the star fish, and the next the drill. The
 
 140 Letters-Essays 
 
 wrinkle is not a great destroyer. The oyster man 
 is compelled to be almost continually fighting 
 these pests. They often scoop up the whole bed 
 annually for this purpose alone. For our enlight 
 enment on this point, the scoop nets were thrown 
 out and three scoops of oysters, star fish, drills, 
 wrinkles, crabs and other unnameable and hideous 
 creaJtures brought up and dumped on the deck. 
 These nets were coarse rope netting with heavy 
 iron jaws at the mouth, the upper jaw having a 
 six-foot heavy iron handle attached in the mid 
 dle, and to the end of this a heavy chain. The 
 weight of the net is sufficient to unreel the chain 
 and sink it to the bottom. The chain, being at 
 tached to the iron arm of the upper jaw, keeps 
 the scoop right side up. The iron of the lower 
 jaw not being held, drops and opens the mouth 
 of the net. As the net is falling the boat is 
 slightly moving forward, which causes the net 
 to scoop up the oysters. When ready, the net or 
 scoop is hauled in by steam power and the con 
 tents dumped on the deck. If the work is being 
 done to rid the bed of its pests these are fished 
 out by hand and the oysters thrown back. If the 
 work be to thin out the bed or to select oysters 
 to fatten in other places these are picked out, as 
 also the pests. The star fish are thrown into 
 boiling water for certainty in killing. Tear off 
 the arm of one and it will grow out again. About 
 four bushels of oysters, etc., were brought up in 
 each scoop that we saw. Some scoops are suf-
 
 Oyster Farming 141 
 
 ficiently large to bring up twenty-five bushels 
 in a single dip. The star fish is usually from 
 five to six inches across, 'though they often reach 
 a diameter of twelve inches. They have five arms 
 or legs extending out from a common center at 
 equal distance, like the spokes of a wheel. The 
 arms are about the size of a lady's finger and 
 covered with white circular spots twice the size 
 of a pin head. There does not seem to be any 
 head or body, simply the legs come together in 
 the center, but Ithere is a mouth in the center 
 on one side. All that we saw had their legs out 
 straight and quite rigid. Bend their legs or step 
 on them and crush them or do what you please 
 to them, there was no sign of life whatever. They 
 put their mouth over the thin edge end of the 
 oyster shell and bring their legs to the shell, thus 
 enfolding it. It is not known that they can force 
 the shell open; it is rather believed that they lay 
 and wait till the oyster opens his shell for sus 
 tenance when they intrude a portion of them 
 selves, thus preventing the oyster from closing 
 the shell, when they are able to suck out and eat 
 the oyster. The drill is usually about a half -inch 
 in length, though in mature age it is three- 
 fourths of an inch. They are circular in form, 
 quite square at the base end and gently taper 
 to a point. The outside is shell and quite strong. 
 A needle or some kind of a boring bit extends 
 from the pointed end and bores a hole about the 
 size of a pin through the shell of the oyster. By
 
 142 Letters-Essays 
 
 means of this hole the oyster is eaten. The drill 
 does its greatest injury to young oysters. The 
 wrinkle is an animal larger than an oyster and 
 very lively when removed from its shell, which 
 is from six to eight inches in length, coming to 
 a point and rolled up at its base, something like 
 the shells which we have as curiosities. 
 
 Thus we see and learn that the eternal strug 
 gle, the pitiless warfare going on on land among 
 all animal creation is also going on in the bot 
 tom of the sea. After seeing and learning what 
 we did it is a wonder to me 'that oysters cost no 
 more than they do. I intended speaking of some 
 of the strange and hideous " beasts " which our 
 scoop brought up, but since that does not pertain 
 to oyster cultivation it would not properly appear 
 in this article. I have given the story of 
 oyster culture as stated to me by those gentle 
 men. I may not be accurately correct in some 
 minor particulars, but believe I am in all essen 
 tials.
 
 ZTbomas S, Clarion 
 
 T is sad and painful to think and to know 
 that Thomas S. Clarkson is no more. It 
 is sad and painful to think and to know 
 that we shall not again meet his strong 
 figure and kindly face in our daily walks. 
 It is sad, not tftiat death is a terror, for it 
 is not, and was not to him. Death is the 
 common fate of mankind. It is but the close 
 the earthly termination of a life. All the 
 living must die, and equally so must all those 
 who shall come. To die is but to complete the 
 great, the universal law of being. No, we mourn 
 not at death of itself, but over the ties which it 
 sunders, the loss we sustain. When it comes to 
 a mature and perfected life there is nothing more 
 natural more in consonance with the law of 
 being, and we should be content. But, when it 
 comes, as in this case, in the heyday of life, in 
 the midst of the activities of great usefulness 
 and good, bowing in humble submission as we 
 must and should, we cannot if we would, still 
 the lip from uttering, feebly it may be, the 
 anguish and sorrow which is upon us. There is 
 not, cannot be, anything wrong in this. To live 
 well, so nobly and well that our going will be re-
 
 144 Letters-Essays 
 
 gretted and mourned by those who knew us, is 
 the duty of all. Comforting is the thought that 
 He who rules the universe " doeth all things 
 well " and for the best good of all. Belying on 
 this universally believed doctrine we accept af 
 flictions which we cannot explain, wipe the mois 
 tened eye, still the quivering lip, and resume our 
 duties. Life is upon us and we must " be up 
 and doing with a heart for any fate. ' ' 
 
 Mr. Clarkson died at his home in Potsdam on 
 Sunday morning last, August 19, 1894, and the 
 news of his demise rapidly spread over our vil 
 lage. It was not startling, since every one knew 
 that his life was hanging by a thread, and had 
 been for several days. The accident, for such it 
 seems to mortal eyes, which caused his death, oc 
 curred on Tuesday of last week, August 14th, at 
 his stone quarry, about three miles above this 
 village, a pump, weighing nearly two and a half 
 tons, slipping from its blocks and falling upon 
 and crushing one of his legs. The workmen 
 soon succeeded in sufficiently raising the pump so 
 that he could be drawn from under it, when, 
 brave and heroic, he would not wait for a litter 
 to be prepared, but insisted on being taken home 
 in a farm wagon at once. His men so loved him 
 that several of them walked ahead of the team, 
 picking up the loose stones, to save him the jar 
 they would cause. 
 
 Beaching home, some three miles distant, his 
 first wish was to assure his sisters, telling them
 
 Thomas 8. Clarkson 145 
 
 that a broken leg was not a serious matter. How 
 ever, he seemed to realize that his injuries would 
 prove fatal, since he said to his niece: " This pain 
 is all right. I have not suffered any for over 
 fifty years, and it is a good preparation for 
 death." Thus feeling and believing, he refused 
 to take any stimulants or narcotics, preferring to 
 keep his senses and a clear mind, though suffer 
 ing intensely. 
 
 Mr. Clarkson was born in New York City No 
 vember 30, 1837, coming to this village in 1840. 
 He was a son of Thomas S. Clarkson, who re 
 sided here for many years and died here several 
 years ago. 
 
 As a young man he attended the old St. Law 
 rence Academy, finishing his education with pri 
 vate tutors. He and his brother, Levinus, con 
 ducted the Clarkson farm of upwards of a thous 
 and acres for several years. Between these broth 
 ers existed the kindliest regard and the most af 
 fectionate companionship. On his brother's 
 death in October, 1876, he gave his attention to 
 various business enterprises in our village. He 
 did this not so much to profit by them, though 
 he, of course, hoped to make them self-support 
 ing, but to give employment to our people. 
 Nothing pleased him more than to see all who 
 wished employment engaged in some lucrative 
 business. He entered into many enterprises in 
 which there was no apparent show of profit, 
 simply and solely to give employment to those
 
 146 Letters-Essays 
 
 needing it. He often expressed the wish that 
 some enterprise could be started here that would 
 give labor to every man and woman who desired 
 it, saying that if any one would do so he would 
 gladly furnish the money. No one accepting this 
 offer, he gave his attention to various enterprises 
 himself. He owned quite a part of the lower 
 half of Fall Island and most of the business done 
 on the Island was conducted directly or indi 
 rectly by him. The farm on which he resided con 
 sists ,of upwards of one thousand acres and re 
 quired quite a retinue of employes. He also 
 worked his stone quarries every season, employ 
 ing a large number of men. 
 
 He was a most just and generous employer, 
 perhaps too kind and forgiving, judged from a 
 business standpoint. Were all employers equally 
 as just there certainly would be no 'occasion for 
 a strike anywhere. His payroll at all times was 
 quite large, and during the summer season was 
 large indeed. Often asked why he bothered him 
 self with all the business cares in which he was 
 enlisted, he would answer with a laugh and 
 shrug of the shoulder: il Oh, to make money." 
 
 He gave his manufactories, stone quarries and 
 farm his constant and unremitting care and at 
 tention seldom if ever taking a vacation, or any 
 recreation, and yet he always had time to give to 
 those who wished to see him. He would give the 
 common laborer an interview as readily and pleas 
 antly as he would any one else, and more than
 
 Thomas 8. Clarkson 147 
 
 this, he would often help them in any sort of 
 work. 
 
 He was President of The Thatcher Manufactur 
 ing Company, The Electric Light Company, The 
 Clarkson Manufacturing Company and The Pots 
 dam Milk-Sugar Company, and also interested in 
 several co-partnerships. 
 
 He took a deep interest in the welfare of the 
 Episcopal Church of this village, of which he was 
 a member and also a warden. He took charge 
 of the building of the chapel, and also of the 
 magnificent front to the church a few years since, 
 and with his sisters, paid substantially the whole 
 of the expense. He also took charge of the build 
 ing of the Episcopal Church at Colton, the ex 
 pense of which was borne by his family. He also 
 took a great interest in -our cemetery grounds, 
 giving freely and generously to beautify and 
 adorn them. His charities and kindness were 
 most genuine and liberal and abound and are seen 
 on every hand. 
 
 (No man ever lived in Potsdam who took a 
 greater interest in or who did more, or as much, 
 with that in view, for the welfare and prosperity 
 of the village as did he. No one ever had to ask, 
 
 " Where stands Mr. Clarkson? " in any move 
 
 * 
 
 or project which tended to improve and better 
 the condition of the people. He did not take part 
 in politics, except in municipal matters now and 
 then, when needed improvements were involved. 
 He was several times a member of the board of
 
 148 Letters-Essays 
 
 trustees. During the struggle in 1886 to sewer 
 the village he was on the board and no one 
 worked more loyally and heroically than did he. 
 No good cause, no good movement was ever pre 
 sented to him which he did not help. His purse 
 and his hand were ever ready and willing to 
 help any worthy person or cause. He was a 
 friend of the church, the school, the poor and 
 lowly, and not only a friend, but a benefactor. 
 
 He was kind, gentle, generous and just. There 
 was no trickery, no cunning, no fraud in his 
 make-up or nature. He was honest in every move 
 and walk and turn of life. He could not be other 
 wise, and the rascality and perfidy of others 
 caused him pain. His habits were pure and 
 simple and his life sweet and wholesome. Dur 
 ing his whole life not a whisper was ever heard 
 to tarnish his name. His talk, his acts, his life 
 were those of a gentleman and man. He loved 
 his family, his sisters, and was devoted to them. 
 He loved everybody and never spoke ill of any 
 one. His heart was too big and his nature too 
 kindly and generous to bear enmity or hatred 
 toward any one. His death, tragic almost, in the 
 midst of so much usefulness and kindness, seems 
 untimely and hard to bear. In his death the 
 poor and lowly have lost a kind friend, the 
 church and school a benefactor, every worthy 
 cause a supporter, and our village and people 
 one of their dearest and best citizens. Our loss 
 seems incalculable and irreparable.
 
 Htbene IDeteue Bull 
 
 WHILE ago Mr. Sackett, the accomplished 
 editor of the Gouverneur Tribune, 
 spoke of this village as the Athens 
 of northern New York. It was a 
 pretty compliment and pleased our people greatly. 
 It touched their pride, and, as there was 
 then some foundation for it (otherwise Mr. 
 Sackett would not have said it), we had a right 
 to feel not only a little elated, but actually 
 proud. We have since nursed the fondling with 
 much care, but, somehow, it doesn't seem to 
 thrive or prosper. Our orators, lecturers and 
 essayists every now and then take it up, and with 
 burning words and cultured periods strive to 
 fasten it on the public mind, and to implant it in 
 the buoyant spirit of our youth, but somehow, 
 do what we will, the sentiment is slowly dying 
 out. 
 
 Why is it? What is the matter? Surely there 
 is a cause nothing happens in this world with 
 out a cause. It has been my constant study for 
 over a year to solve this decadence. Our nobility, 
 our gentry, our scholars, poets and literati gen 
 erally have all been, and now are, engaged in
 
 150 Letters-Essays 
 
 the same worthy cause. Athens of old went 
 down, it is true, but only after centuries of great 
 splendor. We have been an Athens only about 
 three years. To decay and die in such infancy 
 is both a mortification and a shame. Mr. Sack- 
 ett has done all we can reasonably hope or ex 
 pect of him. Surely no one would have the brazen 
 effrontery to ask him to keep singing our praise. 
 
 Now, if we will, we can hold and maintain the 
 prestige and position which he gave us. If we 
 fail we alone will be to blame. 
 
 In looking about us for the cause I find we 
 have one great school, the munificent gift of a 
 most generous family, more than we had when 
 we were made an Athens. "We have since built 
 a great edifice in which to gather and worship, 
 and to teach peace and gentleness, in the name 
 of the Master. All the other churches we then 
 had are in peaceful and fruitful operation. All 
 our social, moral and aesthetic clubs and societies 
 are still adding polish and culture to an already 
 highly wrought and sensitive people. 
 
 So, it is plain that there has been no retrogres 
 sion, no decadence among our people in piety, in 
 scholarship or learning. Athens was great as a 
 seat of learning. So are we. Old Athens lacked 
 piety. We do not. We have added this grace 
 to learning. Accordingly we are really greater 
 and better than Athens of old, for no sane man 
 will claim for a minute that piety hurts learning 
 or harms a people of culture.
 
 Athens Versus Bull Dogs 151 
 
 And yet we are slowly dying in public estima 
 tion, at least as an Athens. Our neighbors, and 
 even our friends, now seldom call us by that proud 
 name. It is getting to be plain Potsdam as of 
 yore. To be sure, they are kind enough to leave 
 out one of the t's, but then there is no charm, no 
 significance, no glory in it such as springs spon 
 taneous with the bare utterance of the great 
 name Athens. 
 
 How we would all love to be universally and 
 by everyone called Athens! What elation it 
 would give us! What a stimulus it would be to 
 culture! 
 
 Mourning over this apathy and indifference on 
 the part of our friends and neighbors to so call 
 us, after having kindly given us the name, and 
 utterly failing to find any cause for it from local 
 conditions, I turned my attention to a study of the 
 decadence and fall of Athens of old, and having 
 found the reason, hasten to give it to the public. 
 Our societies, I am sure, will pardon me for 
 this, since such a discovery should, under the 
 rules, be first given to them for analysis and 
 emasculation. In my researches I visited several 
 great libraries in distant cities. In the Boston 
 Athenaeum I found, luckily, a work by a Greek 
 philosopher which has been but little read, as 
 there are but four copies of it known to be in 
 existence, and no other in this country. 
 
 I know, of course, as everyone does, that Noah 
 took a pair of bull dogs into the ark with him.
 
 152 Letters-Essays 
 
 Why he did I don't know and don't believe any 
 one else does. The only reason that can be given 
 is that he was commanded to do so. If that be 
 true, why he didn 't shove them out into the rag 
 ing sea when the ark got above the mountains 
 is a puzzler and has been to all peaceably in 
 clined people ever since. However, he was kind 
 enough to land them in such an out of the way 
 place that nothing is known of them from the 
 time the ark went into port until the year 176 
 B. C., and for this period of time we even now 
 should be grateful. According to this Greek 
 work, in that year a Celt wended his way across 
 Europe and finally reached Athens with a pair 
 of bull dogs at his heels. The following day he 
 opened a saloon, with a new drink, a sort of com 
 pound of what we now know as alcohol and beer. 
 The saloon took and the bull dogs bred. 
 
 In twenty-five years after his advent there were 
 three thousand one hundred and twenty saloons 
 in that small city, and seven thousand four hun 
 dred and fifty-two bull dogs. As one may readily 
 imagine, there was soon a new order of things in 
 Athens. The Acropolis, where for centuries the 
 scholars of all kinds, poets, orators, statesmen, 
 etc., had been wont to meet and confer for the 
 common weal and good, slowly died out in inter 
 est and attendance and was finally abandoned in 
 the year 152 B. C. The ruins of this great theater 
 of learning may still be seen by the tourist. 
 
 Brawls and fightings were all the rage. There
 
 Athens Versm Bull Dogs 153 
 
 were street fights galore for the common public, 
 fights in saloons for the next grade and in amphi 
 theaters built for the purpose for the gentry and 
 nobility. To own a dog that could kill another 
 in the fewest number of minutes was a great 
 honor, and the dog brought a fabulous price. 
 
 This writer, who is our authority, is not certain, 
 but is quite sure that several great public dog 
 fights lasting several days were held in the Acrop 
 olis after it was abandoned as a hall of learn 
 ing. His pictures of the battles, the fierce, savage 
 brutality of the dogs, the cries of the wounded 
 and dying curs, and the wild plaudits of the on 
 lookers made a spectacle which, to our want of 
 experience, is both sickening and disgusting, but, 
 no doubt, with a few years more of familiarity 
 with it we can enjoy it as they did. 
 
 They didn 't like it at first. Before the bull dog 
 came, Athens had several varieties of pet dogs, 
 gentle, tractable and peaceable, the chums and 
 playmates of her youth. The bull dogs made 
 short work of these, as they are now doing with 
 our own pet dogs. In the year 161 B. C. there 
 were only seven pet dogs left in the city and 
 these were saved only by great vigilance. 
 
 The youth of Athens, I am sorry to learn, when 
 they could not get bull dogs fighting one another, 
 would set them on to stray pet dogs, just to see 
 the fun. 
 
 Our youth, smart set, are doing the same thing 
 almost every day and yet there are many good
 
 15* Lertm fwtfj* 
 
 people who maintain, sincerely and honestly, that 
 we are born full of divinity come into the world 
 kind and good, and that all our cnssedness and 
 wickedness are acquired. When we read of the 
 heartless cruelty of the yonth of Athens and see 
 the same work by onr own boys, nineteen centu 
 ries later, we are tempted to say that we are born 
 devils, and that the gentleness and goodness we 
 exhibit in after life are acquired. 
 
 The bull dog that ruined Athens of old made 
 his appearance on Market street about two years 
 ago. His coming was, in every respect, very 
 sinritar to his advent there twenty centuries ago. 
 His descendants have multiplied until they are 
 already in practical control of the street. FigEt- 
 ing is of almost daily occurrence. When not 
 fighting among themselves, they are chasing. 
 taping and verily eating pet dogs. Quite a num 
 ber of these have been bitten, torn or nearly killed 
 by these brutes, and some are now being nursed 
 and tenderly cared for by their mistresses. 
 
 These hyenas of dogs stand in hallways and 
 along the street, waiting for some cruel, vicious 
 youth to set them on or for some playful cur in 
 his innocence to snarl at them, as dogs are wont 
 to do. Usually two bull dogs work together, no 
 matter how small and puny may be the pet dog. 
 In all the fights we have known, not once have 
 we witnessed any interference by the supposed 
 owner. He says, or apparently says, " Oh, Fll 
 risk my dog." Very soon, if not already, farmers
 
 Athens Versus Butt Dogs 155 
 
 will hesitate to come here to trade, as they did 
 in Athens of old, as their dogs are Hkely to be 
 pounced upon, lacerated and even killed. With 
 savage mien, with scarred, torn and bloody 
 heads, the very acme of ngliness, they are a 
 menace to peace and good order. 
 
 We all pay taxes, and for what? Is it not to 
 secure good order and protection to life and prop 
 erty! Most certainly it is. Then why are not 
 these dogs removed or kept nrazzled? Our case 
 is rapidly paralleling Athens of old. 
 
 At the rate we are going we will soon be able 
 to see onr end as did she. Onr schools, churches 
 and colleges may flourish for a time and stem 
 decadence and death, but they cannot arrest it, 
 the bull dog, unchecked, will triumph here as he 
 did there, in the end. 
 
 Is it any wonder, then, with our streets full of 
 bull dogs, that our friends refuse to longer speak 
 of us as Athens T They know that where bull dogs 
 prevail it is not and cannot be a real Athens. Cul 
 ture does not, cannot, and never did thrive among 
 bull dogs. One or the other must give way. 
 Which shall it be!
 
 Jubge Charles . {Tappan 
 
 TAPPAN was born in Addison, Vt, 
 April, 17, 1831. His father, Jacob Tap- 
 pan, moved to Essex county, New York, 
 in that year, and remained there as a 
 farmer till 1853, when he returned to Panton, Vt., 
 where he died. Mr. Tappan attended the dis 
 trict schools and also the Moriah Academy. In 
 1851 he entered the law office of John F. Havens, 
 at Moriah, sustaining himself during his studies 
 by teaching school. He also privately studied 
 with Edward M. Dewey, his friend and fellow 
 student, who was graduated from Middlebury 
 College. On the 4th day of July, 1853, he was 
 admitted to the bar, at a term of court held at 
 Plattsburg, N. Y. On his admission, he and his 
 friend, Dewey, entered into the law firm of 
 Dewey & Tappan, and came to Potsdam, where 
 they opened an office. In the following year the 
 Hon. William A. Dart was taken into the firm, 
 the style becoming Dart, Dewey & Tappan. In 
 1856 Mr. Dewey withdrew from the firn\ going 
 to Chicago for the practice of law, where he died 
 October 18, 1869. In 1861 Mr. Dart received an 
 appointment from President Lincoln as a district
 
 JUDGE CIIAHLES O. TATI'AX
 
 Judge Charles 0. Tappan 157 
 
 attorney for the northern district of New York, 
 and he made Mr. Tappan his assistant. In 
 1869 Mr. Dart received the appointment of 
 United States Consul-General to Canada, when 
 the Hon. George Z. Erwin associated himself 
 with Mr. Tappan, under the firm name of Tappan 
 & Erwin. This firm continued until January 1, 
 1878, when Mr. Tappan became a Supreme Court 
 Justice. 
 
 For m'any years Mr. Tappan was a member of 
 the board of trustees of the St. Lawrence Acad 
 emy, and took a most active and zealous part in 
 the work of securing the location of the State 
 Normal School in Potsdam village. I doubt if 
 any one did more, or possibly as much, as he, to 
 bring about its location at Potsdam, after the 
 movement had been inaugurated. Its location 
 here was bitterly opposed, and but for his ef 
 forts and that of some others it would have been 
 defeated. He made arguments in 1866 before the 
 board of supervisors and meetings of the tax 
 payers of Potsdam, and as an attorney drew 
 Chapter 6 of the laws of 1867, and defeated the 
 litigation which sought to prevent the location 
 of the school at Potsdam. When the struggle 
 was finally decided in favor of Potsdam he be 
 came one of the commission to superintend its 
 construction and was elected its secretary. He 
 was a member of the first local board and was 
 its isecretary until 1878. He was a leader in the 
 movement to organize the E. V. and St. E. V.
 
 158 Letters-Essays 
 
 Agricultural Society in 1870, and was its presi 
 dent for three years. On the organization of the 
 bar association -of the county in March, 1876, he 
 became its president and held the position till his 
 death. In 1886 he was the leader in the move 
 ment to put in a system of sewers and drains in 
 the village of Potsdam (see article on Sewers 
 and Drains). In the fall of 1871 Mr. Tappan 
 was elected county judge for a term of six years, 
 and in 1877 supreme court judge, taking his seat 
 on the bench January 1, 1878, where he served, 
 and very creditably, the full term of fourteen 
 years. 
 
 He assisted in the organization and construc 
 tion of the Clarkson Memorial School of Tech 
 nology, and on December 18, 1894, was elected 
 president of the provisional board of trustees, 
 which position he held till his death. 
 
 Mr. Tappan stood fully six feet in height, 
 weighed over two hundred pounds, and was a 
 strong, able-bodied man. He was modest and re 
 tiring by nature, and the very soul of honor, 
 probity and upright manliness. In these quali 
 ties I think he certainly equalled any man I ever 
 knew, either in business or professional life. His 
 honesty was a part of his very being. He could 
 not, and would not, do a wrongful act for him 
 self nor for a client. On one occasion he was 
 sought by a client to do as a lawyer a wrongful 
 act, when he became furious, threatening the 
 man with bodily harm. As a lawyer he espoused
 
 Judge Charles 0. Tappan 159 
 
 his client's cause and no lawyer ever labored 
 more assiduously and unsparingly in a client's 
 behalf. 
 
 Believing he was in the right, he became in 
 domitable, showing almost bull dog qualities, and 
 yet he was one of the most gentle and tender 
 hearted men that I have ever known. On telling 
 him a sad and pitiful story, of some great dis 
 tress or misfortune, the tears would trickle down 
 his cheeks like that of a woman. He was a thor 
 oughly honest man, and was grieved and pained 
 when any he knew were shown to be dishonest or 
 tricky or culpable. I loved him for his great and 
 sterling qualities, both of head and heart, and I 
 gladly write these feeble lines as my tribute to his 
 memory. 
 
 The writer entered his office, as a student, in 
 1871, and remained with him the greater part of 
 the time for three years, sitting opposite to him 
 when he was not in his library. He was the 
 hardest working man, while a lawyer, that I ever 
 knew in any walk or sphere of life, and I am told 
 that he kept this up during his fourteen years 
 as Judge. There was no fooling or chit-chat 
 from the moment he entered his office in the 
 morning till he left it late in the evening. He 
 worked with great earnestness and deep inten 
 sity. He poured his very soul into whatever he 
 undertook, be it study, a law trial or a municipal 
 movement or question. Earnestness, honesty and 
 indomitable energy were his great characteris-
 
 160 Letters-Essays 
 
 tics. His intense study impressed its work in 
 later years upon his face, giving him the polished 
 and refined look of the student. He despised de 
 ceit and would violently assail those committing 
 wrongs, especially if holding positions of trust 
 and confidence. In his eyes the betrayal of a 
 duty or a trust was a crime. 
 
 When his term of judgeship was about to ex 
 pire he earnestly desired a re-election. This was, 
 of course, very natural. Having been on the 
 bench for fourteen years, his clientage had all 
 gone to others, and it would require some time, 
 with great effort, to recover it. He was as 
 sured, as I am credibly informed, by the poli 
 ticians of his judicial district, that he would 
 have no trouble in a renomination. 
 
 As to the truth of this I cannot speak, though 
 early in the canvas it was pretty generally so 
 understood. If it was true then they changed 
 their minds since in a prolonged convention, even 
 adjourned to another locality in the district, they 
 stubbornly refused their support. During all the 
 contest not a charge of any kind, nor an insinua 
 tion or even a whisper was heard or uttered cast 
 ing a suspicion upon his capability, integrity or 
 character. These stood out unquestioned and un 
 assailable. No, it was not a question of character 
 or ability, but purely one of politics, and in the 
 struggle, as is often the case when politics enter, 
 a just judge went down. His life as a man, as 
 a citizen and as a judge bespoke for him a re-
 
 Judge Charles 0. Tappan, 161 
 
 nomination. He was in every way worthy of it, 
 entitled to it and should have had it. 
 
 On his defeat he resumed the practice of law 
 alone, January 1, 1892, and continued it quite 
 successfully till the time of his death. 
 
 He was a friend 'of every just cause and 
 worthy movement, and was a gentle and loving 
 husband and parent. He worked faithfully and 
 hard till near the very close. And as the end 
 crept upon him he was not sick. He had no dis 
 ease. He did not die. Being weary from un 
 ceasing toil, the mechanism of his head and body 
 simply stopped, when, using his " burthen for a 
 pillow," he fell asleep tired out from doing the 
 best that was in him. Noble man. His was a 
 brave spirit. 
 
 He died August 20, 1895, leaving a widow, 
 Sarah A., daughter of Dr. Henry Hewitt, and four 
 children.
 
 Ibon. Erasmus 2). Brooks 
 
 T his home on Elm street, November 13, 
 1897, at 11 p. m., Mr. Brooks fell into 
 that slumber which we call death. The 
 time of his going was quite in keeping 
 with his matured years. 
 
 He died as the oak dieth, rounded and perfected 
 with a full life, complete in all its parts, and 
 with all its labors, duties and burdens faithfully 
 and honorably borne. 
 
 He was a son of Dr. Hosea Brooks and Phoebe 
 Post and was born March 6, 1818, at Shoreham, 
 Vt. His parents came into these parts in 1819 
 and settled in Hopkinton, about a mile west of 
 Hopkinton village and in or near the present 
 residence of Loren Smith. Here they remained 
 for five years, when they removed to the town 
 of Stockholm. After a sojourn there of three 
 and one-half years they removed to the village 
 of Parishville. At this place Mr. Brooks, the 
 elder, in addition to his practice as a physician, 
 kept a general country store in which the son as 
 sisted, more or less, as clerk. He attended school 
 at the old St. Lawrence Academy and in Middle- 
 bury college, where he only completed the soph 
 omore year.
 
 HON. ERASMUS D. BROOKS
 
 Hon. Erasmus D. Brooks 163 
 
 In 1839, yet a minor, he opened a general store 
 on his own account, but owing to his minority, 
 had to do business for a time in his father's 
 name. In 1857 he was elected member of the 
 Assembly for the third district of this county. 
 In 1858 he removed to the village of Potsdam, 
 buying the place where he has since resided of 
 A. M. Smith for $2,500. 
 
 In 1862, when the Civil war had gotten under 
 full sway, Mr. Brooks received the appointment 
 from President Lincoln of collector of internal 
 revenue for the nineteenth congressional dis 
 trict, which office he held for over thirteen years, 
 resigning to take effect January 1, 1876. 
 
 In 1866 he went into the dry goods business 
 with H. M. Story, the firm name being Brooks 
 & Story, which continued for about three years, 
 when he sold out to Mr. Story. 
 
 In 1870, in conjunction with Dr. Thatcher and 
 Mr. J. W. Dayton, the present block of three 
 stores on the west side of Market street was built, 
 Mr. Brooks owning the northerly one. In the 
 fall of that year he opened a dry goods store 
 and then, or soon afterwards, he associated 
 Charles B. Partridge and E. D. Brooks, Jr., with 
 him, the firm name being Brooks, Patridge & 
 Company. This firm continued for some years, 
 when he became sole proprietor by purchase. In 
 December, 1891, wishing to be freed from busi 
 ness cares, he sold to Glover & Orne. 
 
 He held the office of supervisor of the town
 
 164 Letters-Essays 
 
 of Parishville for three or four years from 1848, 
 and for the town of Potsdam for the years 1878, 
 '79, '80 and '81. 
 
 He was a justice of the peace, trustee of the 
 village for several years and also one of the 
 building committee of the State Normal School. 
 
 On December 28, 1895, Mr. Brooks slipped and 
 fell on an icy walk in front of Mr. Raymond's, 
 breaking the socket bone of the hip. From this 
 he was confined to his bed for some months. 
 Having a good constitution he recovered suf 
 ficiently to get about the house with a crutch. 
 
 On taking a ride about the village a few days 
 before his death he took a little cold, which rap 
 idly carried him away. 
 
 In 1841 Mr. Brooks married Permelia Sanford 
 of Hopkinton. Of this union six children were 
 born, but one of whom, Mrs. William A. Landers, 
 widow, is now living. She, with her daughter, 
 Miss Margaret Landers, a lovely girl in her teens, 
 are alone left to mourn a father's going. They 
 have the sympathy of one and all. 
 
 Mrs. Brooks was a most estimable lady, pos 
 sessing many of the graces and traits of noble 
 womanhood. She died October 16, 1886, and 
 their three sons, to wit, Erasmus, Jr., October 10, 
 1885; William H., January 12, 1887, and Henry 
 Gurley Brooks, October 20, 1891, the latter leav 
 ing a widow, Cynthia Everett Brooks. 
 
 A gleam of the man in after life is shown by 
 the boy of twenty, taking the store which his
 
 Eon. Erasmus D. Brooks 165 
 
 father had made of only doubtful thrift and at 
 once making it a decided success. In the twenty 
 years that he was a merchant at Parishville, not 
 withstanding it was but a hamlet and there were 
 other merchants to divide the trade, he made 
 what would even now be called a competence. In 
 those times the farmers were poor and had but 
 little or no money. Almost all they hoped to 
 get was enough to pay their taxes. Pretty much 
 all the dealing was in barter. The merchant took 
 beef, pork, grain, etc., in exchange for goods. 
 These he must in some way convert into cash or 
 more goods; else his capital would soon consist 
 alone of this class of property. Mr. Brooks soon 
 found a market for it all, and he was ready to 
 trade with every one and with all, making a mar 
 gin both ways. For a time about the only 
 product which would bring cash was black salts. 
 Asheries were scattered all through the country. 
 
 Nearly every one was clearing land and there 
 fore had ashes to sell, many of them even falling 
 timber for that purpose. Mr. Brooks, besides 
 dealing in black salts, conducted an ashery, 
 whkh further extended his field as a merchant. 
 
 In his first years as a merchant he went to 
 market once and sometimes twice a year by stage 
 over a plank road to Utica, by packet boat on 
 canal from there to Albany, and thence by boat 
 to New York City. 
 
 While in Parishville he was the leader of the 
 Whig forces. His town was one of the few
 
 166 Letters-Essays 
 
 towns of that faith in the county and it was only 
 so through his persistent and untiring labor. 
 The methods then often resorted to in carrying 
 primaries and elections would hardly be tolerated 
 today. 
 
 After coming to this village he took high rank 
 as a justice of the peace. Had he studied for 
 the law there can be no question but that he 
 would have reached high eminence as a lawyer 
 and jurist. Indeed, I do think he possessed more 
 native ability, sagacity, good sense and good 
 judgment than almost any man I ever knew. He 
 stood fully six feet, carried himself well and had 
 a strong, intellectual face. 
 
 While collector of internal revenue, and 
 especially during the war, a vast amount of 
 money passed through his hands. The commuta 
 tion money alone was enormous. His district 
 comprised St. Lawrence and Franklin Counties. 
 An incident in his service as collector shows the 
 system, accuracy and methodical way with which 
 he did business better than anything I can say. 
 For some time after his resignation took effect 
 the Treasury department at "Washington kept 
 sending him a formal demand at the close of 
 each quarter for the payment of one cent to bal 
 ance his account as collector for thirteen years. 
 To this request Mr. Brooks would as often de 
 cline, saying to the department that his account 
 was correct. After many demands and refusals 
 had passed between them the department sent
 
 Hon. Erazmu* D. Brooks 167 
 
 him a formal apology, stating that they had 
 found the error, how it arose and a receipt and 
 discharge in fnlL 
 
 From the organization of the republican party 
 he was one of its most stalwart supporters and 
 adherents. His fealty to that party and its 
 principles, coupled with his positive nature and 
 strong individuality, made him for years one of 
 its most influential members. 
 
 Any democrat who provoked him to a discus 
 sion was sure to retire, surprised, chagrined, a 
 badly worsted combatant. His powers of sar 
 casm and invective when once fully aroused, as 
 they only were over politics, excelled those of 
 any man in my remembrance. He had but few 
 of these combats during his last years, as no one 
 who knew him had the temerity to attack him or 
 his party. 
 
 His memory of men and women, names, ages, 
 dates, etc., was most remarkable. He somehow 
 kept track of nearly everyone he ever knew. 
 Every now and then he would meet someone he 
 had not seen for years and in the conversa 
 tion that would follow would show equal or 
 greater familiarity with the incidents of the 
 party's boyhood and family than he himself knew. 
 He was at all times and in all ways a force, a 
 power. He possessed that subtle quality which 
 we may call prescience, given only to the few, 
 which made him a strong character, a leader. He 
 had and held the respect and esteem of all who
 
 168 Letters-Essays 
 
 knew him. He lived a sober, manly life. Whether 
 we are now raising men of his stamp in these 
 times of ease and comfort is a matter of some 
 doubt. 
 
 With his going the name of his family disap 
 peared.
 
 JEramination of "peel 
 
 " 
 
 ' WILLEY universally called Peel Wil- 
 ley, was fully six feet in height, a strong, 
 heavy, muscular man with a firm, reso 
 lute face, a shoemaker by trade, and not 
 at all lacking in cheek or courage. He seemed to 
 like litigation or, at least, not to shun it. 
 
 On one occasion he was up before me as Ref 
 eree on a Judge's order. This is generally sup 
 posed to be a pretty harsh proceeding, since the 
 poor debtor has to sit and be quizzed to all 
 lengths as to his property. Sometimes he is by 
 some lawyers browbeaten and abused. At this 
 time John G. Mclntyre was the attorney. Though 
 a hard job, I rather courted the inquiry to see 
 how the struggle or battle would come out, for 
 such I knew it would be. Mr. Mclntyre was an 
 intelligent man, firm, resolute, determined, and 
 not at all lacking in moral or physical courage. 
 We took our seats at the table, Mr. Mclntyre 
 facing Mr. Willey and myself. Mr. Willey was 
 sworn to tell the truth, the whole truth, etc. I 
 can give only samples of what took place. Could 
 it have been taken down it would easily make a 
 newspaper page, and most spicy reading at that.
 
 170 Letters-Essays 
 
 Mr. Willey at once filled a cob pipe and after 
 lighting many matches, talking all the while, got 
 the pipe going, and placing his big feet across 
 one another up on the table began about like this : 
 
 " Now, Mr. Mclntyre, I want you to be kind 
 and gentle with me today. You have got the 
 reputation of being harsh and cruel with poor 
 debtors and even of tearing them all to pieces. 
 Now for God's sake be easy with me. I haven't 
 slept much of any since this order was served on 
 me. I am nervous and all worn out, dreading this 
 examination. See how pale I am and how my 
 hands tremble (holding them up shaking percep 
 tibly). I am so poor I had to get up early and 
 walk all the way to Potsdam without any break 
 fast. Now take pity on me or at least be as easy 
 as you can." 
 
 " Take your feet down and stop your talk," 
 sternly spoke Mr. Mclntyre. 
 
 " There you go, just as I expected. Why can't 
 you speak mildly and calmly to me ? If you knew 
 how it jarred on my nerves you wouldn't speak 
 so harshly. I am almost dead, and yet you don't 
 seem to have any pity." 
 
 " Take your feet off the table. Do you hear 
 what I tell you? " 
 
 * ' Yes, I do, and I could if you had spoken in a 
 whisper. I ain't deaf and I wish you wouldn't 
 speak so harshly. It hurts me. I put my feet up 
 there to take the blood from my head, which is 
 almost bursting."
 
 Examination of " Peel " Willey 171 
 
 Mr. Mclntyre becoming somewhat nettled, said 
 with a little warmth: " Mr. Keferee, will you 
 please direct him to take his feet down and make 
 a note of the request in your minutes? " It was 
 done. 
 
 " Now, I don't see what hurt those feet can do 
 up there. It rests me and if you knew how much 
 better I can think you wouldn't ask me to take 
 them down. You are a good deal smarter than 
 I and besides you have got me down. Why can't 
 you let me take a little comfort? " 
 
 " Aren't you going to take your feet down? " 
 again Mr. Mclntyre sternly asked, partly rising 
 as if to remove them himself. 
 
 " See here, Mr. Mclntyre, just keep your seat. 
 Don't get excited. You better stay on your side 
 of the table. I know some of my rights. You lay 
 a hand on me and I'll tie a knot in you. If you 
 would ask me pleasantly to take them down I 
 think I would do it, but you can't order me to 
 do it." 
 
 Accordingly Mr. Mclntyre made a mild request 
 that he take them down, which he did, adding 
 that he would like him to lay aside his pipe. 
 
 11 What next will you ask? I am smoking to 
 settle my nerves and to stimulate my brain for 
 this examination. I am all fagged out. I can't 
 think or answer your questions if I don't smoke. 
 Don't you want me to tell the truth? " 
 
 " Yes, I certainly do." 
 
 " Well, then, let me smoke."
 
 172 Letters-Essays 
 
 1 i I will if you will stop talking and just answer 
 my questions/' 
 
 After an hour or so of this kind of play, for 
 such it was, we got to work. Mr. Mclntyre asked 
 him to name all the property he had at the time 
 the debt in question was created. 
 
 " Well, now, I don't know as I can do that. 
 When was the debt made?" He was told. 
 Mumbling to himself, " Two years ago, what did 
 I have. Never had much and some of the time 
 not anything." 
 
 After cogitating with his head in his hands for 
 some time trying to recall the past, with Mcln 
 tyre prodding him to answer, he replied: 
 
 " Mr. Mclntyre, I can't tell just what I had at 
 that particular time. It's too far back for my 
 tired brain." 
 
 " Did you not have a bay gelding horse and a 
 top carriage? " 
 
 " Well, I did, back in there somewhere, but I 
 can't just tell when." 
 
 " What became of the horse and carriage? " 
 
 " Let me see. Don't put this down, Mr. Eef- 
 eree, I've got to think. I made so many deals 
 I can't keep track of them. I am not going to 
 tell anything till I know I have got it right, and 
 I am not going to be hurried about it, either. I 
 can't think any faster than I can. I propose to 
 tell it just as it was if it takes all day." 
 
 And it did. When it came night we were all 
 tired of the whole performance, unless it was Mr.
 
 Examination of " Peel " Willey 173 
 
 Willey, and not much wiser than when we began. 
 He seemed to be in as good shape as when we 
 commenced. Nothing had been found and pos 
 sibly there was nothing to be found. The case 
 was adjourned, but I was never called on the ad 
 journment day. It taught me that Judge's orders 
 are not such a terrible engine after all if one has 
 the proper nerve.
 
 Ibon* John <5* 
 
 |R. McINTYEE was born December 1st, 
 1839, in the town of Massena, N. Y. His 
 father, Angus A. Mclntyre, was a native 
 of Scotland. He came to this country 
 about 1825. The early life of Mr. Mclntyre was 
 spent with his parents on the farm in Massena, 
 where he was born. He was educated in the dis 
 trict schools of his town, in the St. Lawrence 
 Academy at Potsdam, from which he was gradu 
 ated in 1861. He then entered Middlebury Col 
 lege, from which he was graduated in 1865, re 
 ceiving the degrees of A. B. and A. M. After 
 graduating, he was principal of the academy at 
 Northfield, Vt., for one year, when he returned 
 to Potsdam as professor of mathematics in the 
 old St. Lawrence Academy, for a little over a 
 year, studying law during that time in the office 
 of Judge Henry L. Knowles. On being admitted 
 to the bar, in 1867, he entered into partnership 
 with Hon. Abraham X. Parker, under the firm 
 name of Parker & Mclntyre. This firm did quite 
 an extensive law business until 1881, when it was 
 dissolved, owing to the election of Mr. Parker as 
 a member of congress. After the dissolution of
 
 HON. JOHN G. MoINTYRE
 
 Hon. John G. Mclntyre 175 
 
 the firm, Mr. Mclntyre continued the practice of 
 law alone, till his death. 
 
 As a lawyer he was quite quick to see the main 
 point of the case, and fought laboriously, stub 
 bornly and quite successfully. 
 
 In court he was a most tenacious fighter, and 
 all the lawyers the country about feared if they 
 did not dread to meet him in justice court. They 
 knew, if they had him for opposing counsel, they 
 had a great battle before them. He was, if oc 
 casion required, quite severe, and even caustic, 
 as an attorney. In the higher courts he did not 
 exhibit this quality to any such extent as he did 
 in the lower courts. In the latter I think he was 
 the most successful of any practicing in his time 
 unless, perhaps, I except John E. Brinckerhoof. 
 
 He was not what would be called an orator or 
 polished speaker. He cared not for the arts of 
 the orator, tone of voice, poise of person, 
 imagery or rounded periods. He saw the main 
 point and never lost it. He used speech to win 
 his case or his cause. That was ever his pur 
 pose, and to it he gave all his attention, energy, 
 fearlessness and combative force. People liked 
 to hear him because there was no mistaking his 
 views, and because he was so brave and valiant. 
 
 Another characteristic, probably as com 
 mendable as any, was the fact that he never 
 charged a client an excessive or an exorbitant 
 fee for his services. He was contented with 
 reasonable pay for what he did, nor did he ever
 
 176 Letters-Essays 
 
 take advantage of opportunity to get more, so 
 far as I ever heard. 
 
 He was a trustee of the village, and in 1891 
 its president. He was also trustee and secre 
 tary of the State Normal School Board, which 
 position he held till the time of his death, March 
 13, 1899. On the organization of the Public 
 Beading Eoom in 1887 he was one of its zealous 
 friends and a little later one of its trustees and 
 treasurer. He was also secretary of the Fair 
 Society, trustee of school district No. 8, and 
 active in the construction of its fine building. 
 
 In 1894 he became one of the seven original 
 members of the board of trustees of the Clark- 
 son Memorial School of Technology, and the first 
 president of the board. None took a greater in 
 terest in the establishment of this school. 
 
 He was duly elected a member of the Constitu 
 tional Convention, which sat in 1894, serving on 
 the committees on Education and Railroads with 
 ability. 
 
 In 1895 he was elected trustee of Middlebury 
 College. He held the position of vestryman of 
 the Episcopal Church at Potsdam for some years 
 and at the time of his death. 
 
 In all municipal matters he took an active part, 
 either for or against every measure. He was a 
 man of most decided convictions and had the 
 courage to express and maintain them on any and 
 every occasion. The friends of any movement 
 would seek his aid and assistance, well knowing
 
 Hon. John G. Nclntyre 177 
 
 that if he was against them he would give them 
 much trouble. But their seeking and their 
 pleading made no impression upon him, if his 
 judgment told him that their cause should not 
 prevail. Over municipal matters and measures 
 he would fight by speech as earnestly and ve 
 hemently as he would in the trial of a suit, and 
 somehow, when he formed his opinion in a suit 
 at law, or on a public measure, he could not see, 
 feel or believe that his opponent had any right 
 or justice on his side. He seemed both deaf and 
 blind to anything but his client 's cause, and they 
 usually got what they asked, or nearly so. He 
 made no compromises or adjustments that did not 
 bring his client all, or practically all, he claimed. 
 
 Mr. Mclntyre was fully six feet in height, 
 rather slim of build, straight as an arrow, and 
 carried himself with ease and confidence. Though 
 not expensively dressed, he was always tidy, tasty 
 and cleanly in his appearance. He was not ex 
 uberant in his social qualities and yet sufficiently 
 so to be a pleasing and entertaining companion. 
 His office was always in a most cleanly condition, 
 all of his papers kept in place, and in a methodical 
 way. He wasted none of his time in lounging on 
 the street or in other places. He gave his en 
 tire time to his office and its work, and to his 
 home and gardens. 
 
 He was an upright man, a most loyal advocate, 
 a good citizen, a kind neighbor, and a most de 
 voted and loving husband. He was very ab-
 
 178 Letters-Essays 
 
 stemious in his living, clean in all his habits, and 
 led a most exemplary life. He gave his morn 
 ings and his evenings to his lawn, flowers, of 
 which he was fond, and to his garden, all of 
 which were ever in excellent shape and con 
 dition. 
 
 No home, here or anywhere had a sweeter or 
 more wholesome atmosphere in or about it. 
 
 He observed and followed all the laws of diet 
 and health, and it was thought by his friends 
 that he would certainly live to a ripe old age. In 
 the fall of 1898 he became more or less ill, al 
 though attending to his office duties all the time. 
 
 Early in the winter of 1899, thinking it would 
 benefit him, he and his wife went to California to 
 spend a few months. On reaching Long Beach 
 he took cold, when spinal meningitis soon de 
 veloped and took him suddenly away. His going 
 was a real loss to the community, to every 
 worthy cause, and a particularly sad and crush 
 ing blow to his cherished and devoted compan 
 ion. His widow, whom he married in 1869, Ame 
 lia M., daughter of the late L. H. Dunton of 
 Stockholm, survives him.
 
 . jfaster 
 
 | HE final summons that must come to all, 
 came to Miss Mary P. Foster, daughter 
 of the late Edward W. Foster, December 
 27, 1899, at her home on Elm street, 
 where she had long resided. It did not come sud 
 denly, but gently and softly, as if regretful to call 
 her hence. Not that her life was incomplete or 
 she not ready to go, since, if we measure life by 
 its fullness, by its richness in act and deed, and 
 surely we may, the angel of peace could call no 
 one with greater right. And though this may 
 be, we always mourn and are almost comfortless 
 in our grief at the departure of one we love. We 
 would stay the call, postpone the hour, so strong 
 are human ties and so deep human affections, 
 though we feel and almost know that it is God's 
 act and that our friend is to enter into eternal 
 joy. It must be right that this is so or it would 
 not be. We cannot fathom the mysteries of life; 
 they are hidden from us, and this, too, is well 
 or it would not be. If we could, there would 
 be no longing, no yearning, no heart burning. 
 We would know it all as we do a mathematical 
 problem and life would be void of much of its 
 tenderness and sweetness.
 
 180 Letters-Essays 
 
 We live in the fantasies, the beauties and the 
 pleasures of a dream, a picture that we paint 
 with emotions, affections and love. It is not a 
 copy, as no one in all the ages has been per 
 mitted to see the original. Each paints this pic 
 ture largely for himself, since its coloring and 
 its hues are the work of our own dreaming. 
 The picture which she of whom I speak had 
 painted was one of great beauty and splendor and 
 it was her constant support and comfort through 
 life. She could not build otherwise, since, by a 
 law that is universal, grapes do not grow on 
 thistles, nor do good thoughts or deeds spring 
 from coarse or impure natures. She was born 
 kind and good. Her nature was as sweet and 
 gentle as a summer zephyr. 
 
 In illness and in health the same placid spirit 
 encircled her, and sweetened and brightened all 
 who came within its influence. There was no bit 
 terness, no jealousy, no selfishness in her nature. 
 Her heart was warm and kind and generous 
 towards all. She cared little for the frivolities, 
 vanities or dazzling splendor of high social life; 
 her heart was always with the poor and lowly. 
 For years she had grown and gathered flowers, 
 collected magazines and periodicals from gen 
 erous and kindly neighbors, boxed and shipped 
 them to hospitals and soldiers' homes. It was 
 not much in dollars, perhaps, but who can meas 
 ure the joy and gladness which she gave these 
 poor children of sickness, misery and pain. To
 
 Mary P. Foster 181 
 
 be remembered, to feel that some one cares for 
 you sufficiently to send you a rose when sick and 
 friendless, awakens emotions and thrills the soul 
 beyond any measure of value. Nor did she 
 neglect or overlook the poor and unfortunate in 
 her home vicinity. To these she was ministering 
 and giving to the extent of her means. Her life 
 was one of charity and there is no sweeter or 
 nobler life than this. It is the greatest of hu 
 man virtues. Without it we are cold, sordid and 
 selfish. She made none and, therefore, had no ene 
 mies. She could not. Her nature was too gen 
 erous, too charitable and loving. All who knew 
 her loved her. Hers was a gentle and sweet 
 spirit.
 
 En utino Ifn Ganaba 
 
 ECEIVTNG recently a kind invitation to 
 accompany Dr. James S. McKay and 
 Dr. Reynold M. Kirby, with some Cana 
 dian friends, on a fishing trip to the in 
 terior of Canada, and not knowing very much of 
 that country, and being assured that it would do 
 me worlds of good, I packed up at once and we 
 started the next morning, July 20, 1900, reach 
 ing Kazubazua, some fifty miles north of Ottawa, 
 that evening. With such an escort I was the 
 more readily induced to accept, since with a 
 physician and a minister in the party, both 
 physical and spiritual needs and ailments could 
 and would be cured, or at least attended to on 
 the spot. It is not often that a party of this kind 
 is so well fortified and equipped, but, from my ex 
 perience, I am not so certain but that they all 
 should be. In case -a party cannot get or take 
 both I am further in grave doubt as to which is 
 the more essential. Both are certainly need 
 ful. Camp life, as those who 'have been in the 
 woods know, brings out the good qualities there 
 
 "This article appeared in The Courier and Freeman as 
 three letters and is Riven here in that form.
 
 An Outing In Canada 183 
 
 are in you and, I am constrained to say, all the 
 little ones. The natural man, what you really 
 are, stands out here and you can't hide or en 
 cumber it as you can at home with the frills, 
 prestige, pomp and circumstance of cultivated 
 life. 
 
 This was my second experience camping in the 
 woods. Twenty-three years ago (August, 1877), 
 George Z. Erwin, John G. Mclntyre, George L. 
 Eastman, Theo. H. Swift, Dr. Henry M. Cox and 
 myself camped for a week at the foot of Moose- 
 head on the Eacket. That party, as you see, 
 had a doctor only, no minister, and I have felt 
 all these years that there was something want 
 ing, something we lacked or, perhaps, I should 
 say needed, but could never quite determine what 
 till this late trip. 
 
 And now, as I write these lines, I am reminded 
 that just one-half of that party has fallen into 
 that wakeless and dreamless sleep which awaits 
 us all. *The other half, too, has crossed the sum 
 mit and can faintly see the bewitching and flick 
 ering twilight at the foot of the slope, through 
 and beyond which our comrades have gone. But 
 I am digressing. A homily on death is hardly 
 appropriate in an article of this kind, and I trust 
 my readers will pardon me for what I have said. 
 Come to write their names, I could not help it. 
 
 *Dr Cox died April 24, 1904, leaving of the party, only 
 Judge Swift and the writer.
 
 184 Letters-Essays 
 
 Let us get back to Ottawa and take the train. 
 I will try to speak of the city on our return. The 
 road crosses the Ottawa Eiver just above the falls, 
 and runs due north sixty miles, and most of the 
 way along the banks of the Gatineau Eiver, a very 
 considerable stream indeed. At the present time 
 I would judge there is ten times the amount of 
 water flowing in it that there is in the Racket. 
 There are heavy waterfalls all along its course, 
 I am told. We saw three entirely unused, the 
 first of which is only seven miles above Ottawa. 
 Why it is not developed is more than I can see, 
 unless it be that they have so much power at Ot 
 tawa that no one thinks of going elsewhere. The 
 soil for thirty miles up the road, to my surprise, 
 is a rich, heavy clay. What we saw did not look 
 as if it was well farmed, or the people very pros 
 perous. The buildings, for the most part, are 
 rather poor and the farms seem to be patches of 
 tilled soil here and there in the bushes and woods. 
 Back from the river, I was told, there were some 
 good farms. I see no reason why there should 
 not be with such a soil. The timber is all a sec 
 ond growth pine or a bush growth. Very large 
 pine stumps may be seen everywhere. When in 
 its native state it must have been a heavily pine- 
 timbered country. 
 
 As we approach Kazubazua our train destina 
 tion, the soil changes from clay to sand. At this 
 point there is a mighty sand plain, with medium 
 mountains surrounding, excepting on the south,
 
 An Outing In Canada 185 
 
 covered with low bushes, and dead, barkless and 
 limbless standing pine everywhere, as sentinels 
 of better days, defying the axe, fire and even time 
 itself. Portions of this plain are overrun by fire 
 every year, thus keeping it in its present deso 
 late state. Huckleberries are everywhere over it 
 and picked and shipped in large quantities. 
 
 Beaching Kazubazua station, we take stage for 
 the village, if such it may be called, two miles 
 distant, where we put up for the night. What a 
 name! But it fits the village. Pronounce it and 
 you may have lockjaw. It is 'an Indian name 
 and means " water running underground," as a 
 smart brook here does in good shape, appearing 
 again some distance below. 
 
 Being a little delayed, the two doctors rigged 
 up and went trout fishing in this brook the next 
 morning, but with rather poor luck, due, they 
 maintained, to the fact that the fish had gone 
 underground, to get out of the sun. While they 
 were fishing I rambled about, getting into a saw 
 mill, grist mill and carding mill all attached. The 
 latter was in the rear and I came near missing 
 it, which would have been a great misfortune, as 
 I there learned the true cause of the Boer war. 
 Seeing a fine, pleasant faced, elderly man attend 
 ing the machine, probably a Presbyterian, I 
 walked in and was greeted cordially. We at once 
 got into a pleasant conversation, which I led 
 along to the Boer war. At this his face lighted 
 up, showing some spirit, similar to that of some
 
 186 Letters-Essays 
 
 of our home Canadians, and so I saw it was best 
 to go a little slow. I did not assert anything, 
 simply putting everything in the form of an in 
 quiry. " Then you think," I inquired, " that 
 the British are in the right in their war on the 
 Boers, that their cause is just? " Leaving his 
 machine and coming towards me, he remarked 
 with some warmth: " Why, of course I do. I 
 know they are in the right. Don 't you think so ? " 
 " Well," meekly answering, " I don't know as 
 I do know it. Very likely we of the States are 
 not so well informed as to the causes that brought 
 on the war as you are. I wish you would tell me 
 what the Boers did, what the real cause of the 
 war was." To this he replied with some feeling 
 and great sincerity: " I'll tell you what they did. 
 They treated our people over there shamefully, 
 like dogs. When it was rainy and muddy, those 
 Boers would get on the sidewalks and push and 
 drive our people off, making them walk in the 
 roadway in the mud. What do you think of that? 
 Would you stand it or anyone else? I guess not." 
 " Well," I replied, " that was pretty mean. I 
 never heard of it," " No," he broke in rather 
 disdainfully, " probably your papers would not 
 print it." 
 
 Thus, in a little carding mill, away back in 
 Canada, accidentally as it were, I learned the 
 real, true cause of that great struggle of the 
 British empire to dominate South Africa. This 
 alone was surely worth all the time and expense
 
 An Outing In Canada, 187 
 
 of the trip and more, too, and I hasten to give it 
 to the world. I doubt if I should have written 
 this article but to divulge this great piece of in 
 formation. Who can criticise the British after 
 reading this? 
 
 There are some mica mines in the hills about 
 Kazubazua and, of course, considerable prospect 
 ing. One mine has been worked for ten years or 
 so and has proved very valuable. On exploring, 
 however, the most of them prove worthless. I 
 was shown a piece about eight by ten inches, 
 three-quarters of an inch thick, which, they said, 
 was worth nine dollars, and would be worth more 
 but for a crack in it. 
 
 The doctors, after wearying of fishing in the 
 creek, and they did not till patience had ceased 
 to be a virtue, came back to the store, and we 
 began buying supplies for our trip into camp. 
 I was worried, I can tell you. I supposed till then 
 there would be a hotel we could lodge in. They 
 had told me nothing as to accommodations. My 
 first impulse was to go with a mica mine pro 
 prietor to his mines, but when I learned that I 
 would have to climb a mountain at an angle of 
 about sixty degrees and that his knees had about 
 played out climbing it, I gave up and fell in to 
 make the best of it, and I did. 
 
 We bought chairs, blankets, eggs, bacon, bread, 
 sugar, tea, etc. All stores back in Canada keep 
 Ottawa bread. They dump ithe loaves, un 
 wrapped, off at every station. I did not ask any
 
 188 Letters-Essays 
 
 questions, but I could see by what they were 
 buying that there couldn't be much in the camp, 
 that it must be rather an inhospitable place. 
 Loaded up, we drove westerly some nineteen 
 miles over a sandy plain and a very good road, 
 except the last three miles. We did not see or 
 pass a dwelling in the first eight or ten miles, and 
 only a very few during the whole trip. I judge 
 the sand soil would produce crops for a few 
 years, if cultivated, the same as did the sand 
 about Colton and Parishville. On nearly reach 
 ing our destination, crossing a swampy place in 
 the woods, our wagon slightly played out, and 
 there we were. Dr. McKay, his brother Hiram 
 and the teamster, on examination, saw that they 
 could repair it, and so urged Dr. Kirby and 
 myself to take the gun and go into camp. We 
 hesitated, just a little, as it did not look quite 
 fair to go on and leave them, but while we were 
 reflecting the mosquitoes did not. They came at 
 us out of that swamp in droves. It was awful. 
 They acted as if they had not seen a gentle, suc 
 culent, Christian being out looking for health 
 and a good time, before this summer. They sung 
 about our heads and bit us in the most eager 
 and persistent fashion. I can't say as to Dr. 
 Kirby, but I can for myself, that they helped 
 me to make up my mind what to do, and I didn't 
 go alone. Reaching the river and finding a boat, 
 we crossed over to a pleasant knoll, where stands 
 the log cabin which wais to be our abiding place
 
 An Outing In Canada 189 
 
 for a week. We were soon joined by the rest of 
 the party. There we found Mr. Guy E. Robinson 
 and wife of New York City, who had just pre 
 ceded us. We prevailed on them to use the board 
 shanty near by, and make common lot with us, 
 which they did, much to our advantage and com 
 fort. And now I have got you into camp. I have 
 been so slow about it that I have exhausted my 
 time and space. I can do no more now. If the 
 spirit moves me, and you can spare the space, I 
 will try and give you in a later issue our experi 
 ence camping in the woods. 
 
 n. 
 
 I promised in my last letter that if the spirit 
 moved me I would give you an account of our 
 camp life. I am not very sure what it is, but 
 something is moving me, for I find myself with 
 pencil in hand. It is to be hoped that it is a good 
 spirit, for I shall need much help to give you, 
 with a pen, anything like a real picture of the 
 experiences of camp life. That can come you 
 can only get that from actual camping. So, at 
 best, anything I can say can only be an apology 
 for the reality. With this understanding we will 
 see what sort of a spirit is nagging me to this 
 undertaking. 
 
 Well, in that letter I succeeded, after a fashion, 
 in getting you to our camp. Let us first take a 
 look at our surroundings. We are on the Picka-
 
 190 Letters-Essays 
 
 nock River, about the size of the Grasse River. 
 The " Pickanock Fish and Game Club " of Ot 
 tawa has preserved it for five miles and our lodge 
 is about midway. The stream, for the whole 
 length of the preserve, is a still water and very 
 similar in color and size to the Bog on the Racket. 
 The banks are low and the timber comes to the 
 water's edge in all its pristine fullness, excepting 
 that all the marketable pine has been cut out. Not 
 a spruce, hemlock, beech or maple can you see 
 or find in all these woods. The tall, dead pine 
 stand over it, all the same, as back on the plains. 
 What a mighty pine forest it once was! Some 
 lumbering is still done on it annually, though 
 only a fraction of what was formerly done. The 
 timber now got is a second or even third cut, and 
 logs that were in too difficult places for the first 
 jobbers to meddle with. The river empties into 
 the Gatineau, as do all the innumerable lakes and 
 streams in this northern section. There is not a 
 hut or cabin the whole five miles, save ours, and 
 only two or three places where one could be 
 pleasantly built. 'The underbrush has been cut a 
 little on one side of our cabin, giving us some 
 sunlight and making the spot more cheerful. 
 More should be cut, that the wind may have a 
 sweep at the mosquitoes. 
 
 The journey in tired us somewhat and, natu 
 rally, our first thoughts were for something to eat. 
 To eat, we must have a fire and a fireplace. Ac 
 cordingly, we picked stone and built one on the
 
 An Outing In Canada 191 
 
 lawn, just as they did two or three thousand years 
 ago, but I guess we had better cooking utensils 
 than they had, due, luckily, to meeting Mr. Rob 
 inson, with his twentieth century outfit. But for 
 him, I judge, we would have been about on a par 
 with the ancients. The guides, directed by Mrs. 
 Robinson, a brave and gentle little lady, pre 
 pared our supper, as they did all our meals. 
 When ready, there were no tea bells or gongs to 
 rasp the ear. We were all there and on hand. 
 What freedom nay, liberty, and what simplicity! 
 No standing about the table, with your hand on 
 the back of the chair, awaiting the nod of the 
 hostess to move in rhythmic unison to your seats. 
 Whoever could, got at the table. Whoever could 
 not, sat on stumps, trunks, etc. Some had hats 
 on and some no coat or vest. No style or pomp 
 or ceremony here. Food they want and food they 
 are bound to get. After all, is that not about 
 all there is of it at any table? We had no menu, 
 no ice cream, cake, tarts or pie, but plenty of 
 bread, butter, eggs, bacon, etc., which fit a woods 
 appetite much better. The French guides bring 
 the pots and kettles and you take what you want, 
 and you don't feel that all eyes are on you 
 watching what you take. In the woods you must 
 eat solid food. The exercise, good air, freedom 
 and want of sleep seem to demand it. One would 
 <have to eat all the time if he ate soups, cake, 
 whipped cream, etc., that some people are fed 
 on at home. We were on a purely fishing trip
 
 192 Letters-Essays 
 
 and yet they took in bacon, pork, yes, salt pork 
 and canned beef. Mr. Hiram Eobinson, one of 
 the proprietors of the lodge, persisted in speak 
 ing of it as " Cuba beef," when I finally told 
 him that we had reliable information that it was 
 some of the beef that was stolen from the hos 
 pitals in South Africa. That seemed to settle it. 
 At any rate we heard no more of " Cuba beef." 
 The meat supply surprised me. I supposed, on 
 such a trip, that the fish would answer for meat, 
 but they don 't. A few meals and the most crazy 
 fisherman tires of them. I suppose that the glory 
 and charm of fishing is not the fish, or in the eat 
 ing of them, but in the sport of catching them. 
 Of this more anon. 
 
 We have viewed our surroundings and taken 
 a meal. Let us step into the cabin. It is built 
 of logs and about fifteen by eighteen feet, with a 
 porch in front. In the rear end are four board 
 double berths, two upper and two lower, but no 
 elevator or even stairs. A box stove stands in 
 the center of the room for use in the hunting 
 season. The guides bring in a little straw from 
 the ice house and place it in the bunks. The 
 blankets are thrown over the straw and your 
 boots or valise with a coat over them, to make 
 them soft and nice, placed at the head for a pil 
 low. How inviting to rest and slumber! What 
 an exchange for the soft mattress, clean sheets 
 and feather pillow you have gone off and left! 
 What reveries, what fantasies, what sweet and
 
 An Outing In Canada 193 
 
 gentle dreams will come to one in such a bed as 
 that! 
 
 But it's camping and it's glorious. You are 
 getting back to man's native state and you must 
 like it, love it, just as the boy grown old does the 
 place of his nativity. 
 
 We spent the evening until a late hour about 
 the camp fire on the lawn, smoking, chatting and 
 telling stories. It was about all we could do. If 
 we got away from the fire and smoke, the little 
 devils would pester the life out 'of us. Having 
 seen the bed, I didn't much care if we sat up all 
 night. But, weary at last, and wishing to be in 
 as good shape as possible for the morrow's fish 
 ing, we went to bed. Bed, did I say? I should 
 have said bunk. A bed is supposed to be a place 
 where one can sleep. Didn't we? Well, some 
 of us, but not I, very much that night. 
 
 Dr. Kirby and I got one of the upper berths 
 and Dr. McKay and brother the other. The 
 guides were directly under us, that is, Dr. Kirby 
 and me. One of the guides and one of our own 
 party (I withhold his name out of pity) went 
 to sleep at once. Think of it, in such a bed! 
 Tired out, I suppose. He must have been. But 
 that was not all. They went to snoring, and 
 such swells and cadences I never heard sur 
 passed. One was an in-snorer only, and the 
 other both an in and out, a sort of compound 
 blower. Properly rigged up, his exhaust and 
 suction would run a large fan, and I should think
 
 194 Letters-Essays 
 
 he would do it these hot days. I do not give his 
 name, as his wife might take it into her head to 
 go out west and get a divorce, in which case Dr. 
 Kirby and I would be star witnesses for her. But 
 perhaps he doesn't snore at home. I hope not. 
 
 Think of Dr. Kirby, saying nothing of myself, 
 in such a bed, in that hollow, resonant >cabin, 
 with a snorer under us and another at our heels, 
 trying to woo Morpheus. We called to them, or 
 rather I did, many times to ' ' stop, " to " let up, ' ' 
 but it only resulted in a gurgle, a snap and a 
 crack, a few skips and the same old story. Thus 
 we rolled and tossed, with sore and aching hip 
 bone, shoulder and side of the head till the wee 
 hours of the morning, when exhausted nature 
 kindly kissed us and we were still at last. We 
 must have slept well when we did sleep, for we 
 seemed to be in pretty good shape in the morn 
 ing. We arose early, not from choice, but be 
 cause we had to. The mosquitoes, black flies and 
 sand flies got at us at about 6 a. m. and there 
 was no such thing as sleep, after this. They 
 tackled the snorers, as well as us, and I was glad 
 of it. It was the only fair play we had seen. 
 
 The guides, out before us, had caught many 
 minnows for bait and had breakfast well under 
 way. Eating it, we rigged up three boats and 
 moved off. The steel and bamboo rods, silk and 
 linen lines, reels, plain and automatic, tin trunks 
 with many compartments, sinkers, nippers, clip 
 pers, hooks for all kinds of fish, gaff hooks, land-
 
 An Outing In Canada 195 
 
 ing nets, etc., etc., of an up-to-date fisherman are 
 something bewildering. An ordinary layman 
 would think, to see one of them pack up, that he 
 was an army surgeon. The minnows are put in 
 a pail filled with holes. This they put inside 
 another pail, so as to give them fresh water now 
 and then. It is claimed that the fish bite them 
 better if they are kept fresh, but I can't see as 
 it can make much difference, since when they 
 come to use them they put the hooks in their 
 mouths and out through the top of their heads, 
 which pacific and gentle operation must be very 
 quieting to them. 
 
 What do you think of that for cruelty to ani 
 mals, and by college bred men at that? But it's 
 fishing and it's glorious. No sport known to 
 man equals it with some, and only hunting rivals 
 it with others. Hunting and fishing are the two 
 great pastimes of man everywhere, and both are 
 essentially cruel. In yesterday's papers I see 
 that the royalty and nobility of England have 
 just started out to chase, shoot and kill the 
 game which they have grown in their preserves 
 for the very purpose of chasing, hounding, wound 
 ing and killing. Why do we so inordinately love 
 such sports? Is it the food problem? Hardly, 
 for we do not need it and eat but little of it when 
 we get it. It lies back of this. It is in our na 
 tures, engrafted there by the ages of struggle 
 of our early forefathers to live, and it will take 
 ages to eradicate it, if it ever be done.
 
 196 Letters-Essays 
 
 While thus moralizing, we have reached good 
 fishing grounds. The hooks are baited and 
 thrown out. They only fairly sink into the water 
 when they are taken. Away goes the line, now 
 here, now there, cutting the water with a siss, 
 bending the pole to a semi-circle. The fisher 
 man, eager, excited, see how his face glows, 
 watching the antics of the fish, as he darts about, 
 now out of the water, in again, behind the boat, 
 all about, until he is tired out and taken in. What 
 sport, what fun. Only the genuine fisherman 
 can measure it. Thus it went most of the time, 
 whenever desired, for five days. The fish caught 
 were mostly bass, some dore and a few pickerel. 
 The dore correspond very much, if not fully, to 
 what we call pike. After a little we only kept 
 the large ones, three pounds or over, throwing 
 the smaller ones back into the stream, but we 
 had the sport of catching them just the same, 
 or rather they did. How such Racket Eiver fish 
 ermen as John 'Sullivan, A. D. Heath and 
 others I could name would laugh and verily revel 
 in such fishing as we found. But, I suspect, it 
 would hardly be safe for them to indulge in it, 
 as in their delirium of delight they would be 
 likely to capsize the boat and drown! 
 
 The sport of fishing, to the real fisherman, is 
 a supreme and constant joy and pleasure. It 
 must be innate, something which masters him, 
 when he will creep and wade down a brook, with 
 low, overhanging alder bushes, in mosquito and
 
 An Outing In Canada 197 
 
 black fly time, Ms face, neck and hands coated 
 with sticky tar preparations, or sit in a boat all 
 day, as we did, in the broiling sun, to catch fish, 
 only to throw nine out of ten back into the 
 stream. But, perhaps, it is not the catching of 
 the nine but the tenth that encourages and 
 pleases them. Something does at any rate. 
 
 Thus you have the story of one day's fishing. 
 The others were but repetitions of this, though 
 in new waters. We go back to camp as evening 
 comes on. We eat better and sleep better than 
 we did at first. The exercise, ozone of the woods, 
 and freedom from care are doing us good. We 
 are the better for it all. We are stronger now. 
 They can snore and we can sleep some. And 
 here I am, time and space gone again. There 
 were some pleasant incidents which I meant to 
 mention, but must pass them now. Possibly I 
 may be able to give them to you later, though I 
 do not promise. 
 
 m. 
 
 The disposition, common to most of us, to wish 
 to finish what we undertake, prompts me to re 
 sume the narrative which I supposed when I be 
 gan would be completed in a single letter. I did 
 not, it seems, duly value the items and incidents 
 of the trip in so thinking, or else I have unduly 
 expatiated upon them. However, wherever the 
 fault may lie, I should be able to stand it if you
 
 198 Letters-Essays 
 
 and your readers can, since I am only out the 
 time that it takes to write them. Begging par 
 don for the space taken, I assure you and them 
 to complete the outing with this letter. 
 
 I hear, through friendly sources, a little com 
 plaint that I have not enlivened and embellished 
 these articles with some fairy and fantastic fish 
 stories and fishing exploits that many readers 
 expect them and are not a little disappointed that 
 none are given that an enlarged and highly ex 
 aggerated truth is not only warranted, but ex 
 pected by some, in the story of a fishing trip. If 
 there be such, and no doubt there are, I am sure 
 I have only to remind them of the company I 
 was in. They must have forgotten this. It 
 wouldn't do with such a witness against me. 
 What I might or would have done but for this 
 there is no telling. So I guess on the whole, tak 
 ing everything into consideration, that fishing 
 parties would better take the minister and leave 
 the doctor, if they can't take both. There is 
 more danger of doing wrong than of illness. Then, 
 too, some people get well, you know, when the 
 doctor can't get at them. 
 
 Pent up there in the woods, shut off from the 
 telegraph, post-office, newspapers and civiliza 
 tion itself (except the little of the latter that we 
 took along with us) we had, naturally, as all 
 such parties do, many amusing and laughable epi 
 sodes and experiences. A few of them are per 
 haps worthy of note. At once in going into camp,
 
 An Outing In Canada 199 
 
 the guides went and got their Indian birch bark 
 canoe which they had hid in the woods, think 
 ing to help us out. But it didn't. No one could 
 or would ride in it but themselves, and we wanted 
 them to help row our boats. One day Hiram Mc 
 Kay, quite an experienced boatsman, decided he 
 would use it on one of our trips with a guide to 
 paddle. They got into it off the wharf, with 
 some help, and started out, but they didn't go 
 far when they went back and rigged up an old 
 water soaked punt and came on after us. 
 
 Beaching us, we laughed at him, but he cared 
 not; said he was in mortal terror all the time; 
 that the tottlish thing was in an eternal quiver 
 and seemed determined to turn over, but unde 
 cided which way it was going to go; that he 
 didn't dare to wink one eye at a time, so evenly 
 balanced must he keep himself. They are made 
 of a single piece of bark, coming to an edge and 
 gently turning up at either end, as round as a 
 barrel and as smooth as a polished floor. They 
 float the water like a " thing of life " and are 
 pleasant to look upon, but get into them and the 
 charm is gone. They are too anxious to turn 
 over to make it pleasant. In fact, to a new comer, 
 they seemed determined to do so. And when 
 they do, how mighty quick it is done! You can't 
 say good-bye to friends on the shore before it is 
 wrong side up and you are under it out of sight. 
 We had a good deal of bantering and challenging 
 when Mr. Robinson decided that he could ride
 
 200 Letters-Essays 
 
 it. We held it for him to get in, as you would 
 a kicking colt for one to mount. The Indian po 
 sition, which, of course, we must copy, is to place 
 your knees on the bottom and -sit on the bar 
 across from the gunwales, giving you a sort of 
 half-standing position on your knees with your 
 feet under the bar a rather perilous situation, 
 it seemed to me. But he took it and we very 
 gently pushed him out into the stream. He and 
 it, we could see, were quivering like a leaf, es 
 pecially it. Taking a few gentle strokes with the 
 paddle he shot out into the stream, when, quick 
 as lightning, his giant form was lost to view and 
 the canoe bottom side up. His wife, on the shore 
 with us, cried out, clasped her hands and rushed 
 for the water's edge. The rest of us were silent 
 at first, fearing his legs might be entangled with 
 the cross-bars, but, presently, as he emerged just 
 below the canoe, roared with laughter as you may 
 well believe. 
 
 Oh ! the canoe, the real Indian canoe, is a pretty 
 thing, an idyl; it rides the water so lightly, even 
 poetically, like a thing of beauty. But its place, 
 it seems to me, is in story, painting or poem. 
 
 In a previous letter I told you of the sand 
 flies, simply mentioning them. They are, per 
 haps, deserving of a little further notice. I don 't 
 know whether we have any such animals in these 
 parts or not. I hope not, at any rate. I never 
 happened to hear of them before. The first I 
 knew of them was one evening, when out on the
 
 An Outing In Canada 201 
 
 river with a guide, looking for deer simply to 
 see them. Creeping along the shore, all at once 
 I began to feel sharp bites on the back of my 
 neck, up my sleeve and finally all over me. I was 
 kept mighty busy spatting and rubbing the bit 
 ten places. I couldn't feel that I killed anything, 
 nor could I see any mosquitoes or black flies fly 
 ing about. What the deuce was biting me I didn't 
 know. Being under an injunction to keep very 
 still I stood it for some time. Tormented at last 
 to exasperation, deer or no deer, I turned and 
 called out to the guide: " What in the world is 
 biting me so? I don't see anything flying about, 
 but I am being bitten all over." Laughing till 
 he shook himself and the boat he feebly muttered 
 out in broken English, " San' flies." And let 
 me say right here that the mosquito and black 
 fly are nowhere with these fellows. They can get 
 at you in the most hidden parts, where the others 
 can't go. They are so small that you can't feel 
 them walking up your arm or down your back, 
 but you can when they stop to bite, as they are 
 sure to do. 
 
 The next day I spent some time to find one 
 just to see him. Feeling a bite on my hand, I 
 let him go it, and putting on my spectacles, took 
 a look at him. A tinier little beast you never 
 saw, a perfect little fly. What infinitesimal lit 
 tle wings. If Noah took a pair of these into the 
 ark with him, and I suppose he did, he must have 
 been a great naturalist. How he did it without
 
 202 Letters-Essays 
 
 a microscope is more than I can tell, and lenses 
 came into use long after his time. 
 
 On one of our fishing trips, after building a fire 
 on the shore, getting and eating our dinner, we 
 all got out on some rocks to smoke, when all at 
 once there was a slip, much scrambling and 
 sprawling, and presently a great splash. One 
 of our party was in the river and with his clothes 
 all on. Being close to shore, and no danger, it 
 was a very laughable incident as he came up out 
 of the water, soaked to the skin, his clothes wet 
 and dripping and fitting his person like a glove, 
 but we didn't laugh, no, not much, just a little, 
 when he did. This party doesn't believe in total 
 immersion, that is, that it is actually necessary 
 to be total, but he took it and very gracefully 
 this time. Had it been I or some of the others 
 they would have died a laughing. That very 
 evening, when gathered about our camp fire 
 telling stories, and wearing the time away, this 
 same fellow, presumably to further dry himself, 
 turned in his chair, astride it, with his back to 
 the fire, when over he went across and into our 
 kitchen fire. There was, luckily, a gentleman 
 sitting on the opposite side who, with others, in 
 stantly gathered him up and out of it. We didn't 
 laugh this time, either, just chuckled a little, 
 when we learned that he was unharmed. I do 
 not need to give any name. It would not help 
 the story any and he may be a little sensitive. I 
 will say, however, that he was a good man, must
 
 An Outing In Canada 203 
 
 have been, for, like the three good men of old, 
 he came out of the fiery furnace without even the 
 smell of fire upon his garments. 
 
 During our stay of a week in camp we saw 
 quite a good many deer and all in the day time. 
 The hunting season in Canada is during the 
 months of October and November. They can 
 hound deer during the last ten days of October 
 only. 
 
 In moving about on the river we came upon 
 many patches of lily pads with their beautiful 
 orange and white blossoms. At one place there 
 was a full half-acre of them all white. How 
 beautiful they were! The flower seems to sit or 
 rest just upon the surface as if it had had all it 
 could do to get out to view. What a pure, deli 
 cate and exquisite white! It seemed to me that 
 I had never seen anything quite so absolutely 
 white, tender and lovely. Perhaps, very likely, 
 the lone retreat and sombre stillness of those 
 sighing pine forests added a little to their lus 
 trous whiteness and purity. Why are they there 
 and how came they so exquisitely white? Is na 
 ture so kind, so prodigal to the muskrat, duck 
 and poor Indian? Are they beautiful to them 
 or do they pass them by unnoticed? At best but 
 few see them farther back in the wilderness, 
 none at all, and yet they pine not, but come and 
 go with the seasons. As night comes on, the en 
 folding and protecting leaves close up, making 
 a green bulb of the blossom, as much as to say
 
 204 Letters-Essays 
 
 there is no eye to see me now and I will protect 
 my purity and loveliness from the night air, that 
 I may be as beautiful to the morrow's passer by. 
 Many times as I looked upon them I asked my 
 self these and kindred questions and I am still 
 asking, but no satisfactory answer comes to me. 
 
 From what was told me, I judge they kill deer 
 out of season, about the same as it is reported 
 they are killed in the States. They have pre 
 serves over there, the same as we do, but they 
 do not own them as here, they rent them from 
 the government. The one we were on consisted 
 of fifteen square miles with annual dues of $62.50, 
 no other taxes or charges. 
 
 A few rods from our camp was a grave in the 
 woods, hidden with brakes and bushes, covered 
 over entirely with stone, and a few rods farther 
 two more. Whenever the Indians, or even the 
 poor whites, sicken and die in the woods they 
 are often taken ashore and buried. If it be an 
 Indian they bury his pipe, knife, gun, etc., with 
 him for use in the other world. If it be a white 
 man they strip him of all these and often get 
 into a quarrel or law suit over a division of them. 
 Standing by these graves, away back there in 
 the woods, no headstone to tell the stranger their 
 names, their race or when they fell asleep, with 
 the sighing of the pine their only prayer, made 
 us, I confess, a little sad. Perhaps it should not 
 have done so, but it did. 
 
 And this is the story of our outing. That I have
 
 An Outing In Canada 205 
 
 given at least a faithful and honest, if not in 
 teresting, portrayal of both the pleasant and dis 
 comforting sides of camp life, I feel quite sure 
 that those who have had similar experience will 
 attest. I certainly have done my best in a hasty 
 way, and under some adverse circumstances, to so 
 picture it that all, especially those who have not 
 been in camp, might sleep with us, eat with us 
 and laugh with us. That I have but imperfectly 
 succeeded I well know. At best any pen picture 
 can be only a poor apology for actual camp ex 
 perience. It did me good did us all good, physi 
 cally, mentally, and, I trust, spiritually. 
 
 The only tinge of sadness that comes from it all 
 is the reflection that so short, or even a longer 
 stay in the woods, should build up and reinvigo- 
 rate us as it seems to do. Is it not more or less of 
 an indictment of higher life and cultured living 
 that we must play semi-aborigine every now and 
 then to be in good shape to repair the loastes of 
 our aesthetic, cultured lifef
 
 Militant 
 
 CANNOT restrain the impulse to add a 
 few words to the common sorrow of all 
 our people, not that I can tell them 
 anything they do not know or, in any 
 manner, temper the anguish of their bereave 
 ment. No, it is not that, or to do that, that I 
 would speak. It is rather the welling of emo 
 tions which would have expression for relief's 
 sake the utterance of a cry, as the most nat 
 ural outlet and escape for pent up feelings. 
 Overburdened with grief and sorrow, human 
 nature finds relief and consolation in tears and 
 prayer, and in the belief that God in justice and 
 wisdom rules. If we could not do this, there 
 would be no lamp to our walk, and eternal dark 
 ness would eventually be around and upon us. 
 Anarchy, black anarchy, and barbarism, would, 
 ere long, hold sway and there would be little 
 hope for mankind. 
 
 A great sorrow has fallen upon all our people, 
 nay, upon all civilized peoples. From all quar 
 ters of the globe which civilization has touched 
 and quickened, come the prayer and condolence 
 of potentate and peasant to help us in this hour
 
 William McKinley 207 
 
 of mighty sorrow. That they do it, is proof that 
 sympathy, fellow feeling and brotherly love are 
 in the ascendancy throughout the land, and that 
 there is hope for the future. When all peoples 
 are touched and bowed down by a sorrow and 
 affliction that has fallen upon one people, it 
 speaks well for the progress we have made and 
 for the ultimate unification of all into a common 
 brotherhood. 
 
 Mr. McKinley was beloved by the people while 
 in office, to a greater extent and more universally 
 than any other of our Presidents, even more so 
 than the immortal Lincoln. He was a grand man, 
 gentle, generous, kindly. He loved the people 
 and had no other thought than their welfare and 
 good. He took no steps, pushed no measures 
 until he had consulted the people and got their 
 will. He sought only to be the executive of the 
 people, never their oppressor. He was an able 
 man, probably the ablest and strongest man in 
 civil life today. No man in this country could 
 equal him in a speech to the people. No man 
 excelled him in clear, apt and epigrammatic ex 
 pression or in felicitious phrasing. He was the 
 most consummate handler and master of men of 
 this age or of any age. He could wield and bring 
 more men to his way of thinking, without offend 
 ing or wounding them, than any man of modern 
 times. The only man who nearly approached him 
 in this respect was Lincoln. Neither ever spoke 
 ill or harshly of another. Both were too great,
 
 208 Letters-Essays 
 
 grand and noble to thus belittle themselves. 
 Dying as he did places him with the immortals 
 and second only to Lincoln. 
 
 For the third time within forty years the Re 
 public of Washington and Lincoln, the only free 
 Republic among men, has been thrown by an as 
 sassin's hand into the deepest gloom and most 
 lamentable sorrow. Why! Oh, ye God of hosts, 
 why? We mortals cannot answer, cannot say. 
 Were they tyrants, monsters, as rulers? No, on 
 the contrary, confessed by all, they were the 
 gentlest, tenderest, kindest, and most lovable of 
 all our Presidents, and for that matter of all chief 
 executives in the world's history. There is no 
 higher or nobler type of man and ruler on the 
 pages of history than that of the immortal Lin 
 coln. Garfield, too, was a gentle and conserva 
 tive man and much in the hearts of his people. 
 Lincoln was struck down after four years of awful 
 civil war, and our people then, and ever since, 
 have found, or at least taken, some consolation 
 for the act from this fact. Garfield was shot by 
 a crazy fanatic, whose brain gave way to the 
 bitter and relentless political feuds and strifes 
 which then rent the party, and again the people's 
 grief and indignation were allayed, seeking, as 
 they do and ever will, for some palliation or par 
 tial excuse. 
 
 In McKinley's case we are bereft and dis 
 consolate, with no excuse, palliation or extenu 
 ating circumstance. It was the most cold blooded
 
 William McKinley 209 
 
 and dastardly crime in all history. Moving with 
 the throng who loved him and wished to greet 
 him, under the guise of friendship, in a temple 
 dedicated to music, with gun hidden from view, 
 as the proffered hand is extended, the assassin 
 shoots him down. Oh, what a crime was that! 
 It is appalling, awful. To think of it or recount 
 it makes one faint and sick at heart. But we 
 should not and must not despair. As Garfield 
 told the excited throng from the steps of the 
 sub-treasury in New York City on that bitter 
 morning in April, 1865, " God reigns and the 
 Government at Washington still lives," so yet 
 again may we repeat the same message. Then, 
 too, McKinley dying, in his latest breath and last 
 words, bidding all " good-bye," admonished all, 
 us all, that it was God's will and for the best. It 
 must be that it is, though we with our short vis 
 ion cannot divine it. If it be not, then God does 
 not reign, and this we cannot, must not, say or 
 believe. Out of this crime will come, must come, 
 some great good. Already it has knit us all into 
 one brotherhood of devoted, loyal, loving, weep 
 ing people. At this bier there is no sect, no clan, 
 no party, but one and all, kindly and fraternal, 
 save possibly the blear-eyed and savage anarchist. 
 Tribulation and sorrow, deep and universal as 
 it is, cannot but remove some of the asperities of 
 our natures, and make us gentler, kindlier and 
 better. 
 Poor and weak as this balm may be, we know
 
 210 Letters-Essays 
 
 it is best to accept that which is, complacently, 
 knowing that we are frail and shortsighted, trust 
 ing, relying, as he did and as he bid us, on the 
 stewardship of God Himself. Little else is left us.
 
 2>aniei Webster 
 
 power of fl&agnificent presence 
 
 S"|OME years ago Mr. William L. Knowles 
 ^i of Potsdam gave me an account of his 
 MM first sight of Daniel Webster, which is 
 worth repeating. Mr. Knowles and 
 Henry J. Raymond were pretty close friends 
 while students at the Burlington University. 
 Mr. Raymond was in the class just ahead of Mr. 
 Knowles and, therefore, graduated a year in ad 
 vance of him. While in college, he had been 
 writing a good deal for The Tribune, and. when 
 he left college, went directly upon The Tribune 
 staff at $15 per week, which was considered 
 pretty high pay. Mr. Raymond was a very able 
 young man and a most brilliant writer. Mr. 
 Greeley was anxious to secure him on his paper. 
 He did, but he proved too brainy and ambitious 
 to get along well with such an indomitable 
 master as Mr. Greeley. 
 
 When Mr. Knowles graduated he went into a 
 noted law office, the name of which I have for 
 gotten, in New York City, where he resumed his
 
 212 Letters-Essays 
 
 pleasant relations with Mr. Baymond. One bright 
 morning he was taking an early stroll down 
 Broadway alone, listlessly passing along, meeting 
 but few and not noting them, thinking of how 
 insignificant is a man in such a mart. 
 
 The Astor House was then a large and noted 
 hotel. There were broad stone steps leading from 
 the walk up to the entrance, with heavy stone 
 buttresses on either side, having a broad top or 
 surface on a level with the door sill, extending 
 out to and a few feet above the edge of the 
 pavement, on which a man could readily walk. 
 
 As Mr. Knowles neared these steps in his idle 
 walk he looked up, just how or why he could 
 not say. As he did so, a stocky man with broad 
 shoulders, large wide-rimmed Panama hat, with 
 a courtly and magnificent bearing, was walking 
 out on the top of one of the balustrades with 
 head up, sniffing the morning air like a lion ris 
 ing from his lair. The moment his eyes fell upon 
 him they were riveted and so was he in his 
 tracks. He did not know it until awakened from 
 the spell a few moments later, nor did he know 
 the name of the man whose distinguished pres 
 ence, unaided and alone, had done it. Nor did 
 he notice, so intent was his gaze upon this superb 
 figure, that all other people going by, up or down, 
 had been equally with himself arrested in their 
 walk until the street was blocked with men for 
 some distance. 
 
 Presently some one in the crowd who recog-
 
 Daniel Webster 213 
 
 nized him cried out: " Give us a speech, Web 
 ster." At this Mr. Knowles turned in the direc 
 tion of the voice and for the first time learned 
 that a mass of people had collected about him. 
 Thereupon there was a grand call for a speech, 
 but Mr. Webster instantly raised his hat and, 
 graciously bowing, strolled with masterly dig 
 nity back into the hotel. 
 
 What intellect and genius must one possess, ex 
 pressed in brow, in eye, in mouth, in chin, and 
 in that indefinable look and stately bearing at 
 tendant only upon consummate and conscious 
 ability, to block a street with his presence alone. 
 It was not due to great height or enormous size, 
 since, as I remember, he was under six feet in 
 height and -weighed a little over two hundred. 
 
 It is the homage which mediocrity pays to 
 genius. But why should so few be thus blessed, 
 or rather why should so many of us be so very 
 plain?
 
 Jubge fcestie TWL IRussell 
 
 HE subject of this sketch was born April 
 15th, 1840, at Canton, New York. His 
 father, John Leslie Russell, resided there 
 and was, for many years, one of the 
 prominent forces in the affairs of St. Lawrence 
 County, dying early in 1861, at the opening of 
 the great Civil War. 
 
 Judge Russell secured his school training in 
 the district school and in the Academy at Can 
 ton. Though he had not the advantages of a col 
 legiate education, he possessed what the college 
 cannot give, only train, a strong, vigorous and 
 intuitive mind. The generally understood need 
 of a college course to train, drill and polish the 
 faculties we possess has been, in his case, amply 
 compensated for by his long and varied profes 
 sional study. He read law in the office of Nich 
 olas Hill in Albany, New York, one of the ablest 
 lawyers in the state, arid began the practice of 
 law at Canton in 1861. He soon formed a co 
 partnership with William H. Sawyer, under the 
 firm name of Sawyer & Russell, which continued 
 till the appointment of the former to the Supreme 
 Bench in 1875. This firm did an extensive busi-
 
 JUDGE LESLIE W. RUSSELL
 
 Judge Leslie W. Russell 215 
 
 ness and became one of the most noted, as it was 
 one of, if not the, ablest law firms in northern 
 New York. 
 
 In 1867, when only twenty-seven years of age, 
 he was elected a delegate to the convention to 
 revise the organic law of the state. After this 
 he held the position of district attorney of the 
 county, law professor in the St. Lawrence Uni 
 versity, supervisor of his town, presidential 
 elector, County Judge of the county, Attorney 
 General of the state, member of Congress and 
 Justice of the Supreme Court, which latter po 
 sition he now holds. In all these positions he 
 has acquitted himself, not only with credit, but 
 with distinction. It is generally conceded that 
 the state has not had in years, if it ever had, an 
 abler Attorney General, one possessing greater 
 legal acumen or ability to grasp the complex 
 questions coming to that office for solution and 
 determination. During his term as Attorney 
 General he never found it necessary to employ 
 counsel or assistance in any litigation or matter. 
 He was fully competent to grasp and handle 
 alone every case which came before him. 
 
 On completion of his term as Attorney General 
 he went to New York City, where he practiced 
 law for eight years, and until his election to the 
 Supreme Court Bench, January 1st, 1892. Dur 
 ing those eight years he was the attorney or 
 counsel in several important and famous litiga 
 tions, involving thousands and even millions of
 
 216 Letters-Essays 
 
 dollars. In these great struggles he met as foes 
 Eoseoe Conkling, Joseph H. Choate and others, 
 the most distinguished lawyers in America. With 
 these men as opponents he was just as much at 
 ease, just as sanguine of himself and of his case, 
 and carried himself with that superb confidence 
 for which he was famous at the circuit in north 
 ern New York. 
 
 The most important cases in which he was in 
 terested were the Broadway surface railroad lit 
 igation, the Brooklyn elevated railroad suit and 
 the action by the heirs of A. T. Stewart to re 
 cover portions of his estate. The Broadway sur 
 face railroad matter got into, as will be remem 
 bered, an interminable muddle owing to a num 
 ber of actions being brought to accomplish the 
 same end, and a weak and inefficient comprehen 
 sion of the situation. When the matter had 
 reached a stage of great confusion and bewilder 
 ment, the Attorney General of the state engaged 
 Judge Eussell to take the whole matter in charge, 
 and he did, winning the case at every point and 
 through all the courts. 
 
 The Brooklyn Elevated suits were in just about 
 as inexplicable a muddle when he took hold of 
 them. In these he was beaten at the circuit and 
 at the general term, but at the Court of Appeals 
 he not only secured reversal of the judgment be 
 low, but a judgment absolute for his clients. In 
 these suits it is understood he got, as he should, 
 a very handsome fee.
 
 Judge Leslie W. Russell 217 
 
 In the Palmer will case, famous as establish 
 ing a new principle of law, Judge Russell was 
 counsel with C. E. Sanford, attorney. In this 
 case it was settled as a principle of law that a 
 party taking the life of one who has made a will 
 in his behalf, for the purpose of coming into pos 
 session of the property, cannot take as devisee 
 or even as heir. Strange as it may seem, so wise 
 and beneficent a principle as this had not been 
 settled in English law till this case was heard. 
 So far as could be ascertained, from an exhaustive 
 study of English law and jurisprudence, the prin 
 ciples established by this decision have never 
 been raised, or at least decided by the courts. 
 Presumably, it has been thought that the statutes 
 of descent were controlling and paramount to 
 even so beneficent a principle; that statute law 
 is superior to abstract right. And yet the merest 
 school boy knows that it is an axiom, both of 
 moral and statute law, that no man shall profit 
 by his own wrong. Still, in the thousands of 
 cases in the past centuries where a devisee had 
 taken the life of his testator, no one had invoked 
 this principle against the positive statute law of 
 descent. Since the decision of this case, in 1889, 
 upwards of fifty similar cases have already 
 arisen. Therefore in the preparation and pres 
 entation of this case there was no guide, no pre 
 cedent. And yet Judge Russell saw the end from 
 the beginning. His prayer for judgment in the 
 complaint was almost literally followed by the
 
 218 Letters-Essays 
 
 decision of the Court of Appeals. His brief on 
 the argument was printed at the time and is 
 everywhere conceded to be a legal classic ; a mas 
 terpiece of moral and philosophic reasoning and 
 argument. This decision, so just and beneficent, 
 has been followed in some states and, we regret 
 to say, disapproved in others, on the ground that 
 statute law is controlling; that courts cannot 
 make law or do justice as against a statute. How 
 ever, in this imperial state they can and in this 
 case they did. 
 
 In the midst of a law practice such as this, he 
 was nominated as a candidate for the Supreme 
 Court Judgeship. He did not seek the nomina 
 tion, was in no sense a candidate. The position 
 sought him as it should seek the man in all cases, 
 but seldom does. Many people at the time were 
 not a little surprised that he accepted the Judge- 
 ship, great as it is in distinction, honor and 
 power. 
 
 They could not see how one so able, so gifted 
 and well equipped to meet and cope with the 
 giants at the bar, and with such an extensive and 
 lucrative practice, could be content with the 
 quiet life of a Judge. But each nature knows its 
 own wants and its own pleasures. We have heard 
 it often stated by those who have some right to 
 speak that he prefers the quiet freedom of his 
 Canton home, of country life, to that of the city, 
 the association and associations of his early life 
 to those of the city, and also that his judge life
 
 Judge Leslie W. Russell 219 
 
 is quite agreeable to him. If so, then surely no 
 one should complain, since the people in losing 
 an attorney have secured an able Judge, litigants 
 a learned and impartial arbiter. If Judge Bus- 
 sell is to follow the life of the Judge it is to be 
 hoped that he may yet receive that advancement 
 to which his learning and eminent qualifications 
 justly entitle him. It should be so hoped, not 
 from any personal reasons, but for the good of 
 the state and nation. The higher the court, the 
 greater his usefulness. But few men are called 
 to the Supreme Court at Washington who are his 
 superiors in learning, erudition or in ability to 
 grasp and solve great questions. He would honor 
 even that court fully as much or more than a seat 
 there would honor him. 
 
 NOTE The foregoing ,was published soon after Judge 
 Russell's elevation to the bench. I now, in February, 1907, 
 continue the sketch a little further: 
 
 In fact, I do not believe that half the Judges 
 on that bench were his superiors in broad and 
 comprehensive knowledge of the law and its 
 basic principles, in ability to throw aside the 
 chaff and rubbish which encumber every case, and 
 see only the point upon which the case really 
 stands and must be decided. In this faculty, he 
 far excelled any lawyer that I ever knew. Pos 
 sessing it, he never wasted his time or his ener 
 gies pursuing side issues or tangents. Seeing the 
 real and true point or principle, no matter how 
 hidden or involved or complicated the case might
 
 220 Letters-Essays 
 
 be, he bent all his energies to its elucidation and 
 establishment. 
 
 Then, too, he possessed the most intuitive legal 
 mind that I ever met. It seemed to work by in 
 duction, readily and at once comprehending the 
 situation, marshalling the facts and the law, 
 seeing his way from the beginning to the end. 
 But few men are given such power of insight. He 
 possessed a most masterful brain. Had he not 
 gone on the bench, and, had he kept on with his 
 practice in New York City, he certainly would, 
 in a few years, have taken equal rank with the 
 greatest lawyers of his time. 
 
 Nature was lavish in her endowments to him, 
 both physically and mentally. When a young 
 man he was an intellectual Apollo to look upon 
 and, in later life, an intellectual giant. His poise 
 and carriage, on the street or in the court room, 
 were superb, impressing all with the power and 
 majesty of the man. But few strangers could 
 meet him <on the street without turning to look 
 at him as he passed on. I saw him once walk 
 ing up Broadway in New York City. He then 
 had on a silk hat, which added to his imposing 
 presence. There was a vast throng of people 
 upon the street, and at least half of those he met 
 turned to look upon him, or tried to stop and do 
 so, but could not for the moving crowd. He did 
 not see me, but I was proud of him, and said to 
 those about me: " That is Judge Russell of St. 
 Lawrence County."
 
 Judge Leslie W. Russell 221 
 
 He was kind to me in my practice, and it is a 
 pleasure to pay him this little tribute. 
 
 It is strange indeed that of one so great and 
 able, so little should be said on his departure. 
 His going created a great void, at least in the 
 legal world, but somehow it moves on just the 
 same. It was not so in earlier times. Then they 
 would have given him a tomb or a monument. 
 He resigned from the Bench in September, 1902, 
 and returned to New York City to resume the 
 practice of the law, where he died February 3, 
 1903. 
 
 The Bar of St. Lawrence County, on Judge 
 Eussell's resignation from the Bench, issued a 
 pamphlet containing speeches and resolutions 
 highly complimentary to the Judge, and to his 
 ability and career as a jurist.
 
 Japan anb IRussia 
 
 Mar a Divine 
 
 OR the past eight months these two powers 
 have been, and are now, in a bitter, heart 
 less and almost savage struggle to do the 
 other to death. Neither has so far done 
 any fighting on its own soil to repel an invasion 
 or to defend its people or their homes from the 
 savagery of invading hosts. No, it is not a war 
 in defense of women and children, of homes, vil 
 lages and cities, temples, idols or gods, which are 
 alone the only wars that can be defended or justi 
 fied if the life, precepts and teachings of Christ 
 be what the most of us believe. If man, on the 
 other hand, in his highest state of enlightenment 
 and civilization, be only a veneered animal or 
 savage, as a good many of late are maintaining, 
 and as the conduct of some people every now and 
 then would seem to indicate, then we must expect 
 wars for many centuries to come, certainly until 
 the sense of right, of justice and of decency shall 
 have subdued or supplanted the animal passions 
 of our natures.
 
 Japan and Russia 
 
 The Japanese empire consists entirely of islands 
 just off the eastern coast of Asia. The full extent 
 of her territory in square miles is one hundred and 
 sixty-two thousand, six hundred and sixty-five, 
 just a trifle larger than our six New England 
 States with Pennsylvania and New York added. 
 All her islands are of volcanic origin and quite a 
 part of them are so mountainous and barren as 
 to be of no service in the support of her people. 
 And yet on this limited territory there are about 
 forty three millions of people, while the popula 
 tion of the eight states named does not exceed 
 twenty millions. In other words there are two 
 hundred and sixty-five people in Japan to every 
 square mile, while in said states there are about 
 one hundred and thirty-five. The Japanese are 
 small in stature as compared with the English 
 race. They live very largely on fruit, vegetables, 
 rice and dried fish, and yet, as plainly shown in 
 the war now raging, are equal, if not superior, to 
 the meat eating Eussian in bearing a soldier's 
 hardships and privations. 
 
 They have two kinds of religion. The one ac 
 cepted by the wealthy and ruling classes is called 
 Shintoism. As near as I can make out, its main 
 principles or doctrines consist very largely of 
 ancestor worship. The other is Buddhism, which 
 is the religion of the masses. It was imported 
 from China at an early date. It had its origin in 
 Hindostan about six centuries before the Chris 
 tian era. It had a founder to whom has been
 
 224 Letters-Essays 
 
 given the name Buddha. With his followers 
 Buddha holds about the same position as Christ 
 with Christian people. It is a world religion since 
 it has a greater following than any other, having 
 some four hundred million believers, or one- 
 third the population of the world. Their Biblical 
 writings consist of Chronicles found several 
 centuries ago written in Sanscrit and contain 
 many precepts or rules for living, similar to those 
 of our own Bible. Their main doctrine is that of 
 the transmigration of souls. When a person dies 
 his or her soul instantly takes on the form of 
 some animal or object in degree or rank accord 
 ing to his or her state of perfection. The soul of 
 the bad and relatively bad go into the bowels 
 of the earth to remain for a stated time, depend 
 ing on their degree of wickedness. 
 
 In the 'sixteenth century the Catholics secured 
 a footing in Japan and continued their proselyt 
 ing work for about a hundred years, when the 
 Japanese rose up for some reason and butchered 
 all their converts except those who escaped, some 
 five hundred thousand in all. This done, Japan 
 shut her ports to the outside world and remained 
 in total isolation from the world for over two hun 
 dred years. Thus she remained till 1854, when 
 Commodore Perry, making a tour of the world 
 with American warships, somehow got into her 
 main port, where he remained till he had gained 
 her friendly feeling and a treaty of reciprocal 
 intercourse and trade. Perry's salute broke the
 
 Japan and Russia 225 
 
 spell which had enthralled her for centuries. 
 Sleeping, she opened her eyes, and in fifty years, 
 only fifty, has climbed up to the position of a first- 
 class world power. 
 
 Not many years after Mr. Perry's visit, mis 
 sionaries of the Christian church began their 
 work again, which they have kept up to this 
 time with fair success, though it will take untold 
 ages, if it can ever be fully done, to replace their 
 crude religions with our own. If there be one 
 thing for which man of whatever race, blood or 
 clime is more tenacious than any other it is his 
 right and freedom to get into the next world in 
 just the way he chooses and believes will surely 
 get him there. Indeed, it is a very great con 
 cession where an ignorant and bigoted govern 
 ment or people will freely permit the devotees of 
 another and strange religion to come in and work 
 to displace their own. 
 
 The government with which Japan is contend 
 ing is one of the very oldest and strongest among 
 the great powers of the world. Eussia is an ab 
 solute and autocratic monarchy, and as such 
 should be dethroned. There is no occasion for 
 such a government, especially in such an old 
 country as Europe, in this day of liberty and en 
 lightenment. Her territory comprises eight mil 
 lion six hundred and sixty thousand square miles, 
 one-sixth of the land surface of the globe, or 
 about twice the size of the United States. Her 
 population is about one hundred and fifty million,
 
 226 Letters-Essays 
 
 or nearly four times that of Japan. Her religion 
 descended from the Greeks, and is commonly 
 known as the Graeco-Russian. The name given 
 to it officially, that is, the established religion, 
 is the Orthodox-Catholic, which accepts the 
 Judean Bible and Christ as the Saviour. The 
 church and state are tied and intertwined to 
 gether and have been for more than a thousand 
 years, to the injury of both and the great demoral 
 ization and degredation of the masses. 
 
 For some years we have been told by newspaper 
 correspondents, magazine writers and lecturers 
 a sad, pitiful and horrible story of the venality 
 and corruption of her official classes, of the ex 
 actions of her rulers, of the oppression and priva 
 tions of the masses, and so persistently that many 
 people, here in this country at least, look upon 
 the Russian government as a giant monster, with 
 out heart, without conscience or soul. Her nobil 
 ity and " blooded " classes are all over her do 
 minions, holding any and all offices to be filled. 
 They have the first right to all positions and 
 are exempt from tithes and taxes because of the 
 " blue blood " in their veins. 
 
 These titled aristocrats pretend to feel and be 
 lieve that they are sent here by God specially to 
 rule and live on the toil and sacrifice of the peo 
 ple, and, until within the last hundred years, had 
 but little trouble in making their benighted sub 
 jects believe it. But the day is coming, and it is 
 not far off either, when no one will believe it or
 
 Japan and Russia 227 
 
 submit to it. However, I suspect that the pri 
 vation, poverty and distress of her peasantry are 
 not so terrible as it has been pictured to us, 
 otherwise, now that a large part of her army has 
 been sent to the Far East, there would be upris 
 ings of the masses all over her dominions. We 
 have all been looking for revolts, but so far heard 
 of none. It may be that they are so crushed and 
 broken by a thousand years of tyranny and op 
 pression that, fearing an exile home in northern 
 Siberia, they dare not rise. Then, too, as we 
 know, a lieutenant with six disciplined men 
 backed by the government, can control a mob 
 of five thousand, as was shown in the Chicago 
 riots. 
 
 Really, we know but little of the actual con 
 dition of the masses in Russia. No one can get 
 in there or out without passports or giving an 
 account of himself, so fearful is the government 
 that revolts will be incited. Is that not a pretty 
 state of things? 
 
 Napoleon on the barren Isle of St. Helena, only 
 eighty-five years ago, dispirited and disconsolate, 
 awakened from one of his deep reveries, said that 
 he was studying Europe and its future, that, as 
 he saw it, " Europe would ultimately become all 
 Cossack or all Republican. ' ' Napoleon was a wise 
 man, but not quite wise enough to leave out the 
 word Cossack in . his prediction. Perhaps his 
 awful experience when invading Russia made him 
 overestimate her power to rule the world. It
 
 228 Letters-Essays 
 
 cannot be that the perfidy and venality of her 
 rulers throughout the empire were then anything 
 like what they are reported to be now, or he would 
 not, wise as he was, have predicted that she 
 would at some time rule all Europe. 
 
 As soon as the present war began, for some 
 unaccountable reason, unless it be that it is hu 
 man nature to sympathize with the smaller dog 
 in the fight, pretty nearly every one in this 
 country tendered his sympathy and moral sup 
 port to Japan, which they are still continuing to 
 do. Our officials at Washington and our mighty 
 manufacturers may, and perhaps justly, be 
 alarmed at a secure footing by Eussia in eastern 
 China for our trade and commerce. Could Rus 
 sia have carried out her designs or should she 
 yet in Manchuria, which is a province of the 
 Chinese empire and about three times the size 
 of this state, it would or will give her an almost 
 commanding position in that eastern world. 
 Japan is there and saw it. She is overcrowded 
 and must have room for her people. There is no 
 where for them to go except across the channel 
 to Corea, which is another province of China, 
 about the size of our New England states. In her 
 war with China, which she provoked or at least 
 invited in 1894-5, she won and China ceded Corea 
 to her. After it was done, Russia, Germany and 
 France made her cede it back and take a cash 
 indemnity instead, the payment of which Russia 
 guaranteed.
 
 Japan and Russia 229 
 
 France and Germany are giving Russia their 
 sympathy and moral support, and not only this, 
 but giving her cash for bonds to carry on the 
 war. England and our own country are doing 
 the same for Japan. If Russia succeeds in this 
 war it means a much earlier dismemberment of 
 China than if Japan succeeds. England and this 
 country seem disposed to put off this event as 
 far as possible. England, France and Germany 
 now control almost all of China's southern sea 
 ports and practically control her trade and com 
 merce in inland waters. 
 
 Poor China! Her doom is sealed. The great 
 powers would chop her up and divide her if they 
 could only get up a plausible excuse and agree 
 on a division. Japan nor Russia has a scintilla 
 of right to be over in Manchuria carrying on such 
 a war as they are waging. Each is doing it to 
 rob the third party of her territory. It is very 
 much as it would be were the states of New York 
 and Illinois to go to war and carry it on in Ohio. 
 Japan nor Russia is suffering the pains and hor 
 rors of war as yet like the poor and innocent 
 peasantry of Manchuria. The hell of war is 
 principally where war is. 
 
 But why do such a great per cent of our peo 
 ple sympathize with Japan and wish them suc 
 cess? When the war began most people thought 
 that Russia would whip Japan in three months. 
 Was it this feeling that excited our sympathy? 
 If so it should be on the wane now, since the Japs
 
 230 Letters-Essays 
 
 have won every battle except the last, when 
 honors were about even. 
 
 What Russia has most to dread, as I see it, is 
 internal discord and revolution. If the war 
 should continue for a considerable period, I doubt 
 very much if she can avert or suppress internal 
 revolt unless she at least grants to the people a 
 few of the ordinary rights and privileges en 
 joyed by civilized people in other governments. 
 May be that would be worth the cost. 
 
 Is there not as much to be feared in the su 
 premacy of the yellow race as in that of the Cos 
 sack f If Japan should win and be allowed by the 
 Christian governments to reap the full reward of 
 her victory she would and will in a few years 
 dominate all that section of the globe. She is a 
 potent factor there now. Her people are quite 
 numerous already in China. A large per cent, of 
 the officers in the Chinese army are Japanese. 
 Should she win and be allowed to have her way 
 it would not be half a century before she would 
 control absolutely the vast domain of the Chinese 
 empire, probably the richest section of the planet. 
 Should she once get that empire in her hands, 
 remain pagan and continue as relentless in war 
 as at present, what might she at a not distant 
 day say to all Europe? She would be supreme 
 mistress of all Asia. 
 
 When the war began the potentates of Russia 
 in full regalia went into the old and consecrated 
 cathedrals of Moscow and other cities, where their
 
 Japan and Russia 231 
 
 predecessors in office had gone on similar er 
 rands for more than a thousand years, and on 
 bended knee and in suppliant prayer communed 
 with God, or thought they did, asking and be 
 seeching his help to crush those meddlesome 
 pagan Japs. Whether they could reach Him 
 with such a prayer on their lips is certainly one 
 of grave doubt. However, they must have 
 thought that they had secured His help, for they 
 recklessly and incontinently went to war, evi 
 dently relying more on Him than on proper prep 
 aration and thus far have been terribly beaten. 
 
 On the other hand, the poor, benighted Japs 
 went into their pagan temples and as fervently 
 prayed and implored their images of Deity to 
 help them to take deadly aim at every Russian's 
 heart, and thus far they have shot well. But can 
 it be that their aim was helped by their prayers 
 or that God would help a pagan people to de 
 stroy a Christian, saying nothing of the question 
 of right f It must be conceded, I think, by every 
 one outside Russia and Japan that neither of 
 them is in the right. Each is seeking to steal 
 and take a large territory from China. In such 
 a struggle it would hardly seem that God would 
 help either, even if approached by a million daily 
 prayers. 
 
 There are vast numbers of women, at least 
 Christian women, and a great many men, whose 
 natures are so gentle, sympathetic and loving that 
 they cannot see why wars should be or why God
 
 232 Letters-Essays 
 
 permits them, nor would they believe that He 
 ever had or does, were it not for the Book of 
 Joshua in our own Bible, where we are told that 
 He directed Joshua " to lay thee an ambush " 
 that he might fall upon his enemy unawares, and 
 caused the sun to stand still in the midst of 
 heaven about a whole day that he (Joshua) 
 might slaughter and avenge himself upon his 
 enemies. 
 
 The slaughter and butchering, suffering and 
 anguish that have taken place during the past 
 eight months is something awful, something ap 
 palling, surpassing anything in all modern war 
 fare at least, if not in all history. Since the Japs 
 have been victorious in every engagement from 
 the start, does it not tend to show that if prayer 
 be efficacious in war that God helps those in the 
 right, though they be pagan! 
 
 NOTE The war began in or about March, 1904, and 
 continued with unrelenting and unceasing fury, bloody and 
 terrible, till the summer of 1905, when, through the good 
 offices of our own President Roosevelt, Russia and Japan 
 each sent three delegates to a Convention which sat at 
 Portsmouth, N. H., in August, 1905, and in the first days of 
 September perfected a treaty or terms of peace. The Japs 
 were victorious in every engagement except one, and that was 
 a drawn battle.
 
 XCbe Spiber anfc flfoan 
 
 Us flIMgbt a Divine principle Governing 
 animal Xife? 
 
 UST outside my window and parallel with 
 and close to the glass a spider has spun 
 his web with the art of the weaver, the 
 skill of the mechanic and the design 
 of a civil engineer. There are spokes or radii ex 
 tending from a small circle in the center, which 
 are securely attached to the sash, round about 
 which they are made fast and taut. Begin 
 ning at the center and extending outward for 
 some six inches are circular or cross lines extend 
 ing from each spoke or arm to the next and com 
 pleting the circle. These cross lines are securely 
 attached to the spokes and made taut, giving the 
 web as a whole an octagonal appearance. As 
 every one has seen these webs, and as most of 
 us have deeply wondered many times over the 
 skill and mechanism shown in their building, I 
 do not need to be more specific in my description 
 of them for the purposes which I have in mind.
 
 234 Letters-Essays 
 
 Sitting at my desk I cannot look out upon the 
 river and fields and feast my eyes, and through 
 them by a mysterious agency, my consciousness, 
 without viewing and watching this Ajax at his 
 work. Seeing that he has plan, method, ability 
 to adapt means to his ends, ceaseless and eternal 
 vigilance and a cruel and murderous impulse, 
 has awakened in me a train of thought not alto 
 gether pleasing or beautiful perhaps, yet so 
 potent and suggestive as to put me into a deep, 
 meditative mood. 
 
 Who taught him how to spin and weave the 
 web, how to build the net with so much skill and 
 precision in mechanism, out in space, without 
 ladder or staging, to make the threads taut and 
 to tie them to the sash and to one another se 
 curely? Do the older spiders teach their young 
 how to do these things, as man is required and 
 compelled to teach his young with great and 
 tedious patience! Does nature or God endow 
 them with all these qualities on creation or do 
 they slowly come to them as a necessity from 
 their needs, condition and environments? There 
 are many species of spider and many classes of 
 each specie scattered over the world. Did they 
 all spring from one stem or was there a special 
 creation for each class or specie? Did Noah take 
 him and his spouse into the ark? 
 
 Though these questions arise to me as I con 
 template this demon at his work, I do not ask 
 them for the purpose of answering them for I
 
 The Spider and Man 235 
 
 cannot. Man in his complacency, all importance 
 and self sufficiency, does not see and cannot un 
 derstand why they were made at all or what 
 useful office or purpose they serve in life. He 
 thinks, and not only thinks but knows, that this 
 planet was made for him, and he cannot make 
 out why tigers, wolves, snakes, spiders, flies, 
 mosquitoes, gnats, etc., were sent here to live with, 
 to pester and annoy him. The coming of all 
 these animals, especially those that are ferocious 
 and a terror to man, greatly perplexed and 
 troubled all thinking men from the earliest 
 times of recorded thought, particularly after 
 Christianity had gained sway, and much more so 
 in those early days than it has thinking men in 
 more recent times, though it is still an annoying 
 problem. 
 
 For many centuries it was stoutly maintained 
 by the clergy and others that their coming, feroc 
 ity and poisonous bite were a direct visitation 
 upon man for his transgressions. John Wesley, 
 the father of Methodism, as late >as the sixteenth 
 century, affirmed that until the fall of man the 
 spider was as innocent and harmless as a fly. Sci 
 ence has long since dissipated all such nonsense. 
 Scientific research and study have in very recent 
 years pretty securely established the doctrine of 
 the unity of all animal life. Even Count Tolstoi, 
 the great Eussian philosopher and religious 
 writer, has just issued a volume supporting this 
 proposition to which he has added its sacredness.
 
 236 Letters-Essays 
 
 They are here and by right, since surely the same 
 force or power which brought forth man created 
 them. The life they bear is as great a mystery 
 and wonder as is that of which man so proudly 
 boasts. The principle of life in the spider is just 
 as insoluble as in man, just as subtle and mysteri 
 ous, and for aught that I can see, considering his 
 abilities, his life and conduct, just about as gentle 
 and humane. 
 
 But why did he build that mechanical web so 
 admirably adapted for his uses? Did he con 
 struct it as a home? No, not at all. He needs 
 shelter as well as man, at least in this climate. 
 Watch him and you will see his home is in a 
 crevice in the casing of the window. Thump 
 the glass when he is out on his " preserve " and 
 he instantly rushes over the web and up one of 
 the long arms, never mistaking the right one, 
 to his shelter, his hiding, his home. The web does 
 not adhere to or tangle his feet, no matter how 
 swiftly he goes over it. Why not? Let any 
 other insect try it and there is a tragedy. Who 
 designed his feet and what is their peculiarity 
 that the web should not stick to them as it does 
 to everything else? Do his feet exude an oil 
 that prevents, or is it due to their construction? 
 
 But why the web at the cost of so much toil 
 and labor? Watch matters for a little and we 
 will learn. We cannot see him. He is back in 
 the casing, but not sleeping. Whether he watches 
 the web with his eyes or holds one of its threads
 
 The Spider and Man 237 
 
 in his hands to tell him of any disturbance I do 
 not know. A fly, fooled by the glass which he does 
 not see, and thinking the window an open way, 
 sails into the web in his flight. The instant he 
 touches the web, he is caught and, weak and 
 puerile as is his tiny brain and intelligence, he 
 seems to know that it means murder to him. How 
 he struggles to get away, and the more he strug 
 gles the more he becomes entangled. Quick as 
 a flash out from his hiding comes the black and 
 cruel demon, and with lightning speed rushes 
 upon him. Fastening his jaws, he quietly holds 
 him till life ebbs slowly away, when he winds him 
 with web for future consumption. If the fly was 
 a strong one and did much damage to the web, 
 the spider repairs it before retreating to his lair. 
 If not, he goes at once to watch and await another 
 victim, and thus the slaughter of one day follows 
 another through the warm season, when he dis 
 appears. What becomes of him or how he lives 
 through the winter I do not know. Whether he 
 can hibernate or whether he salts his victims 
 down as man does pork for winter use I cannot 
 answer. 
 
 How we, especially women, hate him! The 
 cruel, nasty thing, the latter cry out as they rush 
 for a broom with which to sweep him and his web 
 out of doors. Is our contempt due to his native 
 ugliness, murderous life, reputation for having 
 a poisonous bite or to his web, clean in itself, yet 
 in our homes an evidence of laziness and sloth-
 
 238 Letters-Essays 
 
 fulness in the housekeeper since time began? 
 Probably our hatred of him is due to all these, 
 yet how silly and ridiculous, foolish and absurd 
 for Christian man to harbor ill will and feeling 
 toward him on account of his living by murder. 
 
 The same power or agency that endowed man 
 with his superior intelligence gave him the ap 
 paratus to spin the thread and the ability to 
 weave the web and for the express purpose of 
 ensnaring weaker insects that he might get a liv 
 ing in this cold and cruel world. For us to criti 
 cise his mode of life is to impugn the great cre 
 ative force which we attribute to nature or to 
 God. And since we cannot solve or even under 
 stand the mystery of our own life, it surely would 
 be silly and even contemptuous to charge that 
 the spider's life or way of living is purposeless 
 or wrong. 
 
 No, we cannot do that and for other reasons 
 than the common origin of the spider and man. 
 Cruel, pitiless and merciless warfare seems to 
 have been the design in the creation of animal life 
 from the beginning. To live has been and still is 
 one eternal struggle among them. One animal 
 seems to have been designed and created as food 
 for another. About half of the animal creation is 
 herbivorous, non-combative, weak in self-defense 
 and the common prey and food of their stronger 
 and more voracious associates. Why it is so or 
 should be so we do not understand. It seems to 
 be and I am tempted to say is cruel and wicked,
 
 The Spider and Man 239 
 
 heartless, awful. Why should one animal be 
 chased, hounded, killed and eaten by another, 
 and that other in turn by a superior? From the 
 jungles of India, Africa, South America to our 
 own land and times, even as in the sea, also, this 
 ferocious, bitter and eternal struggle has been 
 and is still going on. If it be that all redounds to 
 man, why so many venomous and poisonous rep 
 tiles, flies, mosquitoes, gnats, etc., that pester him, 
 fierce and voracious animals of which he is afraid, 
 none of which are a food or of any use to him? 
 Indeed, they kill and eat other animals that are 
 of use and a food for man. Until man developed 
 sufficiently to construct traps and invent firearms 
 the struggle between him and the more ferocious 
 animals must have been about equal. 
 
 But if this game of warfare be all for the 
 service of man, why were all those animals that 
 were designed for eating by others given a nerv 
 ous system and filled with a longing to live and 
 love for their young? Why were they not made 
 dull and stupid, so that they would not have fear 
 or concern at being eaten? That surely would 
 have been a kindness to them. As it is they all 
 love their young, long to live, dread and fear 
 their enemies most sincerely, pathetically and 
 earnestly. For aught we can see these qualities 
 in them do not differ materially from the same 
 qualities in men except it be in degree and there 
 may be honest doubt as to that. See the fox or 
 rabbit routed from his retreat by a Christian and
 
 240 Letters-Essays 
 
 his dog. Is lie not afraid? Does he not know 
 what it means if he is caught? Does he not want 
 to live? How he runs and bounds! How swiftly 
 he turns as he is about to be caught! What a 
 sight, says the hunter! His blood is as hot as the 
 dogs and there is not much, if any, difference in 
 their feelings. Why this thirst in the man at 
 least to catch and to kill! If it be a rabbit it 
 will be thrown aside. If a fox, the skin may be 
 taken, but the hunter could have earned twice its 
 value at some honest labor. 
 
 Nature, after creating one animal to eat an 
 other, seems to have had some remorse for the 
 act, since she helps nearly all weaker animals to 
 hide from their enemies. The coat of the deer, 
 rabbit and other animals changes with the sea 
 sons to make them less observable. Here we see 
 nature trying to help them, to save them from 
 enemies she has placed among them. Nevertheless 
 it is an act of pure pity and sympathy. She 
 would not after all be entirely cruel and heart 
 less. Perhaps it was necessary to have all these 
 ferocious animals and perhaps, in the adjustment 
 of things, she could do no more for the weaker 
 ones. 
 
 And what shall I say of man along these lines? 
 Is he, too, a spider in his murderous proclivities ? 
 Does he build a web to ensnare his associate ani 
 mals ? Does he take their life and eat their flesh ? 
 If so, is he less murderous than the spider and 
 tiger? If so, is not the act purely on a par with
 
 The Spider and Man 241 
 
 that of the spider and tiger? In India the tiger 
 captures and lugs away in his jaws to his den 
 and his young several hundred people annually. 
 He sees no wrong in this. He would as soon eat 
 a man as a calf. Ages ago when tigers were 
 plenty and men had no weapons of defense but 
 a club, they were no doubt eaten by thousands. 
 To us it appears appalling, awful; but he takes 
 them as food and by reason of his might, which 
 seems to be the law, or should I say rule, govern 
 ing all life, not excepting man. Man on the other 
 hand is not content with slaughter for food alone, 
 though his killing for this purpose is something 
 which staggers even the imagination and causes 
 us to shudder. On every farm in all our land, 
 slaughter of various animals takes place, while 
 in a single packing house of the many in the west, 
 five thousand cattle, sheep and swine are daily 
 driven to the block. If you cannot go to Chicago 
 to witness that awful slaughter or do not wish to 
 do so, you can step into any of the thousands of 
 meat shops in all the villages of this land and get 
 a little idea of the fearful taking of life that is 
 going on. They are dumb, we say and do not 
 mind being killed. Dumb they may be, that is, 
 they cannot speak our language, but they have 
 utterances of affection for their young, of fear for 
 their enemies and of anger. Dumb they may be, 
 but they, at least the cattle, know as they are 
 forced and prodded with spikes in the end of 
 poles up the gangway to the butcher that some-
 
 242 Letters-Essays 
 
 thing terrible at least awaits them. How some 
 of them bellow and struggle to turn back! Even 
 the thought of so much slaughter is horrifying 
 to most women and to some men. It is to me, and 
 I could not do it unless possibly I was starving, 
 and I think I would starve rather than to kill a 
 lamb with a knife. Many pictures of Jesus have 
 Him with a lamb in His arms or with lambs fol 
 lowing Him. Why? Because they are so gentle 
 and docile and look to man for protection and 
 because they are the common prey of all voracious 
 animals. 
 
 I confess, and I say it regretfully, that I eat 
 meat myself, but seldom since I was grown up 
 without misgivings as to my real right to do so. 
 When I ask myself what abstract right I have 
 to 'take other lives to feed my own I cannot 
 answer, except the ever handy one of might. 
 And yet I do it as do all those about me. That 
 does not make it right, but it is a mighty help to 
 those whose consciences are pricking them. I 
 know I could live and live well, that is, thrive 
 and prosper, without it, for I have known peo 
 ple who did. As fine a family of father, mother, 
 son and daughter as I have known for size, health 
 ful appearance and endurance lived on an adjoin 
 ing farm when I was a boy, and never ate meat. 
 There are many others scattered here and there 
 over the country who do not, some of whom are 
 athletes. 
 
 More than half the people of the world do not
 
 The Spider and Man 243 
 
 kill other animals for food. The sacred books 
 of the Buddhist forbid the eating of meat, which 
 is religiously followed by the vast numbers of 
 that faith. The Japanese, who are fast reaching 
 a first-class power position in the world, if they 
 have not already done so, are not a meat eating 
 people. Thus we see and know that meat is not 
 a necessity for physical vigor or national growth. 
 Is it not consoling and comforting to find one 
 of the great religions of the world disapproving 
 and forbidding murder by man for food? Do they 
 not in so doing honor and glorify man by taking 
 him out of the list -of animals, most of which live 
 only by killing another, and place him on a higher 
 plane? 
 
 Viewed in any way we please, this bitter and 
 eternal warfare going on amongst all animals from 
 the ant up to the lion and even man, is more 
 inexplicable as to man than it is as to any or all 
 other forms of animal life. With him so highly 
 gifted and endowed beyond that of any other 
 species of animal, I cannot keep back the thought 
 that he ought or should in some way live differ 
 ently from the lower animals and practice a dif 
 ferent means and mode of living. On the con 
 trary he does not, and is in the melee of murder 
 with the others and the worst butcherer of all. 
 Not satisfied with killing as they do for food, un 
 like them he wantonly kills for what he calls 
 sport and amusement. Notwithstanding he is the 
 only one in the lot created hi the image of the
 
 244 Letters-Essays 
 
 Father and the only one possessing an immortal 
 soul, as many believe, yet, strange and singular 
 as it is, is the only one that deliberately plans 
 and wages systematic and organized warfare on 
 his own species. No other animal, so far as I read, 
 does this. They seem to have too much respect 
 or love, or whatever it may be called, for their 
 own kind to do this. But man, apparently, has 
 none. With all his endowments, divine and men 
 tal, he organizes vast armies, invades another peo 
 ple 's territory and with torch and gun robs and 
 steals, destroys and kills, not directly for food, 
 but for glory, territory and cussedness. It would 
 seem as a plain proposition that civilized men at 
 least with their glorious endowments should be 
 above such brutality. 
 
 The poet, whose name I regret that I am un 
 able to give, has well phrased this propensity, or 
 should I say weakness, in man in the following 
 lines : 
 
 " The Falcon, poised on trembling wing 
 " Watches the wild duck by the spring. 
 " The slow Hound wakes the fox's lair, 
 11 The Greyhound presses on the Hare. 
 ' ' Even Tiger fell and sullen Bear 
 11 Their likeness and their lineage spare, 
 " Man, only, mars kind Nature's plan 
 " And turns his fierce pursuit on man." 
 If the great fundamental principle governing 
 animal life is might, then to the victor in the 
 struggle belongs the spoils and there is no place
 
 The Spider and Man 245 
 
 for pity. He who can kill another by skill, strat 
 egy or superior power, if that be true, has a 
 moral right to the body of the defeated as food. 
 To isome the mere thought of such a doctrine as 
 a moral principal is revolting. If it be sound, 
 then there is nothing wrong in the life of the 
 spider or in that of the tiger rushing away over 
 the hills with a woman or child in its jaws. If 
 it be not sound, why should there be so many 
 fierce and voracious animals who cannot live ex 
 cept they kill, and why so many weak and de 
 fenseless animals? If it be not sound how can 
 we justify this fearful and awful slaughter by 
 man. 
 
 If needs it must be that this butchery by man 
 be intended and right, then surely it should never 
 be 'accompanied by pain or torture. Surely man 
 can afford to kill " kindly and humanely " since 
 their lives, sweet to them, are forcibly taken that 
 he may feast and continue his own.
 
 H flfcerican Bull 
 
 N our trip to California we stopped a day 
 at El Paso, Texas. I cannot just tell 
 why we did, and after doing so have 
 been unable to discover the reason. 
 Really, I suppose, it was due to the fact that we 
 heard so many fellow excursionists saying that 
 they were going to do so. It is a cheap, dusty, 
 dirty, " razzle-dazzle " city of some thirty 
 thousand people, but is a great railroad centre. 
 Fully one-half the houses are one story, flat 
 roofed, and built of adobe brick. 
 
 One of the first things that caught our eyes 
 were large placards on the street cars giving the 
 notice of a bull fight the next day, Sunday. We 
 were both surprised and pained to learn that such 
 a pastime should take place on God's holy day. 
 The women of our party were fairly wild in their 
 denunciation of bull fights at all and especially 
 on Sunday. I wish I could give a part of what 
 they said, but it came, as usual, so fast and alto 
 gether that I see I have lost it all, except " terri 
 ble, cruel, wicked, horrible." 
 
 Wishing to set foot on Mexico, we took the 
 street car and went over the Rio Grande River to
 
 A Mexican Bull Fight 247 
 
 Juarez, a mile or so distant. Reaching there, we 
 soon saw a great, white circular building, which 
 somehow we all knew to be the bull ring. It must 
 be 'two hundred feet in diameter, with an outside 
 wall twenty-five feet in height, with a rising roof 
 extending inward only far enough to cover the 
 circle of seats. Some of us thought we would go 
 down and look it over and let that suffice. As 
 we were about to enter the stables adjoining the 
 bull ring to see the horses and bulls that were to 
 be used the following day, we were startled by 
 familiar voices, ' ' Hold on, we want to go in, too. ' ' 
 Looking back, we were not only surprised but 
 startled to find those who had most loudly de 
 cried against bull fighting, on the run to get in 
 to see the animals. We chided them, laughed at 
 them. They were a little disconcerted and ex 
 cused themselves by saying, " We wouldn't see 
 a bull fight for anything, but there can be no harm 
 in taking a look at tihe animals." As the first 
 door was opened, we beheld the horses, poor, 
 long-haired, emaciated, worthless and so weak as 
 to be barely able to stand. Two of us turned 
 back and would go no further. Those who hur 
 ried up to get in went on to see the bulls. The 
 arena where the fighting is done is circular in 
 form, about 'one hundred feet in diameter, with 
 a hard, smooth dirt floor. A board fence six feet 
 high encircles this. A low bench is on the inside 
 at the foot >of the fence to enable the fighters, in 
 case of urgent necessity, to spring over it. Back
 
 248 Letters-Essays 
 
 of the fence, some five or six feet, is a circular 
 concrete wall, on which rests the foot of the ris 
 ing and receding seats, leaving a space of five 
 feet for helpers to go about between the board 
 fence and concrete wall and into which the ani 
 mals would go should they jump the fence. In 
 side the fighting arena and about equi-distant in 
 the circle of it are four " safety places " behind 
 which the men can instantly run in case of neces 
 sity, which is every now and then. Only one 
 of these is shown in the picture. They are 
 strongly built of plank, stand five feet high, six 
 feet long, in from the encircling fence about fif 
 teen inches, open at either end, giving the men 
 just room to run in freely. There is no roof over 
 the arena, making it about as light as day. The 
 seats, rising quite abruptly, are of concrete and 
 cold to sit upon. The amphitheater, including 
 gallery, will easily seat three thousand people. 
 
 This visit on Saturday was thought to be all 
 that any of us would see of the bull fight, but 
 somehow as the time, 4 P. M., Sunday, ap 
 proached, two of us strolling away for a little 
 walk, finding ourselves free, hastily stepped on 
 a car and were off for the bull fight. Neither of 
 us had any heart for the ordeal, but somehow 
 were impelled on, out of curiosity I am sure. The 
 motive was certainly not for pleasure, for we 
 feared all the way that it would be even sicken 
 ing to us. And yet we went on. A band was 
 playing just outside. Some five hundred people
 
 A Mexican Bull Fight 249 
 
 came in and took seats, nearly one-half being ex 
 cursionists like ourselves, with a fair per cent, of 
 well dressed ladies. In a few cases they had with 
 them bright, tasty, little boys and girls. This 
 fact greatly assured me. I thought if those fine 
 women and innocent little girls could stand it I 
 ought to be able to do so. 
 
 A spirited bull with long sharp horns was let 
 in through a doorway in the fence from an alley 
 way under the seats leading back to the stables. 
 He was indeed a sleek, trim and most nimble and 
 agile fellow. As he came in he was, of course, 
 amazed and more or less bewildered by the peo 
 ple rising before him on all sides. His head was 
 high. He would stand and look for a moment, 
 and then suddenly turn and trot to the other side 
 with a majestic step, as if saying, " Come what 
 may, I am ready, I defy you. ' ' The thought that 
 came to us was that the men who went in there 
 to fight him would have to be on their guard all 
 the while, and very quick and nimble on their 
 feet, besides possessing much nerve. 
 
 I doubt if the bull had been fed for twenty- 
 four hours or more, being so sleek and so slim. 
 After giving him the freedom of the ring for a 
 few minutes two of those poor, famished, half- 
 dead horses were led in, blindfolded and mounted 
 by two boys with white pants and jockey caps. 
 Why they were blindfolded was more than I can 
 make out. Though the bull should come at them, 
 even on a walk, the poor horses were too near dead
 
 250 Letters-Essays 
 
 to step aside, much less to run. I really felt 
 sorry for the boys to be put upon the backs of 
 such rack-a-bones, and I wondered if they were 
 not. Since they do it every Sunday and for pay, 
 I suppose they have got used to it and do not 
 mind it. 
 
 Mounted, they prodded and spurred the poor 
 horses about the ring, but they could not get them 
 into even a jog, beyond that of a few steps even 
 from pain of spurs. The bull did not mind them 
 and would step one side as they blindly ap 
 proached him. 
 
 Presently six matadors (bull fighters) walked 
 into the arena and marched across it, two abreast, 
 empty handed, dressed in close fitting clothes, 
 velvet frock or coat with loose sleeves, knee pants 
 with a yellow stripe down the 'side of the pant leg, 
 white socks and tan shoes. They evidently 
 thought they were pretty ' * slick ' ' and the great 
 admiration of all. They were all young men, not 
 above medium size, well limbed and, I judged, 
 all Mexicans. The bull did not mind them any 
 more than he did the horses. It was at once ap 
 parent that he would have to be teased and forced, 
 wild as he looked, into a fighting mood. 
 
 Soon after their entrance some waiter boys 
 handed them some small blankets, over the fence, 
 of a dark color. Each matador took one and they 
 spread about the ring, one going to the bull di 
 rectly in front. The bull stood and looked at 
 him wondering what the shaking of the blanket
 
 A Mexican Bull Fight 251 
 
 in his face meant. Gradually he lowered his head 
 near 'to the ground, making ready to rush at the 
 blanket. It was the blanket -and not the man that 
 was angering him. The matador was watching 
 him every moment, and in a slightly bent posture 
 that he might the more readily spring to one side 
 the instant he made a lunge. When the bull did 
 rush forward he kept his head down trying to horn 
 the blanket. The matador would simply step one 
 side or run in a circle, dragging and shaking the 
 blanket behind him. Another matador then would 
 rush in shaking his blanket and taking the bull's 
 attention. During this performance the bull on 
 coming to a horse standing, as they did after the 
 performance began, would raise his head and walk 
 around him. 
 
 The bull not showing sufficient fighting spirit, 
 the matadors began throwing spears into his 
 shoulders as he would rush by them, to enrage 
 him. The first ones thrown were a round stick, 
 ten inches long with a metal spear in the end and 
 a ribbon attached, so the spectators could see 
 them. 
 
 These not producing the desired fighting spirit, 
 they began throwing heavier sticks with longer 
 spears in them into his shoulder. In a short time 
 quite a number were sticking fast in his shoul 
 ders. The bull was prancing about lively and so 
 were the matadors. The blood was flowing freely 
 down the bull's shoulders and legs. As a heavy 
 spear or dart would enter his shoulder he would
 
 252 Letters-Essays 
 
 shake his head, bellow piteously, paw the ground, 
 and chase the men, or, rather the blanket, which 
 they ever kept tantalizingly before him. He was 
 getting mad with rage. It was a lively battle. 
 
 The poor horses, after the battle began, stood 
 nearly all the while facing the centre awaiting the 
 bull to plunge his horns into them. The boys on 
 the horses, I noticed, did their best to face the 
 bull. It was not so dangerous to them to have 
 the attack come in front, and, very likely, that 
 was the real reason for blindfolding them. Be 
 coming enraged and wild from pain, unable to 
 catch the men, the bull, reaching a horse, drove 
 his horns into the horse's breast between his fore 
 legs, lifting him high in the air. The matadors 
 came rushing up with their blankets to take the 
 bull away that the rider, who was thrown off, 
 might not be hurt, and the horse be quickly led 
 outside the fence before he should die. Poor as 
 they were, the blood flowed copiously. It was 
 horrible and actually sickening. I remember 
 seeing the bull about to attack the first horse, but 
 I cannot recall anything further in that tragedy, 
 nor does James A. Cox, who was with me. I must 
 have 'hidden my face. When I looked again there 
 was but one horse, and that I saw killed as just 
 stated. 
 
 Bot>h horses gone, the fight went on even more 
 vigorously than before, the matadors evidently 
 doing their best to tire the bull, and this they 
 were certainly doing. There being six of them,
 
 A Mexican Bull Fight 253 
 
 they had a great advantage, each taking his turn 
 in teasing and vexing the bull. Enraged beyond 
 endurance, he would chase a man for some dis 
 tance furiously, and, had it not been for those 
 safety boxes, some of them would have got hurt. 
 Against them tlie bull often went with full might, 
 striking the plank with great force with his horns, 
 looking and wondering where the man had gone. 
 He had settled down out of sight. In such cases 
 and in all cases other matadors would rush up 
 with their blankets. It is the number of matadors 
 and the bull's dullness in chasing the blankets 
 that enables the men to win. If the bull could 
 hold his head up and pay no attention to the 
 blankets, and chase the man he is after till he 
 caught him or drove him into the safety box, 
 there would be a good many dead matadors, and 
 I would not care if there were.* 
 
 In fact, I often thought that it would almost 
 be a pleasure to have the bull horn one of them. 
 On one occasion the matador foolishly ran straight 
 ahead from the bull. The bull caught his lifted 
 foot and threw him, but the other matadors, ever 
 on hand with their blankets to help one another, 
 took the bull 's attention and saved him. 
 
 * Confirming my opinion, I notice by the papers that on 
 February 3d, 1907, they attempted to use a wild buffalo, that 
 he was frightened by the blankets and jumped the' encircling 
 fence. He was brought back into the arena, but would 
 not chase or fight the matadors with blankets, though ready 
 to fight them if they had no blankets. Neither the jeers nor 
 cries of the audience, nor the pleadings of the proprietors 
 could induce the matadors to fight the bull without blankets, 
 sometimes called capes. People went to the box office and 
 got their admission fee paid back to them.
 
 254 Letters-Essays 
 
 All this teasing, nagging, running and fighting 
 had two objects, first to entertain the audience, 
 and second, to greatly tire the bull. When the 
 latter had been sufficiently accomplished, a mata 
 dor who had been selected to do the great act of 
 killing, was handed a small, deep red blanket 
 and a sword, with a straight, pointed blade, two 
 feet in length. With these he stepped up close 
 in front of the tired bull, holding the blanket in 
 both hands, the hilt of the sword in his right 
 hand, the blade laying across the blanket. As 
 before, he enraged the bull into a lunge at the 
 blanket, the matador simply stepping to the left. 
 This was repeated several times and I began to 
 wonder what he was trying to accomplish. I 
 afterwards learned that it was considered a great 
 feat to kill a bull at the first stroke, and so the 
 matador does not strike till his balance and the 
 bull's position as he rushes by are favorable. 
 The sword enters the body near the top of the 
 bull's right shoulder and takes a nearly perpen 
 dicular course. 
 
 The first thrust at this time nearly entered to 
 the hilt, but it did not hit the heart, though it 
 pained the bull fearfully. His tongue was out 
 and he bellowed with pain piteously, throwing 
 his head furiously against his shoulder, turning 
 about in his struggles for relief, till he worked 
 the sword up and out of his body, when it fell 
 upon the ground. 
 
 Again the nagging was repeated the same as
 
 A Mexican Bull Fight 255 
 
 before. The next stroke only entered a few 
 inches, striking a bone and at once falling to the 
 ground. At this the Mexicans ejaculated a cry 
 which I at first thought was commendation, but 
 soon learned was derision. The nagging was 
 again repeated and on the third thrust it was in 
 stantly apparent that the sword had touched the 
 heart and relieved him of his misery. His head 
 went up, bellowed a little, twitched all over, stag 
 gered and fell over dead. Some men promptly 
 appeared with a span of horses and drew him 
 out. 
 
 There were four 'other bulls to kill in the same 
 way and I suppose two decrepit old horses with 
 each bull. Mr. Cox and I had seen enough and 
 more than enough. It would have taken a consid 
 erable consideration to have hired me to see the 
 performance to the end. 
 
 Some of the finely dressed women of whom I 
 have spoken and all the little girls began sob 
 bing and crying when the bull was killing the 
 horses, and had to be led out of the arena. I 
 do not wonder that they did. It was all I could 
 do to witness it. In fact, I did not see it all, 
 many times having to hide my face behind the 
 back of a gentleman who sat next to me. Several 
 times I felt sure I would have to leave, but was 
 determined to witness one act and did. 
 
 It is horrible, awful. I cannot understand how 
 or why any civilized government permits it. We 
 wended our way back to the hotel in a different
 
 256 Letters-Essays 
 
 mood from that in which we went. When we 
 reached the hotel all divined where we had been, 
 and, to our great surprise, nearly all wished to 
 get the full particulars. Isn't it strange that 
 anyone should ? And still I am writing them. 
 
 And then to think that this bull ring should 
 be erected within eighty rods of an old mission, 
 now called a Cathedral, built in 1598. Is it not 
 strange, indeed, that these two should stand so 
 close together? Is it not surprising that any 
 one should have the audacity to bring such a 
 brutal arena into the precincts of a house teach 
 ing the precepts of Christ? Standing there so 
 long as it has, one would expect the very air, for 
 at least a mile distant, to be so glorified and 
 sanctified that it would be impossible to install 
 a bull ring within that radius. The thought of it 
 is enough to make the soul verily cry out, 
 " What manner of animal is man? " However, 
 the managers are considerate enough to wait till 
 after church service for the bull fight, but I fear 
 the real reason is more due to cupidity than piety.
 
 Some Sketches of California 
 
 N our visit to the State in March and 
 April, 1905, we entered it at Yuma, its 
 southeastern point, and went directly to 
 Riverside, about fifty miles east from 
 Los Angeles. The territory over which we 
 passed from Yuma to near Riverside comes the 
 nearest to a desert of anything that can be found 
 on this continent. I am safe in saying this, for 
 nothing can excel it in sickliness and barrenness. 
 It is a vast, dead level sea, an ocean bed of yellow 
 sand, or rather mud, on either side of the train 
 as far as the eye can see, and on which not a tree, 
 shrub or tuft of grass or anything green grows. 
 It is desolation complete. A recent rain had laid 
 the dust, which otherwise, I am told, would have 
 about suffocated us in the cars. There were 
 great gulches every now and then, cut out by rain 
 or overflow in the past, which had perpendicular 
 walls, showing that the sand, dirt or whatever it 
 is, has great consistency. 
 
 The state is very mountainous indeed; in fact, 
 they were always in evidence from any point 
 which we visited in the state. None that I saw 
 had any trees or timber on them. As you look
 
 258 Letters-Essays 
 
 at them they appear grey or yellow, with a lit 
 tle low shrub 'or bush scattered here and there. 
 There are two ranges of mountains extending 
 north and south 'through the state. Between 
 these mountains are valleys, which are rich in 
 alluvial deposit, needing 'only rain or irrigation 
 to make them exceedingly productive. These 
 bottom lands vary, of course, in size all the way 
 from a few acres to thousands of acres. The San 
 Joaquin, pronounced San Waukeen, is of im 
 mense size and extends from near Los Angeles 
 to Sacramento. But little is grown or raised in 
 the way of crops in the state, from its southern 
 boundary to north of San Francisco, except by 
 irrigation, and this does not extend beyond the 
 villages and small cities to exceed a mile or two. 
 
 The soil products of the state are almost en* 
 tirely in the line of fruit, grown in and about the 
 villages and small cities, reached by irrigation. 
 The climate of the state, through the winter 
 months at least, is most magnificent. In the 
 souitihern half, I am told, that during the sum 
 mer months it becomes excessively warm, dry 
 and dusty except at points on the ocean shore, 
 where the ocean breezes make it delightful. 
 
 In some places irrigation is brought about by 
 artesian wells, but in most cases water is pro 
 cured by great reservoirs back in the mountains 
 and conveyed in great pipes to the points to be 
 irrigated. These wells and reservoirs are owned 
 by corporations which sell the water to residents.
 
 The City of Riverside 259 
 
 gardeners and agriculturalists, the latter paying 
 nine dollars per acre per annum. 
 
 The main and most prolific crop of the state 
 is an ' ' animal ' ' called the tourist. They abound 
 and are found everywhere, and during the winter 
 season they must nearly equal the native popu 
 lation. Next to the tourist in the way of crops 
 are oranges, lemons, walnuts, grapes, peaches, 
 apricots, prunes and flowers in great abundance. 
 
 be dtp of IRivereifce 
 
 Is a new, tasty, clean, little city of eight thou 
 sand people, with wide and clean asphalt streets, 
 and well 'built, modern buildings. In fact, next 
 to Pasadena we found it as delightful a place 
 as any which we visited in the state. It is suf 
 ficiently distant from Los Angeles to do a good 
 business in the way of mercantile trade, and there 
 fore has fine shops and stores. It is the center of 
 the orange production of the state. From there, 
 six thousand cars of oranges are annually shipped 
 to the East, about one-fifth of the product of the 
 entire state. From this city we took a sixteen 
 mile drive through the groves in and surrounding 
 the city. It was a charming and delightful trip. 
 On many roads the palm, magnolia, eucalyptus, 
 pepper and acacia trees line the roads. The orange 
 trees are in door yards, gardens and small and 
 large orchards. When we were there the orange 
 trees were in full foliage and more or less laden
 
 260 Letters-Essays 
 
 with fruit. Two pickings had already taken place. 
 The trees, I judge, are not above fifteen feet in 
 height, the top quite spherical in form, and so 
 dense with very dark green luxuriant leaves that 
 it is impossible to see through them, or to look 
 into the tree top. This, of course, is only the case 
 where the orchard has good soil and plenty of 
 water. Those which have not the soil or the 
 water have a less dense foliage, and the leaf takes 
 on a more or less yellow look. A tree well laden 
 with fruit, having a dark foliage as a back 
 ground, is certainly a delightful sight. There 
 are a few lemon growers at Riverside, but 
 not many. The lemon is grown heavily at 
 San Diego, some one hundred miles further 
 south. The tree on which they grow is about 
 the size of the orange, with fewer and more 
 open limbs. They were leafless and fruitless 
 when we were there, as was also the fig tree, which 
 resembles the lemon. There were also a great 
 many walnut groves about the city. These trees 
 resemble the lemon tree and were bare of leaf 
 and fruit. The olive tree is about the size of a 
 medium orange with a grey or light colored leaf. 
 The grape fruit, which is fast coming into popular 
 use, is grown bountifully on a tree about the size 
 of a medium orange tree. These were in full 
 foliage and a rich sight to look upon. The tree top 
 is nearly as dense as the orange, though not quite 
 so dark a green, and the grape fruit is yellow. 
 How the little limbs carry such clusters of grape
 
 The City of Riverside 261 
 
 fruit as they do is an enigma. Peaches, apricots 
 and prunes are also grown plentifully. The orange 
 tree, especially when laden with fruit, excels all 
 the others in its beauty. The class of orange 
 which excels all others on the market, is the navel 
 or seedless, and nearly half of all that are grown 
 are of this kind. All other groves are being con 
 verted into the seedless orange by cutting the tree 
 off about three feet from the ground and grafting 
 in buds of the seedless orange. 
 
 The seedless orange was discovered in this wise. 
 Some thirty years ago an official in Washington 
 wrote to an orange grower in Riverside that he 
 had secured some young orange trees from Brazil, 
 which he wished to 'have grown to see what they 
 might produce. The grower readily accepted and 
 they were sent to him. Two of these trees pro 
 duced fruit which proved to be seedless, and from 
 them every seedless tree in this country has been 
 produced. One of these stands where it was set 
 out, on the edge of a grove by the roadside in 
 Eiverside and is protected by a canopy. Its com 
 panion tree was taken up a few years since and set 
 out in the court of the New Glenwood Hotel, with 
 mudi ceremony by President Roosevelt. 
 
 The uncultivated land about Riverside, reach 
 able by the irrigating ditch, brings one hundred 
 and fifty dollars per acre. Orange groves pro 
 ducing fruit, bring from seven hundred to fifteen 
 hundred dollars per acre. At the time that we 
 were there, orange growers were getting from
 
 262 Letters-Essays 
 
 seventy-five cents to one dollar and ten cents per 
 box of about one hundred oranges. The railroad 
 gets a full one-half or more of what the oranges 
 produce in the eastern market. 
 
 Is another smart city of five thousand peo 
 ple, and has for a back ground a towering and 
 mighty mountain. It is situated only twenty miles 
 or so, northeast from Riverside. It has a fair sized 
 valley to support it, otherwise it would not have 
 come into existence. The city is at the end of the 
 valley and has mountains on three sides, as it 
 appeared to me. There is a very high hill, or a 
 low mountain, I know not which to call it, just on 
 the outskirts of the city, which has been adorned, 
 and beautified, with plants, vines, small ponds, 
 shrubbery, trees of every conceivable kind and 
 class, and flowers without end or limit, by an 
 eastern millionaire by the name of Smiley. It 
 is called Smiley Heights. The city gave him the 
 mountain in consideration, that he should beautify 
 it, and allow the public to drive through. There 
 are also many other magnificent homes of eastern 
 millionaires, with great parks, bowers and hedges, 
 and flowers without end. Shut in as it is, I hear 
 that it is excessively warm there in the summer 
 months.
 
 The City of San Diego 263 
 
 Cits of San Diego 
 
 This city is in the extreme southwestern corner 
 of the state and on the ocean shore. It has a 
 magnificent harbor, a mile or more inland, and 
 free of turbulent water. It is one of the very 
 oldest towns in the state, and it would seem, 
 should now equal San Francisco in size. Its 
 climate is claimed to be the most equable of any 
 place in the United States, having neither winter, 
 nor excessively hot summer weather, due to the 
 ocean breezes. With such a land locked harbor, 
 I cannot imagine why the National government 
 should undertake to build one out in the ocean, 
 up the coast, northerly, only a hundred and 
 twenty-five miles distant. It would look very 
 much as if politics had taken a hand in that job. 
 The people claim a population of twenty-three 
 thousand, but the record gives them only eighteen. 
 The city proper, is a mile or more inland from the 
 ocean. It is a smart, modern, and thriving town. 
 The country about, is rather mountainous, with 
 many fine villages, lacking only water for irriga 
 tion. It seems difficult to obtain it in sufficient 
 quantity. Some of our party thought it the finest 
 place to live, the year round, that we visited. 
 
 One of the most noted, tourist hotels in the 
 state is over, across 'the harbor on the ocean shore, 
 called, "the Coronada Beach." It is very large 
 and fine in all its appointments, with fine lawns, 
 parks, &c. It has, so far as I learned, the finest 
 surf to be found on the coast. This never ceases.
 
 264 Letters-Essays 
 
 The ocean may be quite calm indeed, and the 
 stranger at the moment, would say it would 
 remain so. There is no wind to make it otherwise, 
 and what else could disturb it. But look, a few 
 rods out from shore, the surface, as far as you 
 can see, begins to rise, rise, and the ridge of water 
 rising higher all the while, unbroken like a wall, 
 to move quite rapidly toward the store, standing 
 up in the air. At San Diego, I should say, it 
 rises at least, seven, or possibly eight feet. When 
 it reaches a certain heigiht, or a certain point up 
 the beach, I know not which is the cause, the top 
 rolls forward, making a white crest as far as you 
 can see, and rushes shoreward, up the beach, 
 making a great roar, and filling the space between 
 where the crest was and the shore, with foam. 
 Then the water quietly goes back to the sea, where 
 it is calm again, very soon to rise and repeat the 
 operation without end or limit. To watch it rise 
 and swell and break, the day long is not tiresome, 
 but really inspiring. I do not wonder that people 
 love the old ocean, and to live upon its shore. 
 
 Gbe City of pasabena 
 
 The City of Pasadena is often spoken of as the 
 most beautiful and lovely place in the State of 
 California, and perhaps it is. It is situated only 
 about ten miles northeast from Los Angeles, the 
 metropolis of Southern California. Los Angeles 
 is situated twenty-eight miles inland from San 
 Pedro, where the government has spent several
 
 Santa Barbara 265 
 
 millions, building dykes out into the ocean to 
 make a harbor. Why the city of Los Angeles was 
 not built on the 'ocean crest, is more than I can 
 understand. It has no water, except a little 
 stream which may, 'on occasion, be called a river, 
 but at most times is only a rivulet. The city of 
 Pasadena being so near Los Angeles, and there 
 being such magnificent street car service, little is 
 done in the -city in the way of business or com 
 mercial trade. It is purely and simply a gath 
 ering of some fifteen thousand people for quiet, 
 restful peace. It is stated that there are at least, 
 one hundred and fifty millionaires from the east, 
 who have residences for winter homes in the city. 
 The homes of these rich men are largely on Orange 
 Street and adjacent to it. It is certainly a most 
 elegant and delightful locality in which to winter, 
 or rather to escape winter. 
 
 At least seven-tenths of all the homes are built 
 with only one story, and this is quite a peculiar 
 feature all over the state. Another peculiarity is, 
 that only about one in twenty of them have a 
 cellar. I oftened wondered how a family could 
 live in them, being so small and having only one 
 story. The city is nestled right under a range 
 of mountains in its rear. 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 This is another tourist's place. It is on the 
 ocean and about a hundred miles north of Los 
 Angeles. The books give a population of seven
 
 266 Letters-Essays 
 
 thousand, though a stranger would not think it 
 had over half that. The mountains crowd it so 
 close to the ocean shore, that the city is greatly 
 elongated. While we were there the ocean breeze 
 was stiff, and even raw, and the dust quite plen 
 tiful. They have a large, fine, old Mission, still 
 in use. A town, without one of these is in poor 
 shape indeed. They have also, probably, the 
 finest hotel in the state, "The Potter," outside of 
 San Francisco, down on the beach. None of our 
 party was in any wise taken with the place. 
 
 Ibotel Bel fIDonte 
 
 In the judgment of our party, one and all, this 
 was, in the language of the ladies, the sweetest, 
 most delightful, lovely and charming spot, we 
 found in the state. It must be three hundred and 
 fifty miles north of Los Angeles. It is on a bay 
 of the ocean, though this is hidden from view by 
 the park trees. It is a mile or more from Mon 
 terey, New Monterey, and Pacific Beach, three 
 cities or villages, so contiguous that no one can 
 tell the division lines, nor would I think the resi 
 dents would wish to be known as living in any of 
 them. The United States government has an 
 army post there, and the saloons are thicker than 
 I ever saw them anywhere. The looks of the 
 buildings, and the condition of the people, would 
 indicate that all were living off the army post. 
 Monterey was the first capital of the state. 
 
 The hotel is a fine building and stands alone,
 
 The Big Trees at Santa Cruz 267 
 
 surrounded by a semi-forest, made up of great, 
 branching oak, native pine, red cedar, with an 
 importation 'of all kinds of trees from foreign isles 
 and climes, that will grow there. There are fine 
 walks leading everywhere and the ground is well 
 grasised. A pretty little lake is close by, on which 
 white and black swans are sailing. There is a 
 hedge maze close by, which leads many a tourist 
 a merry dance, and long walk, as Mr. Cox and I 
 can testify. But for two ladies we met in the 
 maze, we never could have reached the " sanc 
 tum, ' ' and but for two others, we never could have 
 gotten out. In ispite of our struggles in the maze, 
 we liked the place. It is so rich and spacious in 
 lawn and forest, so quiet and restful, and the air 
 so balmy and rich in ozone, that we were all 
 delighted with the place. Being on the ocean, 
 it is a resort the year round. 
 
 Ebe Big Srees at Santa Crus 
 
 We went to Santa Cruz on the ocean shore for 
 the purpose of visiting the big, red cedar trees. 
 Hiring a team we drove some three miles out of 
 the city up a great gulch to the top of the moun 
 tain where they stand. Beaching the forest, we 
 came to a cheap lodge, where were to be seen 
 several very large trees, say from six to ten feet 
 in diameter. Close by was a very high, board 
 fence, with a man at the gate. The mammoth 
 trees were inside, and 'to see them we must pay 
 him twenty-five cents. When looking at the
 
 268 Letters-Essays 
 
 others, I supposed they were the ones we had 
 come to see, but thought it very singular, to be 
 allowed, in California, a land of fees and tariff, 
 to walk right directly up to them. I had not 
 then noticed the high board fence. We paid the 
 fee like a good tourist and walked in. Sure 
 enough, there they were. They made those out 
 side look small indeed. The largest tree, called, 
 11 the Giant" is sixty-three feet in circumference 
 four feet above the ground, and three hundred 
 and seven feet in height, with seventy-five feet off 
 the top, lost years ago, so scientists say. There 
 are some fifty of these large trees in a space of 
 three acres. Many of these trees have been given 
 distinguished names, such as Grant, Sherman, 
 Harrison, McKinley and Roosevelt. One tree, 
 very large at the ground and burned out inside 
 to a height of twelve feet, leaving a shell to sup 
 port it, is living, and is s'aid to have sheltered 
 General Freemont in the winter of 1847. Some 
 fifty men can stand up inside the tree at one and 
 the same time. These trees are estimated by 
 students to be over three thousand years old. 
 
 be Cliff Ibouse aitf> Seals 
 
 The City of San Francisco, did not, in any wise, 
 appeal to our party. It is very hilly, and has, I 
 judge, a breeze or high wind about all the time. 
 That which most interested us and which we 
 remember with greatest pleasure, were the seals 
 on the rocks near the noted Cliff House, just south
 
 The Cliff House and Seals 269 
 
 of the Golden Gate on the ocean shore. The Cliff 
 House is a large frame structure, a summer 
 resort, I take it, for the plain people. It is built 
 on the rocks, some forty feet above the beating 
 waves. There are two or three great rocks, some 
 thirty rods distant in the ocean, rearing their 
 black heads above the water. One of these is 
 rather low, with a very uneven surface, but it 
 seems to be the natural home, or rather resting 
 place for 'the seal. When we were there it was 
 nearly covered with these great fellows, say 
 forty or more, resting, sleeping, and 'drying 
 themselves in the sun. The waves were pound 
 ing up against the rock, and in them could 
 be seen these great monsters, struggling to get 
 a landing, as the waves lifted them up. Many 
 times they failed and tumbled back into the sea. 
 Catching the landing at last, they would waddle 
 up the rock, over and among those already there, 
 with head up, causing a constant and never ceas 
 ing roaring or barking, the big fellows making the 
 smaller get out of the way in a hurry, but not 
 without a groan or a roar, just as some big men 
 walk over the weaker. When first coming out of 
 the water the seals are a rich l brown in color, but 
 after drying in the sun they change to a straw or 
 yellow color. Many of these seals weigh from 
 twelve hundred to eighteen hundred pounds. It 
 was a great sight to watch them and, somehow, 
 very fascinating, which we did all the time that 
 was given us.
 
 270 Letters-Essays 
 
 (Bolfcen (Bate 
 
 After the great quantity of literature that has 
 been poured out as to the Golden Gate, I was most 
 anxious to see it, and curious to know what it was, 
 and why it took the name. I did not know but it 
 was so narrow they had arched it and gilded the 
 arch with golden leaf, or put in v a gate and gilded 
 that, but come to see it, I found it a plain, simple, 
 narrow passage, leading from the ocean to the 
 bay. The water is very deep, a mile or more, and 
 it certainly is a magnificent entrance to a mag 
 nificent harbor. It is a mile and a half wide at 
 the ocean, extends easterly three miles, with hills 
 or mountains on its northern side, and rising 
 ground or hills on its southerly or city side, con 
 tracting, as it touches the bay, to one mile in 
 width. The bay is quite enormous in size.
 
 Santa Catalina Hslanb 
 
 HE trip over to this island is a pleasure 
 which the greater part of the tourists take 
 during their sojourn in the state. The boat 
 is taken at San Pedro, thirty miles dis 
 tant from Los Angeles, and it is twenty-eight 
 miles by boat to the island. On a clear day the 
 island can be seen from the shore, as it rises from 
 two hundred to four hundred feet, with almost 
 perpendicular walls out of the sea. We had been 
 often admonished to select a quiet, calm day for 
 the trip. The one we selected was calm, and the 
 ocean looked to be at rest. The boat was rather 
 small and the crowd quite great; too great we 
 thought for such a boat, but as the sea looked 
 smooth and the distance was short, we did not 
 give these points much thought. It took us some 
 time to get out beyond the breakwater or dyke 
 which the government is building, or rather was 
 building. It consists of spiles driven down into 
 the bed of the sea, on top of which a track was 
 laid to haul out stone to be dropped into the 
 ocean. These spiles are out for a mile and a half, 
 and at the outer end have been badly battered and 
 twisted by the great waves. The stones thrown 
 in, do not show above the water for more than a
 
 272 Letters-Essays 
 
 mile from the shore. The story we heard, was 
 that the United States government had appro 
 priated three million dollars which had already 
 gone into the sea, and so the work had come to a 
 stop. 
 
 After a little we wished the dyke had been built 
 clear over to the island. Getting beyond the 
 breakwater, our boat began to reel and rock quite 
 uncomfortably. The sea was smooth to look out 
 upon, that is, there were no whitecaps, or broken 
 waves, but there were plenty of great, heavy, 
 deep swells, -and we were running in the trough 
 of them. These swells were the tail-end of the 
 recent violent storm on the coast. It seemed to 
 us many times, that the boat would surely go 
 over on its side. We did not like it, not any of 
 us, but there was nothing to do but take it. 
 Many others did not like it and showed their dis 
 gust by pale, wan faces and heavy heaving. Our 
 party, consisting of Simeon L. Clark, wife 'and 
 daughter, James A. Cox, wife and daughter, Mrs. 
 Sanford and the writer, made a brave fight, 
 especially the ladies, and came out in quite good 
 shape. 
 
 The port of the island is called Avalon, and is 
 quite a summer resort. It is said that ten thousand 
 people are often there at a time, but for the life 
 of me, I do not see where that many could find 
 standing room. It is a little nook on the side of 
 the towering rocks, and, I judge, the only one 
 on the shore of the whole island, which is twenty-
 
 Santa Catalina- Island 273 
 
 two miles in length, and was discovered in 1542, 
 with Indians upon it. There is one quite good 
 hotel, several minor ones, and quite a number of 
 trinket stores and booths, such as are always at 
 such resorts. 
 
 We were either captivated with the place, or 
 so pleased to get our feet on terra firma, I know 
 not which, that we at once decided to remain over 
 night and return the following day. The sun was 
 shooting its sharp rays into that cosy settlement, 
 and 'as there was considerable life about, it made 
 the place quite inviting. Coming out on the beach 
 after dinner, men began feeding the seals in the 
 ocean with fish which the fishermen had caught, 
 and which were fit for no other use. It was great 
 sport indeed, to watch them grab the great, black 
 fish on the very shore, shake them violently, tear 
 out a mouthful, in a struggle with ten or twelve of 
 them, all in a mass to get a piece of the fish. 
 From long-feeding they had become quite tame. 
 
 Nor, should I in this connection forget the sea 
 gulls and pelicans, which verily fill the air while 
 the seal feeding is going on. They, in their eager 
 ness to get a bit of the meat, come down in great 
 numbers over the seal and among them, cackling 
 all the while. The gull is quite a comely bird, 
 about the size of the hen-hawk in northern New 
 York. The pelican is about as dull and ungainly 
 as he could be made. His stretch of wing must 
 certainly be four feet, his bill is ponderous, a full 
 foot in length, and from two to three inches in
 
 274 Letters-Essays 
 
 width. When the bird is standing he holds his 
 head high, with the bill resting against his breast. 
 They fly heavily and lazily, and on spying a fish, 
 keel up and drop as if shot, head foremost into 
 the sea, when they very bunglingly right them 
 selves on the water. 
 
 The boatmen, big and little, do a thriving busi 
 ness carrying passengers, some to see the Marine 
 gardens through glass bottom boats, others to 
 Moonstone beach, and others up the coast two 
 miles to see the great, bull seals on the rocks in 
 their native haunts. 
 
 This is considered one of the best fishing points 
 for pure sport of fishing, to be found anywhere in 
 the country. Indeed, its reputation extends 
 beyond the confines of this country, people from 
 Europe continually going there to fish. Boatmen 
 take them out in small boats, from four to six 
 miles in the ocean. The fish they come over to 
 catch is called the tuna, and weighs from one 
 hundred to three hundred pounds. They are the 
 greatest fighters known, requiring hours some 
 times to capture them.
 
 Escent of fl&ount 2Lowe 
 
 HE most exciting, interesting and frighten 
 ing excursion that I ever took was up 
 Mount Lowe by cable and trolley. It was 
 too interesting for my nerves. 
 I do not seem built for high altitudes and 
 yawning chasms. I did not know it before start 
 ing or I would not have gone. The street car took 
 us some six miles from Pasadena, Oal., to the foot 
 of the mountain, rising all the while, and into a 
 nook in the foot hills at the base of the great 
 incline, where a oar looking very much like an 
 extra large automobile with the rear greatly 
 raised to put the seats on a level as it goes up the 
 mountain, awaited us. Our party got out and 
 looked up the track some fifteen hundred feet, well 
 towards perpendicular, (ranging from forty-five 
 to sixty-eight per cent rise) until our necks ached. 
 Then we gasped, rubbed the back of our necks to 
 limber the cords, and, turning to one another 
 ejaculated, " Well, What do you think of it?" 
 One replied, " It is too much for me." Another 
 " I couldn't go up it, I'm afraid of my heart " and 
 another "I'd faint dead away. The rest of you 
 go if you want to. ' ' While we were thus debating
 
 276 Letters-Essays 
 
 the car was readily filled with thirty persons more 
 courageous than we and off it slowly went, drawn 
 by a cable. We watched them rise, when presently 
 over the top, up near the clouds, was seen a car 
 coming down. ' ' Will we be bold enough to take 
 that one?" inquired some. " I don't know " 
 retorted others. Thus we joked and laughed, but 
 when it reached the foot there were enough to fill 
 it, and to be gentlemanly we let them do it. Up 
 it went, we watching the while. Presently again 
 over the top came the first car back for the 
 cowards, for there were enough of these to fill a 
 car. So do not think we were the only timid ones. 
 When it got down we did not have to be gentle 
 manly. There was room for all. Mr. James A. 
 Cox led off, asking " Who is going?" Mrs. 
 Simeon L. Clark, Miss Blanche Berry and I 
 replied " We are," took our seats and up, up we 
 went. I did not look back, nor into the chasm on 
 the right, nor to the beautiful plain and city of 
 Pasadena on the left. They were all crying, 
 " Look at this and look at that, how beautiful, 
 how charming," but I was attending to my 
 knitting, fearing I might drop a stitch. In seven 
 or eight minutes we were on the top called Echo 
 Mountain, where we got out. From there I viewed 
 it all complacently and it was grand indeed. This 
 point is some 3100 feet above the sea and I had 
 supposed was all there was to the excursion, and 
 after a little I wished it had been. We busied 
 ourselves for a time when a light built, open
 
 Ascent of Mount Lowe 277 
 
 electric car came in from around the side of the 
 mountain and we all got in, little thinking where 
 we were to go or what we were to experience. 
 Half a mile away, across a great gulf, midway up 
 a mountain I could see a yellow streak and sure 
 enough, as I soon learned, this was our road. 
 Unfortunately for me I got an end seat, and on the 
 chasm or gulch side. We started right out the 
 mountain side, with a road bed just wide enough 
 for the car wheels, at fair speed, with -a chasm 
 ranging from perpendicular to forty-five per cent 
 slope and from 100 to one thousand feet deep, 
 which continued to the journey's end four miles 
 away. I got frightened at once, and it didn't let 
 up. To get away from the gulf I pressed the other 
 three on the seat hard the other way and hung 
 on to the seat in front. Away up there in the air 
 we were eternally and all the while turning 
 shorter corners than I supposed possible, far 
 shorter than any street corner, now into a ravine 
 in the mountain side and then out around a sharp 
 projection, the wheels screeching from friction all 
 the while with new vistas and new gulches at 
 every turn. I suppose it was grand but I didn't 
 see much of it. The whole car was ejaculating, 
 " Oh, look down there," " Did you see that 
 peak?" " Look over there," " What blending of 
 colors." " See the clouds." " They are no 
 higher than we. How fleecy and thin they look. ' ' 
 11 Did you notice that awful chasm," &c. &c. 
 The apparent unconcern of the others helped me
 
 278 Letters-Essays 
 
 some and toward the end I had considerably 
 improved, got so I could look down a, sloping 
 gulch. About two miles out our car left the moun 
 tain side to which it had clung, and turned sharply 
 out into space on trestle work over an awful 
 chasm and went back for some distance below the 
 track on which we came up. This trestle, we were 
 told, is forty-one hundred feet above the sea, 
 showing a rise from the start of one thousand 
 feet. At the end of another two miles we found 
 ourselves at a cove in the mountain side, where 
 is what is called Alpine Tavern, five thousand feet 
 above the sea. From there you can take burros 
 and go another one thousand feet to the top but 
 we had had enough. After taking dinner, which 
 all of us were able to do, but not some others on 
 the ar, we sat about for an hour awaiting our car 
 to return. There was a big, burly Tammany 
 Hall politician, who was more frightened than I, 
 and I took quite a liking to him. We left him up 
 there. How he made it coming down I do not 
 know. He was dreading it. 
 
 On the return there was quite a scramble to get 
 inner seats. The car seats thirty-five. Nine more 
 were crowded in, which annoyed us, and in 
 addition to this a trailing car holding thirty was 
 attached. It looked to us like altogether too 
 much of a load, but we had nothing to say, and off 
 we went, down, down hill all the way. Our pace 
 was quite brisk, more so than I would suppose 
 they would dare go. Happily, on this trip I found
 
 Ascent of Mount Lowe 279 
 
 I could now and then take in some of the beauties 
 that were so persistently dinned into my ears on 
 the way up. Eeaching the great incline I stepped 
 into the car and went down with as much com 
 posure as a 'boy slides down hill, being such a 
 relief, I suppose, to get off the side of that moun 
 tain, or rather those mountains. 
 
 After all, I feel just as another man I met who 
 took it felt. He told me that he would not have 
 missed taking it for a thousand dollars, that had 
 he known what it was he would not have taken it 
 for 'a thousand. But it must be said that many 
 people do not seem to mind it much. If you 
 have a chance, try it. It is a hundred fold more 
 exciting than the ascent of Pikes Peak.
 
 H IDisit to the %icfc Observatory 
 
 OME years ago James Lick of San Fran 
 cisco, built one of the great observatories 
 of the world, on the top of Mt. Hamilton 
 some twenty-eight miles back from the 
 city of San Jose, California. The observatory has 
 an elevation of forty-two hundred feet above the 
 sea. 
 
 It was principally to see this, as, I judge, it is 
 with most tourists, that we went to San Jose. The 
 stage for Mount Hamilton with four horses, left 
 at seven in the morning, April 5, 1905. I, alone 
 of our party, got aboard with nine others, six of 
 whom were from Illinois, and off we went. It was 
 very foggy and we feared it would be an unpleas 
 ant day, but when we got well started on the 
 mountain side, the fog lifted, passed away and 
 the day became most charming. We slowly rose 
 all the while, winding in and out the mountain 
 side, with clean and well cultivated valleys and 
 hillsides below us, for .some twelve or fifteen miles. 
 It was a charming and delightful sight to look 
 off and down upon the orchards and well culti 
 vated fields. I do not know just why it should 
 have been so pleasing but it was. Perhaps our 
 height intensified the beauty of the view. 
 We changed our four horses twice on the way
 
 THE LICK OBSERVATORY
 
 A Visit to the Lick Observatory 281 
 
 up, and again on the return. It was a good road 
 all the way arid oiled to lay the dust. When we 
 had seven miles further to go we could plainly 
 see the white buildings, and great, white dome, 
 up above us against the sky, and they did not 
 look to be a mile distant, but we found they were. 
 In going those seven miles we made two hundred 
 and twenty-one turns going in and out, back 
 ward and forward, to get up to the top, with 
 deep sides and gulches 'below us. As we neared 
 the top, turning a point, the driver called out, 
 " Here is the ' Oh My Chasm,' " and sure 
 enough, as we looked off and down, every one but 
 a man and his wife from Butte, Montana, which 
 is all mountains, did cry out, ' ' Oh My. ' ' He told 
 us it was eighteen hundred feet to the bottom of 
 the chasm, very nearly perpendicular, and I judge 
 it was. There were many other places very deep, 
 but none equaling this. 
 
 The office and living building are of good size 
 and, of course, built of stone. The observatory 
 is up against it for mutual support, I judge. The 
 wind up there reaches a velocity at times of 
 ninety miles an hour. The view from there was 
 fine, even awe inspiring. The country all about 
 appeared to be mountainous. 
 
 I 'cannot give a description of the telescope or 
 of the dome inclosing it with any great accuracy, 
 since the circular handed us is not now at hand, 
 which I regret. I do remember that the observa 
 tory complete cost a little over six hundred
 
 282 Letters-Essays 
 
 thousand dollars. The dome is some fifty feet 
 in diameter and fifty feet high. The telescope 
 is about forty-five feet in length and about four 
 feet in diameter and built of metal. It has a 
 lens thirty-six inches in diameter. There is a slit 
 in the dome from bottom to top, some six feet 
 wide, through which the telescope points when 
 in use. It is hung in the centre by a very strong 
 support and can be easily moved or turned, 'and 
 all by machinery. The machinery is so delicate 
 and accurate that the telescope can be put on a 
 star at the horizon, an'd it will keep on it through 
 the night, the machinery just keeping time with 
 the revolution of the earth. What may we think 
 of that for such a mighty and ponderous instru 
 ment? By machinery also, the telescope and 
 massive pedestal, or 'base on which it rests, can 
 be moved up and down a distance of about fifteen 
 feet. Down underneath the telescope Mr. Lick 
 is buried. Peace to his ashes. Above him, due 
 to his bounty, they are every now and then find 
 ing new worlds. Along side the big telescope 
 there are attached two small ones, with which 
 they first find the object they wish to study. 
 
 The finest spectacle of all came to us when 
 twenty miles away on our return, as it was 
 growing dusk. Looking back, we could not see 
 the mountains at all for the dust and smoke of 
 the ! day had risen, but we could plainly see the 
 great white buildings and dome up against the 
 sky, verily like a white residence in the heavens.
 
 A Visit to the Lick Observatory 283 
 
 Stanford 3r., 1Hniver$it$ 
 
 On the following day we took the train for Palo 
 Alto, eight miles north, to visit the famous Le- 
 land Stanford, Jr., University. A howling pack 
 of hackmen met us, seeming to know <we were 
 coming, or, at least, that the train was. We 
 joined with others and engaged one of them to 
 drive us through the grounds and explain mat 
 ters. The grounds reach nearly to the depot, and 
 comprise the Stanford Palo Alto estate of eight 
 thousand four hundred acres. The university 
 now has seventy-seven thousand acres in other 
 parts of the state, with securities, making an en 
 dowment of upwards of forty million dollars, all 
 given by Stanford and his wife, who very lately 
 died. The buildings are all built of a yellow stone, 
 quarried near by. I do not think they could long 
 withstand a northern New York climate. The 
 architecture is of the Old Mission type, and quite 
 attractive indeed. There are many buildings 
 completed, some of which are only one-story high 
 and others under construction. There is a mas 
 sive memorial arch over a hundred feet high. It 
 is an imposing entrance. I could not keep out 
 of mind the arches that the Roman Conquerors 
 built to signalize their victories. Those have 
 gone; will not this, built for a better purpose, 
 endure longer ? The memorial church, built of the 
 same stone by Mrs. Stanford, cost five hundred 
 thousand dollars, and is one of the finest in
 
 284 Letters-Essays 
 
 America. Over the chancel nearly a hundred feet 
 up is the painting of an eye, representing the All 
 Seeing Eye. The church contains one of the great 
 organs of the country, with over 'three thousand 
 pipes and cost sixteen thousand dollars. The 
 spire is over two hundred feet high. The win 
 dows ( are all allegorical and costly. Artisiians 
 from the Old World 'are still 'at work upon the 
 interior. It is the richest and finest church I 
 was ever in. I was glad to learn that all the 
 preaching was non-sectarian. 
 
 The museums are very extensive, and contain 
 about everything any one would wish to see, from 
 Egyptian mummies with robes and casket, to the 
 smallest sea shells, also the jewelry and dresses of 
 Mrs. Stanford, one of them costing as high as 
 thirty-five thousand dollars, with about every 
 thing her husband and son ever had, I should 
 think. One could spend several days with pleas 
 ure in the great room devoted to oil paintings. 
 Some of them are particularly fine, superb. This 
 room took my fancy more than any other. I am 
 not an artist, but I know they are fine, since they 
 are so lifelike and natural that you expect them 
 to speak as you approach them. Statues and 
 paintings of Mr. Stanford, Mrs. Stanford and the 
 son confront one everywhere. 
 
 But the finest, most artistic of all, is a full 
 sized figure in the whitest marble of a woman on 
 her knees with great marble wings, with her face 
 resting on her arms lying on a block of marble.
 
 A Visit to the Lick Observatory 285 
 
 Wings, woman and pedestal were cut from a 
 single stone, and cost sixty thousand dollars, as 
 I remember. It is intended to represent Mrs. 
 Stanford weeping over the loss of her son. It 
 stands out in the grounds and is by far the great 
 est piece of 'statuary I ever looked upon. It is 
 the personification in marble of the deepest and 
 most uncontrollable sorrow. Viewing it, we were, 
 and most people are, unconsciously stilled to a 
 quiet, sober and even reverential mood. Four dis 
 tinguished looking men stood viewing it as we 
 approached, and it so appealed to them that they 
 had, unbidden, taken off their hats. Think of a 
 piece of stone doing that. Close by is a great 
 mausoleum of white marble costing over one hun 
 dred thousand dollars, in which Mr. and Mrs. 
 Stanford and their son are 'buried. 
 
 NOTE. An earthquake, followed by fire, nearly de 
 stroyed the city of San Francisco in April, 1906. It also 
 practically destroyed the Memorial Church of which I have 
 spoken, and many of the college buildings. I trust, sin 
 cerely, that it did not harm the statue of the sorrowing 
 woman.
 
 (Seorge S. Wright 
 
 ONDAY evening, September llth, 1905, 
 word came over the telephone that Mr. 
 Wright had passed away. Though not 
 unexpected it was a shock to his many 
 friends and acquaintances in this village, where 
 he was known quite as well as our permanent res 
 idents. 
 
 Seventy years and more ago he began coming 
 here as a boy from his home, twelve miles east, 
 which he has kept up through all the interven 
 ing years, living here entirely during the winter 
 months for the last half-dozen years or more. 
 Therefore he well knew and took a respectful 
 position with all the leading and prominent men 
 here and in Eastern St. Lawrence for the past 
 fifty years or more. Very nearly all of these 
 men have preceded him in their entrances upon 
 that " shoreless sea " called eternity. He was 
 quite alone for some years past as to the men of 
 his prime, but this did not chill or mar in any 
 way his interest in life, so practical and virile was 
 his nature. As the older ones fell by the way 
 side he took the hand of the son and came on 
 through the years full of cheer, well knowing
 
 GEORGE S. WRIGHT
 
 George 8. Wright 287 
 
 that it is but natural for the old to die. In this 
 way and due to this characteristic he entered into 
 full fellowship with the succeeding generation, 
 now becoming hoary with age, fully as closely 
 and intimately as he had with the men of his age 
 and prime. How fortunate such a faculty to one 
 whose journey is so long. 
 
 Mr. Wright was a son of Caleb Wright, a pio 
 neer of the town of Hopkinton, who came to that 
 town from Weybridge, Vt., at least as early as 
 1804. The first settlement of the town was in 
 March, 1803. It was practically a dense forest 
 when Mr. Wright came. He worked more or less 
 at least for Eos>well Hopkins, the founder of the 
 town, for a few years. He first selected a hun 
 dred acres where Jonah Sanford, Jr., so long re 
 sided, then an unbroken forest, but being per 
 suaded by the few settlers over on the " Pots 
 dam road " that there never would be a road by 
 his tract, gave it up and took instead a hundred 
 acres on the north side of the road opposite the 
 George S. Wright brick residence. There he built 
 a log house, which stood where the farm tenant 
 house now stands, and in which his first child, 
 Catherine, wife of John W. Priest of 'Springfield, 
 was born May 14, 1815. In the next year or two 
 he 'built a frame house where the brick residence 
 now stands, where he lived till his death, Novem 
 ber 14th, 1839. He must have been a man of 
 business ability, since in those few years, begin 
 ning in a forest, he had purchased and owned
 
 288 Letters-Essays 
 
 the next hundred acres west of his own, the hun 
 dred acres southerly across the road, and land 
 in 'Stockholm and Canton, being easily the 
 wealthiest man in all that section. Upon his 
 death the care and burden of the estate fell upon 
 his widow, who proved herself in every way com 
 petent. 
 
 Mr. George S. Wright never tired in his praise 
 of his mother as a great manager and good busi 
 ness woman. 
 
 There were five children, viz.: Catherine, Ada- 
 line, who married Joseph A. Brush; Caleb, who 
 died at Libertyville, 111., in 1900; Louisa and 
 George S., who survived them all. 
 
 George S. Wright was born May 28th, 1824. He 
 remained at home 'and ultimately acquired the 
 entire farm. The log house having gone to wreck, 
 in 1857, he moved the frame house across the road 
 to the site of the old log house and in the same 
 year built the fine brick residence in which he 
 has ever since resided. 
 
 Mr. Wright, on reaching his majority, took an 
 active interest in all public and town affairs, 
 which he continued to do till within the last few 
 years. He was a bright, well informed man and 
 possessed in an eminent degree the courage of 
 his convictions. He never feared to assert his 
 opinions and convictions upon any topic or mat 
 ter. In a business way he ha'd but few if any 
 superiors, situated as he was in a quiet, rural re 
 treat. He had great good sense, rare judgment
 
 George 8. Wright 289 
 
 of men and values, and most excellent qualities 
 as a financier and business man. 
 
 He was one of the promoters and organizers 
 of the Peoples Bank of this village, attending the 
 first meeting of stockholders February 5th, 1889,- 
 when he was elected a director, which position 
 he held till May, 1892, when he declined a re 
 election. 
 
 In all business matters or ventures he was al 
 ways exceedingly careful, conservative and cau 
 tious, looking it over with keen vision from every 
 side, thus saving him from any reverses or losses 
 of any moment in a business way. With such 
 views and ideas of life, and they were with him 
 till the last, it could hardly be otherwise than 
 that he should be a great success in life, which 
 he was, acquiring as is universally understood, a 
 large competence. 
 
 In 1862 and '63, when the civil war was in its 
 height, he held the important position of su 
 pervisor of his town. As such and as a plain citi 
 zen he put his time, means and his spirit into the 
 cause for the Union. His loyalty to the Union 
 and positive nature brought him into some wordy 
 contests with the few Copperheads whom he met, 
 whose principles he despised. 
 
 Mr. Wright was hardly up to medium size in 
 height, spare and slight of build. For years his 
 hair and beard have been white and the latter 
 worn full. The picture which we are able to give 
 is taken from the cut in * ' Early History of Hop-
 
 290 Letters-Essays 
 
 kinton," and is a fine illustration of how he has 
 looked for some years past. 
 
 For years he has been quite a sufferer from 
 asthma and in the last ten years or so has had 
 several sick spells. Though not robust or vigor- 
 ours he yet possessed almost amazing virility and 
 recuperating powers, recovering from every ill 
 ness except the last. 
 
 In 1856 he married Harriet M., the daughter 
 of Lee Eastman, who died January 15th, 1894. 
 By this marriage there were two children, Eosa 
 L. and Mattie, who died in 1876. His daughter, 
 Rosa L., has lived with him all her life and for 
 some years has been his constant associate and 
 companion in sickness and in ihealth. Her care, 
 watchfulness and devotion to him have been un 
 stinted. With such sweet and tender mercies as 
 she has ministered unto him in all his illnesses, 
 his spirit could hardly have taken its flight with 
 out a benediction upon her.
 
 ^Lincoln's Gettysburg Hbbress 
 
 Mas Ht Written on tbe {Train to tbc 
 
 IBattlefielfc? Spofcen at <B. & R 
 
 Encampment at ]pot0t>am, 
 
 Hugust, 1905 
 
 . COMMANDER, Ladies and Gentlemen: 
 Let me preface the reading of the ad- 
 dress with a brief history of where and 
 when it was written, so far as I have 
 been able to gather from his historians and 
 others. Not long after its delivery at Get 
 tysburg, in November, 1863, the story went 
 over the country, through the press, that while 
 the President was on his way from Washington 
 to Gettysburg, a noted gentleman with whom he 
 was conversing in the car (some reports have it 
 that it was Edward Everett himself) made the 
 inquiry of the President: " I suppose you will 
 speak today? " To which the President replied: 
 " No, no. Edward Everett, the most polished 
 orator in all this country, is to speak, and no one 
 will care to hear me after listening to him." 
 " But," rejoined his friend, " you forget, you 
 are the President of the United States. We are
 
 292 Letters-Essays 
 
 to dedicate a great national cemetery of the Union 
 dead who fell on that field, and, surely, the Presi 
 dent should at least make a short address. The 
 people there gathered will be greatly disappointed 
 if you do not. They will wonder, too, why the 
 President could not and did not on such a solemn 
 occasion find it in his heart to say at least a kindly 
 word." 
 
 To this appeal, as the story has it, a sad look 
 came over the President 's face as was his wont in 
 deep meditation, when, calling for a pad, he 
 wrote on his knee the address which, by critic 
 and scholar, rhetorician and orator, publicist and 
 statesman, is everywhere and by all considered 
 as the purest in deep feeling, grandest in thought 
 and noblest in expression, of any address of the 
 kind ever penned by mortal man. 
 
 This surely is a pretty story of how it was 
 written, and it appeals to us all who love Lincoln 
 and his memory, and it exalts him. But certainly 
 his fame nor his memory require it, especially 
 if it be not true. No other man living then or 
 since could have written it, though given months 
 in which to do it, because no man then or since 
 had or has such a combination of heart and brain 
 as Mr. Lincoln possessed. 
 
 Now, I do not say, with the information that 
 is obtainable, that he did not write it on his knee 
 in the car on his way to Gettysburg, but I must 
 say, after considerable research, that I can not 
 give the story any credence. Though the im 
 mortal Lincoln (if any man can be truly said to
 
 Lincoln's Gettysburg Address 293 
 
 be immortal) was its author, is it not, I submit, 
 taxing credulity to the straining point, to think 
 or believe that even he could pen such an ad 
 dress, on the spur of the moment, in a noisy car, 
 surrounded by so many distinguished men, being 
 as he was the center of attraction and the cyno 
 sure of all eyes and attention? Several promi 
 nent men who not only accompanied him, but at 
 tended on him during the trip, have told us of 
 many incidents of the journey, but not one of 
 them, so far as my reading goes, mentions the 
 writing of this address in the car. While one 
 of them, whose duty it was to look after the Presi 
 dent, states that he observed him often and that 
 he could not have written it in the car. There is 
 some authority, I admit, that he did so write it, 
 but it is mostly hearsay, and I think overborne by 
 the testimony of those who accompanied 'him and 
 other facts which we know. 
 
 Benjamin Parley Poore, who was an able news 
 paper correspondent and a close friend of the 
 President, states in his essay on Lincoln as fol 
 lows: 
 
 " Lincoln's remarks at Gettysburg, which have 
 been compared to the Sermon on the Mount, were 
 written in the car on his way from Washington 
 to the battlefield upon a piece of pasteboard held 
 on his knee, with persons talking all around him; 
 yet, when a few hours afterward he read them, 
 Edward Everett took him by the hand and said: 
 * I would rather be the author of those twenty 
 lines than to have all the fame my oration of to 
 day will give me. '
 
 294 Letters-Essays 
 
 He does not state, nor do I learn, that he was 
 with the President ion that memorable journey. 
 
 The Hon. Hugh McCulloch, who was comp 
 troller of the currency and 'also secretary of the 
 treasury under Lincoln, in his masterly tribute, 
 after making the inquiry: 
 
 * ' Where in the English language can be found 
 eloquence of higher tone or more magnetic power 
 than in his (Lincoln's) speech at Gettysburg," 
 adds, " It is said that Mr. Everett, taking Mr. 
 Lincoln's hand, remarked: ' My speech will soon 
 be forgotten. Yours never will be. How gladly 
 would I exchange my hundred pages for your 
 twenty lines.' " 
 
 It is evident he was not present, since had he 
 been he would have had a seat on the platform, 
 and thus hearing what was said, would not have 
 used the qualifying words, * ' It is said. ' ' 
 
 L. E. Chittenden in his " Personal Reminis 
 cences," published in 1893, says: 
 
 " It has been said that he (Lincoln) wrote the 
 Gettysburg 'address with a lead pencil on the cars 
 riding to the battlefield. Possibly, and yet it 
 would not follow that he had not expended as 
 much time and thought over its few lines as Mr. 
 Everett had upon his ornate oration. ' ' 
 
 He was Lincoln's registrar of the treasury, 
 and one of his most ardent admirers. It will be 
 noticed he used the qualifying terms, " It has 
 been said, ' ' and ' ' possibly, ' ' showing that he had 
 some doubt on the subject. 
 
 Isaac N. Arnold, a member of Congress from 
 .Chicago, and a great friend of the President, in
 
 Lincoln's Gettysburg Address 295 
 
 his * ' Life of Lincoln, ' ' publishe'd in 1885, says : 
 
 " President Lincoln while in the cars on 'his 
 way to the battlefield was notified that he would 
 be expected to make some remarks. Asking for 
 some paper, a rough sheet of foolscap was handed 
 to him, and, retiring to a seat by himself, with 
 a pencil wrote the a'ddress which has become so 
 celebrated, an address which for 'appropriateness 
 and eloquence, for pathos and beauty, for sublim- 
 ity in sentiment and expression, has -hardly its 
 equal in English literature." 
 
 After speaking of the President's delivery of 
 the address he further says : 
 
 11 As he (Lincoln) closed and the tears and 
 sobs and cheers which expressed the emotions of 
 the people subsided, he turned to Everett and 
 grasping his hand said: ' I congratulate you on 
 your success.' The orator gracefully replied: 
 ' Ah, Mr. President, how gladly would I exchange 
 all my hundred pages to have been the author of 
 your twenty lines.' " 
 
 In a foot note he states that he is indebted to 
 Governor Denison, who was present, for some of 
 the incidents stated in the text, but he does not 
 state what they are. 
 
 In the history of Lincoln by John T. Morse, 
 published in 1899, he quotes what Arnold says 
 as to Lincoln's having written it on his knee in 
 the cars, and then adds : 
 
 " But that the composition was quite so ex 
 temporaneous as that seems doubtful, since we 
 know that he (the President) was invited on the 
 2nd of November to make an address after the 
 oration by Mr. Everett."
 
 296 . Letters-Essays 
 
 Major Henry C. Whitney, who was in close in 
 timacy with Lincoln for seventeen years, in his 
 " Life on the Circuit With Lincoln," published 
 in 1892, after stating that Lincoln's speech at 
 Gettysburg was a masterpiece of eloquence, fur 
 ther says: 
 
 ' ' But it was not hastily written in the cars on 
 his way to the ground, as is claimed, but was 
 written, corrected, revised and rewritten. ' ' 
 
 Noah Brooks was another noted correspondent 
 stationed at Washington during the war. He 
 had known Lincoln in Illinois, and he enjoyed the 
 intimacy and confidence of Mr. Lincoln to quite 
 an extent. In his " Washington in Lincoln's 
 Time," published in 1895, he says that on the 
 Sunday preceding the dedication ceremonies at 
 Gettysburg, he had an appointment to go with 
 the President to a photographer; that as they 
 were going down the stairs of the White House, 
 the President, excusing himself, returned to his 
 office, and presently returned with a large en 
 velope in which he stated was an advance copy 
 of Mr. Everett's oration; that Everett had kindly 
 sent it to 'him that he might not traverse the 
 same lines in his oration; that, in reply to an in 
 quiry if his speech had already been written, he 
 said that it had, but not finished and was very 
 short, so short that he had brought the paper 
 along, hoping that in any moments of leisure at 
 the photographer's he might review it a little; 
 that the envelope containing Everett's oration
 
 Lincoln's Gettysburg Address 297 
 
 lay on a stand and was taken in the picture of the 
 President. 
 
 General James B. Frye, who was Provost Mar 
 shal General and designated by the War Depart 
 ment as a special escort to the President from 
 Washington to Gettysburg, says in his tribute to 
 Lincoln : 
 
 ' ' It has been said, I believe, that Lincoln wrote 
 in the car en route to Gettysburg the celebrated 
 speech which he delivered upon that historic bat 
 tle ground. I am quite sure that is an error. I 
 have no recollection of seeing him writing or 
 even reading his speech during the journey. In 
 fact, .there was hardly any opportunity for him 
 to read or write. ' ' 
 
 But the most positive testimony as to where 
 the address was written and as to its reception 
 by that vast audience when delivered, is fur 
 nished by Ward Hill Lamon in his ' ' Kecollections 
 of Abraham Lincoln." He was the Marshal of 
 the District of Columbia and accompanied the 
 President to Gettysburg as a sort of body guard, 
 and as such had a seat on the platform not 
 twenty feet 'distant from the President. He de 
 votes one entire chapter to " The True Story of 
 the Gettysburg Speech." The substance of what 
 he has to say bearing on the point of where it 
 was written and how it was received, greatly 
 condensed, is as follows: 
 
 " A day or two before the dedication, Mr. Lin 
 coln told me that he would be expected to speak, 
 that he was extremely busy and greatly feared 
 he would not be 'able to acquit himself with
 
 298 Letters-Essays 
 
 credit. He drew from his hat a sheet of foolscap, 
 one side of which was closely written, which, he 
 informed me, was his intended speech. This he 
 read to me, first remarking that it was not at all 
 satisfactory to him. It proved to be, in substance, 
 if not in exact words, what was afterward printed 
 as his famous Gettysburg speech. Immediately 
 after its delivery, an'd while on the stand, the 
 President, turning to me, said: * Lamon, that 
 speech won't scour. It is a flat failure and 
 the people are disappointed.' While still on the 
 platform, Mr. Seward turned to Mr. Everett and 
 asked him what he thought of the President's 
 speech. Mr. Everett replied: * It is not what I 
 expected of him. I am disappointed.' Then, in 
 turn, Mr. Everett asked: * What do you think 
 of it, Mr. Seward? ' The response was: ' He has 
 made a failure, and I am sorry for it. His speech 
 is not equal to him.' Mr. Seward then turned 
 to me and asked: ' Mr. Marshal, what do you 
 think of it? ' I answered: * I am sorry to say it 
 does not impress me as one of his great speeches. ' 
 In the face of these facts it has been repeatedly 
 published that the speech was received with 
 loud demonstrations of approval, and that Mr. 
 Everett turned to Mr. Lincoln, grasped his hand 
 and exclaimed: ' I congratulate you on your suc 
 cess. How gladly would I give my hundred pages 
 to be the author of your twenty lines.' Nothing 
 of the kind occurred. ' ' 
 
 In the great work of Nicolay and Hay, his pri 
 vate secretaries, nothing is said as to the prep 
 aration of this speech, or as to how it was re 
 ceived on its delivery, but they do state that the 
 President was officially invited on November 2nd
 
 Lincoln's Gettysburg Address 299 
 
 to speak at the dedicatory services, thus giving 
 him seventeen days' notice. 
 
 On the day following the dedication, Mr. Ev 
 erett wrote the President a letter, in which, after 
 thanking him for securing his daughter accom 
 modation on the platform at the ceremonies, uses 
 this language: 
 
 " Permit me also to express my great admira 
 tion of the thoughts expressed by you with such 
 eloquent simplicity and appropriateness at the 
 consecration of the cemetery. I should be glad 
 if I could flatter myself that I came as near to 
 the central idea of the occasion in two hours as 
 you did in two minutes. ' ' 
 
 These words tally somewhat with the remarks 
 attributed to Mr. Everett at the time on the 
 platform, and may they not, after all, have been 
 the foundation for the fulsome words of praise 
 which gained such currency, because of the great 
 love of the people for Mr. Lincoln? 
 
 However, it must be admitted that the address 
 was not at the time of its delivery or for some 
 time 'afterward fully appreciated by our people. 
 It seems to have been first recognized as a mas- 
 terpice by The London Spectator and other lit 
 erary English journals. Slowly it came to us as 
 a gem in literature and eloquence, and now, forty 
 years after its delivery, the school boys all over 
 the land know it by heart. " It will live," as a 
 great orator has said, * ' until languages are dead 
 and lips are dust." 
 
 This is the testimony bearing on the writing
 
 300 Letters-Essays 
 
 and reception of this great address so far 'as I 
 have been able to learn. I trust in giving it I 
 have hurt the feelings of none, and injured not 
 the admiration of any, for I myself look upon 
 Abraham Lincoln as the grandest and noblest 
 character in our history, if not in tall history. 
 
 Many years ago an item went -the rounds of 
 the press that the original manuscript of the 
 speech was sold for $335. Gladly would I give 
 that sum for it. Who purchased it or where it 
 is now held I do not learn. The facsimile copies 
 which we have are taken from the copy of it 
 made by Lincoln for the soldiers and sailors fair 
 held in Baltimore in 1864. 
 
 To enter into the full spirit of this address 
 we should, for the moment, fancy ourselves in that 
 great cemetery of the dead, in the sight of Little 
 Bound Top and Cemetery Ridge, with the war 
 still going on. 
 
 LINCOLN'S ADDRESS. 
 
 Four score and seven years ago our fathers 
 brought forth on this continent a new nation, con 
 ceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition 
 that all men are created equal. Now we are en 
 gaged in a great civil war, testing whether that 
 nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedi 
 cated, can long endure. We are met on a great 
 battle-field of that war. We have come to dedi 
 cate a portion of that field as a final resting place 
 for those who here gave their lives that that na 
 tion might live. It is altogether fitting and 
 proper that we should do this. But, in a larger
 
 Lincoln's Gettysburg Address 301 
 
 sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate, 
 we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, 
 living and dead, who struggled here, have conse 
 crated it far above our poor power to add or de 
 tract. The world will little note, nor long re 
 member what we say here, but it can never for 
 get what they did here. It is for us, the living, 
 rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work 
 which they who fought here have thus far so 
 nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here 
 dedicated to the great task remaining before us, 
 that from these honored dead we take increased 
 devotion to that cause for which they gave the 
 last full measure of devotion, that we here highly 
 resolve that these dead shall not have died in 
 vain; that this nation, under God, shall have a 
 new birth of freedom, and that government of the 
 people, by the people, for the people, shall not 
 perish from the earth. 
 
 NOTE. On sending a copy of this address to the Hon. 
 John Hay, Secretary of State, Washington, D. C., he replied 
 that he owned two drafts of the address in Mr. Lincoln's 
 handwriting, thus practically refuting the story that it was 
 written on the train to Gettysburg.
 
 2>r. IRe^nolb flfo. 
 
 NDER the mutations of time, and, as many 
 believe, the dispensation of the Almighty, 
 Dr. Reynold M. Kirby, rector of Trinity 
 Parish, was called hence early in the 
 morning of February 6th, 1906, while sitting in 
 his study, his attitude in every way denoting that 
 the final summons came to him while in perfect 
 ease and composure, unannounced and unaccom 
 panied with trial or sorrow or pain. It was a 
 lovely way in which to die, if the time be come, 
 and a fitter place could not be than in his study, 
 where he had worked and wrought so many years, 
 surrounded by his books, his desks and his pic 
 tures of noble characters and loved ones upon the 
 walls, into whose faces he had looked so often for 
 memories, for comfort and for inspiration. 
 
 Death came to him as the sweetest slumber 
 comes to childhood, and it was eminently fit and 
 proper that it should -so come. Indeed, I cannot 
 keep back the thought that the Almighty was 
 thus kind to him in return for and in recognition 
 of his gentle, loving and noble life and living. 
 
 Dr. Kirby, as he wais familiarly called, had been 
 with and amongst us for just twenty-four years 
 on the day preceding his death. I knew him well
 
 DR. REYNOLD M. KIRBY
 
 Dr. Reynold M. Kirby 303 
 
 and intimately for more than twenty years, and 
 I loved him. His frank, honest, open, candid na 
 ture found and won friends for him at once on 
 his coming, and very soon he had our people, high 
 and low, rich and poor, for he recognized no 
 phases in life, in the kindliest fellowship, which 
 he kept and held without mar or blemish till the 
 end. Though of a thoughtful nature, perhaps se 
 rious at times, his face would ever light up at a 
 word or a greeting. 
 
 As he walked the streets it was a great -charac 
 teristic of him to drop the head forward with his 
 hands locked behind him, as if thinking or in deep 
 meditation, which was the case, as was shown by 
 his surprise on meeting a friend who addressed 
 him. 
 
 He was not only an intelligent man, but in 
 tellectual as well, the long and patient study to 
 attain which was plainly shown in 'his face. He 
 had the look of the scholar, and such he was. 
 Many young men and women went to him for aid 
 when sore perplexed and distressed in their 
 studies, both for mental and financial assistance. 
 His very soul went out to those who were strug 
 gling to complete their course in school and un 
 able to do so for want of the necessary means. 
 Many are the students who have reason to thank 
 him for help in time of need. If he had not the 
 money he obtained it of kindly disposed people, 
 many of whom would not have given it but for 
 his solicitation.
 
 304 Letters-Essay* 
 
 But greater than this, he had the tenderest care 
 for and interest in the destitute and abject poor, 
 especially of his flock, though he did not wholly 
 confine his help and ministrations to them. Un 
 like most men, he somehow heard of them, found 
 them, went in unto them and ministered to them, 
 not lavishly, but kindly and humanely. Always 
 welcome when he entered the homes of the pros 
 perous, what must have been his welcome as he 
 went into these cold, cheerless and destitute homes 
 to cheer, to encourage and to help? What mis 
 sion of man is greater than this? Such a man was 
 Dr. Kirby. 
 
 Then, too, he was upright, pure and honest. 
 Honest with himself and therefore honest with 
 and towards alL If others in this respect weak 
 ened or fell, he did not abjure or renounce, but 
 tendered a helping hand to rise and do better. 
 He fully recognized the frailties and weakenesses 
 of men and that error in many cases should be 
 condoned and the transgressor aided and led into 
 new ways. 
 
 His nature as also his life was really and truly 
 that of brotherly love. And yet, in all his min 
 istrations he did not go to the poor or afflicted 
 with a sad or disconsolate face, nor did he weep 
 nor cry with them. Oh, no. Bather he took cheer 
 and comfort and resolute purpose to rise, to make 
 amends and to get rid of and over troubles. His 
 belief, as also his purpose, was always and ever 
 to help others to rise and not to lift or carry
 
 Dr. Reynold M. Kirby 305 
 
 them. Many instances of his ministrations and 
 of his helping, even where the law would have 
 imprisoned, could be given, but to do so would 
 add nothing among those who knew him so well. 
 
 And though a minister, he felt that he was a 
 citizen, and bore the duties and responsibilities 
 of citizenship. He kept himself well informed 
 and advised on all questions of the day. 
 
 At heart he was a reformer, but he did not be 
 lieve it was the duty of ordinary men to cry or 
 wail over the perfidy and rascality now and then 
 brought to light in political life. It were better, 
 as he thought, to go with the tide which we must, 
 happily and pleasantly, trying the while to 
 cleanse and purify it. 
 
 And more than this, there was no cant or non 
 sense or hypocrisy in his nature or life. He was 
 ever and always just what he appeared to be, a 
 true, kind, loving and lovable man. For very 
 nearly a quarter of a century he has been 
 amongst us, in our homes, offices and business 
 places, always welcome because of the companion 
 ship and good cheer which he brought, and not a 
 word or even a whisper was ever uttered or heard 
 to mar or stain his good name or his character. 
 This is the true test of honor, probity and noble 
 ness of character. In truth, there is no other way 
 in which -to gain and win them, and no one, for 
 such a period, can secure and hold them except 
 by exalted and right living. 
 
 The great attendance at his funeral attests these
 
 306 Letters-Essays 
 
 virtues in Mm and bespeaks the estimation in 
 which he was held by all our people better than 
 any words I can pen. Cut off too early, his work 
 not quite done, his children, whom he dearly 
 loved, just coming into full life to cheer him down 
 the western slope, seems sad, so sad that I am 
 almost tempted to ask, why? I do not, because 
 we are not permitted to know the will of the 
 Father. It must be for the best and we so ac 
 cept it. 
 
 We shall miss him in our stores, shops, offices, 
 on the street and in our homes, for he was wont 
 to be with and amongst us. His memory and his 
 spirit will long linger with us and it is well that 
 they do. 
 
 Departed friend, peace be to thee and to thy 
 spirit. Farewell.
 
 AKI5IK S. LANDERS
 
 Hbbie S. %anbers 
 
 O 
 
 N Saturday, April 21, 1906, our people were 
 both startled and shocked by a telegram 
 announcing the death that morning of 
 Mrs. Abbie Brooks Landers at the home 
 of her cousin, Mrs. Lester C. Shepard, in Somer- 
 ville, Mass., where she had gone only a few days 
 before to rest and to visit. On reaching her 
 cousin's home she had a slight cold which she 
 treated lightly. Growing worse a physician was 
 summoned who regarded her trouble as mental 
 and physical fatigue, only requiring rest and 
 quiet. 
 
 Not getting any better some specialists were 
 called in who regarded her case as serious. A 
 message was immediately -sent to her daughter, 
 Margaret, and son-in-law, Dr. Hugh A. Grant, 
 who were spending a short time at Long Lake, in 
 the Adirondacks. As soon as received they 
 started to go to her, reaching there at noon on 
 Saturday, but too late for greetings or farewell. 
 Her spirit had taken its flight. 
 
 Not until they reached the home of Mr. Shepard 
 did they learn of their mother's demise, though 
 telegrams had been sent to intercept them on the
 
 308 Letters-Essays 
 
 way. "What anguis'h and bereavement must have 
 been that of the daughter as she entered that 
 home. But recently parted in health and in the 
 best of spirits, with a bright, cheerful, happy life 
 before them. How siad, even bewildering are some 
 of the incidents that befall us in life. We mourn 
 and cry, but still they come. It must be that it is 
 all for the best or it would not be so. We see not 
 and know not. 
 
 For some thirty-six hours before her demise she 
 was unable to speak though at times at least was 
 conscious and with her eyes showed that she 
 understood. Just as she was falling into this 
 feeble state, on hearing a door open, she whispered 
 faintly to the nurse the name Margaret, thinking 
 or at least wishing the one uppermost in her 
 thoughts was coming. And soon she passed away 
 with her daughter's name the last upon her lips. 
 
 The love, deep, earnest and sincere held by 
 Abbie (for such she was universally called by 
 all our people) for her Margaret and that of Mar 
 garet for her mother have been the pride and 
 admiration of all. It does not seem possible that 
 two persons could live for or more in one another 
 than did they. Life to them was a blessing for the 
 other. They almost seemed to live to make each 
 other happy. Especially so was this the case with 
 Abbie, since her natural love was intensified by 
 that of motherhood. Gladly would she take and 
 bear all the ills that came to her Margaret. 
 
 Her feeling for, her interest in, her love for her
 
 Abbie S. Landers 309 
 
 Margaret was deep, unalloyed and even hallowed. 
 It filled and pervaded her whole life. For such, 
 at least, it must be there will be a meeting again. 
 God could not thus rend and break such affection 
 without a reunion sometime and somewhere. Let 
 us think and believe that this is so. We are the 
 better for so thinking. 
 
 Abbie, for such she was called, was the daughter 
 of Hon. Erasmus D. Brooks and born in Parish- 
 ville, July 19, 1850. With her parents she came to 
 this village in 1858 where she has since resided. 
 
 As a girl and young lady she was bright, active, 
 vivacious and most genial and social. She was 
 quite an accomplished singer and sang freely in 
 choirs, at funerals and on public occasions. Full 
 of life and good cheer, happy, quick at repartee, 
 she was a welcome guest everywhere. She was 
 the spirit and life of every gathering into which 
 she came. She also possessed extraordinary con 
 versational ability, being apt, versatile, bright 
 and entertaining, be the guests men or women or 
 both. With her present there could be no apathy 
 or dullness. She radiated cheer and life and 
 laughter. Her home was one of much cheerful 
 ness and happiness, and it was seldom there were 
 not guests there to enjoy it. Her hospitality was 
 proverbial. 
 
 And then too she possessed a warm, kindly 
 heart and most generous and hospitable nature. 
 She was ever cheering and comforting the afflicted 
 and sorrowing, and giving generously to the poor
 
 310 Letters-Essays 
 
 and lowly. Many of them came to see her in her 
 last sleep, and it is certain that none of all who 
 came were more welcome to her spirit. She knew 
 everyone iand everyone knew her. No one, no 
 matter how poor and lowly was beneath her greet 
 ing and recognition. This trait, with her bright 
 ness and wholesome geniality made her the 
 beloved of all. 
 
 She married William A. Landers October 30, 
 1877. He was a clothing merchant in Potsdam for 
 some years. He died October 14, 1881. To them 
 were born a son, October 25, 1879, who died two 
 days later and a daughter, Margaret, June 15, 
 1881. Margaret married Dr. Hugh A. Grant, of 
 this village, May 24, 1905. Since her marriage 
 they have lived with her mother. 
 
 The funeral took place on Tuesday, April 24, at 
 her home. There was a large attendance. 
 
 The remains were buried in Bayside with those 
 of her husband, father, mother and three brothers.
 
 CARLTON E. AND SILAS II. SANFORD
 
 TEbe farmer Bo^s of 
 
 H0o anb Bow 
 
 I 
 
 HAVE wondered many, many times in the 
 past whether the boys out on the farms 
 today are the same boys and living the 
 same life as did the boys of half a cen 
 tury ago, and I suppose I shall keep on wondering 
 and with increasing interest till my lips are quiet 
 and the brain has ceased to dwell on the past. As 
 men grow old, get well along on the highway of 
 life and over the summit in their careers and see 
 as the most of them do that they have not achieved 
 in life anything like what they expected to when 
 they were boys, or, even if they partially have, 
 that it does not seem to be worth what they 
 expected, then they are quite apt to pine, seeing 
 that future achievement is at an end, to drop into 
 reveries, to look backward instead of forward 
 and to live the past over again. 
 
 It seems pitiful and even sad to see and listen 
 to an old man who has been a force in a locality 
 unable longer to cope with the younger men who 
 have come to the front and crowded him to one 
 side, telling over and over again as many of them 
 do, the smart things they did, the bold strokes 
 they made, the successes they achieved, and yet
 
 312 Letters-Essays 
 
 it must be all right since it is a quite common 
 characteristic of old age. 
 
 I trust I have not yet quite reached this stage in 
 life though I must confess that my boyhood days 
 are beginning to be a frequent visitor to my mind 
 and the sweetest remembrance in my life. How I 
 would like to go back to them and live them over 
 once again ! Such health and vigor and life. Such 
 abandon and freedom. Such thoughtless spirit 
 and tireless activity. Such rolicksome life, sport, 
 fun and mild deviltry <all intermixed and inter 
 woven, making life from six to fourteen one grand 
 gala day of happiness and abandon. Happy days 
 those. No particular cares or responsibilities. 
 Father and mother were bearing all of these, often 
 it must be said, with aching hearts. Do what 
 they would they knew that the father's interest 
 in them and the mother's love would come to the 
 rescue as they returned at night tired and sleepy, 
 little thinking of the real worth and value of that 
 interest and that love. Oh! if they would but 
 listen to and heed the advice, admonitions and 
 these prayers how benignly in after life would 
 they render thanks to their parents. 
 
 But I am digressing. Are the boys out on the 
 farms today as healthy, vigorous and robust, and 
 do they have as much fun as did the boys of fifty 
 years ago f I would like to know what manner of 
 boys they are and what their life is. How they 
 and thair life compare with those of fifty years 
 ago. I don't suppose I can find out, just the same
 
 The Farmer Boys 313 
 
 I would like to know. Some tell me, and I am 
 tempted now and then to believe that we are 
 slowly deteriorating in size, in robustness, and 
 in virility, both in body and mind, that we today 
 with all our warm clothing, warm houses, and 
 labor saving machinery are not as strong, vigorous 
 and valiant as the pioneers who came in here one 
 hundred years ago and chopped homes out of the 
 forest. If we can believe the stories of our old 
 men, the men of today certainly do not equal 
 those pioneers in size or strength, physically or 
 mentally. I may be wrong, but I take some con 
 solation in explaining this, that only the larger 
 and most vigorous emigrated from New England 
 to this primitive wilderness. Whether this be a 
 full explanation or not, it is quite certain that 
 our present mode of life does not call for nor is 
 it so conducive to lung and muscle building as 
 in those early times. 
 
 I have sought on every occasion for years past 
 to learn what manner of boys are out on the 
 farms today, but, I regret to say, with very little 
 success. I have not taken so much interest in 
 village boys, for I was not a village boy. The 
 homes of the village boys are only a few rods 
 apart, bringing the boys together all the while, 
 and besides they have far more leisure than 
 farmer boys. Then, too, the schools make them 
 acquainted with all the boys in the village. They 
 have something to distract, interest and amuse 
 them all the while. But, with their advantages
 
 314 Letters-Essays 
 
 in this respect, they have temptations which do 
 not beset the farmer boy, such as gambling and 
 billiard parlors, saloons, &c. The farmer boy is 
 free of these, but his life is isolated, and a quiet 
 one. All the sport and fun that he gets he must 
 make himself. 
 
 There is nothing much more certain than that 
 the boy who frequents the saloon for long is lost. 
 It may not be through drunkenness, but through 
 idleness, shiftlessness, damaging associates and 
 loss of interest in all worthy things which can 
 build and develop a young man. 
 
 No, the farmer boys are the ones that interest 
 me. They are the ones who make most of the 
 strong men of the country, great lawyers, states 
 men and captains of industry. 
 
 I know very well that the only way to learn 
 what kind of metal the farmer boys are made of 
 would be to get into a home where there are two 
 or more boys between the ages of eight and four 
 teen, and live with them at least a full year, and 
 see and feel them live in rain and shine, in warm 
 and cold weather. But this I can not do, even 
 could I find a home with such a number of boys. 
 A home of one boy would not do at all. 
 
 I suppose there are yet homes with two or more 
 boys, but I have learned of only one and that has 
 two.
 
 Two Boys in Church 315 
 
 1In Cburcb 
 
 These I saw in church, recently with their 
 mother. They were nearly of the same age, 
 healthy and as full of mild deviltry as an egg is 
 of meat. When they took their seats both were 
 at the left of the mother in the far end of the 
 pew. It was not long before there began to be 
 uneasiness, motion and gentle antics. The mother 
 looked reprovingly and they were still. She must 
 look at the minister else he and others would not 
 think she was worshipful. She did so, and the 
 antics began again, with the boys cocking their 
 heads and rolling their eyes watching her the 
 while to see how much they could do or how far 
 they could go with their fun. Gently it increased 
 till presently the mother half raised from her seat 
 and the boy nearest her slipped along the pew to 
 the other side of her. This brought her between 
 them, she thinking no doubt, as I did, that it 
 would stop the frolic. I was close by and watch 
 ing. Several others were also and smiling, 
 though in church with the preacher telling them 
 the only way in which they could be saved. 
 
 The boys noticed me and turned their bright 
 eyes to me approvingly. What can they do now, 
 thought I. Presently the boy on the left let his 
 right arm 'hang limply over the back of the pew. 
 He swung it a little but the boy on the other side 
 did not notice. Then he quietly scratched the 
 back of the pew. I heard it but the brother 
 didn't. Failing in this he moved a little closer
 
 316 Letters-Essays 
 
 to mother so his short arm could reach and then 
 slowly worked it up to touch him. He knew that 
 would be all that was necessary that he was just 
 as dying to do something as he was. The boy on 
 the right felt the touch, but he didn't jump or 
 disturb mother. Slowly he got himself into such 
 a position that he could let his left arm fall over 
 the back of the pew. Both, with arms limp, 
 remained quiet for a little that mother might lae 
 composed, when the fingers of each began to 
 twitch and play, then hands and arms to swing. 
 Presently they touched, caught, pulled, watching 
 the mother all the while with upturned face. The 
 pulling growing stronger the mother either felt or 
 heard them when she with scorn in look (only 
 apparent, not real) reached and quietly brought 
 two little hands over the pew down beside her and 
 held them in her own. She then had them and 
 thus they sat till near the close. She was proud 
 of them I could see. All mothers are of live boys, 
 just full of the " old nick." I was too. They 
 didn't pay much attention to the preaching nor 
 did I. I can't recall 'a point the minister made, 
 but I shall not soon forget those little boys. 
 
 They took me back fifty years or more. I forgot 
 my surroundings and during that service lived in 
 the past when my brother and I sat on either 
 side of mother in church, so uneasy to do some 
 thing, so restless and fairly aching that we 
 thought we should die.
 
 Few Farmer Boys Now 317 
 
 jfew farmer Bo\>s IRow 
 
 Alas, the boys on the farm have gone or rather 
 I should say, have not come. Eecently I met a 
 friend, a resident of my old school district and 
 we had a little talk on the times of long ago. The 
 district where I went to school had over twenty 
 scholars in the winter term. Over twenty years 
 ago it was thrown up and abandoned for want of 
 scholars. Today there are only two children in 
 the district. The school a mile north used to have 
 over thirty scholars in the winter term and now 
 has six. The district two miles west was of equal 
 size and now has less than ten. Another district 
 a mile east is in a similar shape. And so it is all 
 over the country, especially throughout the east. 
 
 What is the matter? Why is this? I hear and 
 read a great deal as 'to " race suicide " in the 
 cities and large villages, and it is true to an 
 alarming extent, but I did not know that it had 
 extended to the rural districts until I came to 
 investigate a little. 
 
 Were we raising boys out on the farm as they 
 did fifty years ago there would be no such wail 
 ing cry for farm help as there is now, and is 
 likely to be with increasing force. The state of 
 things here will, as matters now look, be soon as 
 bad as it is in Nefw England. 
 
 President Roosevelt may cry " race suicide " 
 from the house tops if he wishes, but it will not 
 avail against the individual action of but very 
 few, if any.
 
 318 Letters-Essays 
 
 Though we do not see it, it may be best that 
 the English race shall disappear or be supplanted 
 by foreigners as it surely will be, the way things 
 are going, within a few hundred years, at least so 
 far as controlling the affairs of this country is 
 concerned. The bright men admit it and say, 
 " What do I care, I will not be here." " It 
 doesn't concern me." After all, does it concern 
 any of us further than I have stated. If what the 
 ministers tell us be true, that only one or at the 
 most ten in every hundred are saved, is it not 
 almost a crime to bring children into the world 
 at all? 
 
 But I would like to know what the few boys out 
 on the farms are, how they live, what their sports 
 are and whether they are as bright and vigorous 
 as those of fifty years ago. I can't go and live 
 with them and so must content myself with a 
 mental inquiry and the story of the life of the 
 boys long ago that those who read these lines 
 may draw their own conclusion. 
 
 IKHblpplnge 
 
 In the first place does father for your little 
 errors and misdoings scold, storm and talk harshly 
 and end up by taking your left hand in his left 
 so that you can't get away and then lay on a 
 switch across the back of your legs, making you 
 dance and jump and cry terrifically? Do you not 
 then resolve that you will never make another
 
 Whippings 319 
 
 misstep or do wrong again, and do you ever keep 
 it ? Do you not slip and fall right away again, so 
 full of life are you, and do you not " catch it " 
 again, making a similar resolve only to fail? 
 When it is over, do you not always see mother 
 coming quietly out of a side room where she had 
 gone not to witness the ordeal, and does she not 
 come to you where you have thrown yourself on 
 the floor or lounge 'crying and sobbing, and does 
 she not tenderly lift you up and say, as only a 
 loving mother can, " Don't cry. It is all over 
 now. It hurts me as much as it does you. You 
 won't do wrong any more, will you?" And 
 doesn't she kiss you and kiss your wet face from 
 so much crying? And when you have become a 
 little calm, doesn't she take you by the hand and 
 say, ' ' Now we will go up to bed, ' ' and as you and 
 she start, does not she ask you in a whisper, as 
 you reach the stairway door, to say " Good 
 nigttt ' ' to father, who has resumed his paper, and 
 doesn't she have to ask you several times as you 
 stand there with the back of your hand in your 
 eye before you can muster the heart to do it? 
 Don't you faintly, but begrudgingly, finally, say 
 it, and does not father reply, " Good night, my 
 boy," without taking his eyes off the paper? 
 
 When you reach the chamber does not mother 
 all the while talking kindly and caressingly help 
 you to undress, and does she not from an unseen 
 source produce a little bottle of liniment 'and pro 
 ceed to bathe the whipped legs? And don't you
 
 320 Letters-Essays 
 
 feel grateful and love her and know that you have 
 one sure friend? When you are in bed doesn't 
 she fix the pillows and the blankets and make you 
 just easy and comfortable ? And when this is done 
 doesn't she bring forth a " little book bound in 
 black " and read some verses to you? Then 
 doesn't she ask you to promise that you will be a 
 good boy and not do wrong any more, and are you 
 not slow to grant her request? Does she not have 
 to ask you two or three times, and when you do, 
 does she not again kiss you as you lay there, turn 
 out the light, and softly go away, looking over 
 her shoulder as she goes? 
 
 Do the boys of today have such experiences as 
 I have related? I know they have the tender 
 sympathy and loving kindness of the mother, if 
 they do, for that is in her bosom and her nature, 
 and nothing but the ecstacy 'of swell society can 
 suppress or drown it. But do you have the 
 whippings? They were pretty nearly universal 
 fifty years ago. I hope you do not. They are 
 brutal and wrong and I do not believe do any 
 good a relic of barbaric times. 
 
 1?e& o Boots 
 
 I suppose the boys of today wear shoes. Fifty 
 years ago we wore boots entirely. Then came 
 boots with a copper toe cap with a red piece of 
 leather at the front top of the boot-leg. Weren't 
 they fine? Well, I think so. No matter how deep
 
 Red Top Boots 321 
 
 the snow, our pant legs were tucked into the boot 
 leg, else the girls and others would not see this 
 red leather as we walked into school. Weren't 
 we proud and didn't we stand up -straight? 
 When recess came, didn 't the other boys and even 
 the girls gather about and make heroes of us, 
 feeling of the red leather and toe piece, saying 
 how smooth the leather was, what a bright red, 
 what did they cost, where did you get them, wish 
 I could have a pair, etc.? Didn't we who had 
 them swell up and strut around? Well, I think 
 so, but it soon passed off and we became plain 
 boys again. As the boys of today wear shoes 
 they can't have any such experience with red 
 top boots. 
 
 You also escape the trials and tribulations that 
 we had pulling on our boots in the morning and 
 off at night, also the dirty job of greasing them 
 with mutton tallow. We all were very proud of 
 our new boots and did our best to keep them black 
 and glossy as long as we could. To do this they 
 had to be greased often. We would put them 
 under the stove at night to dry. In the morning 
 they would be stiff and hard, when we would 
 apply hot tallow to them, usually with a rag, 
 rubbing and working them with the hand till they 
 became soft and pliable, a quite dirty task. 
 
 But the greatest trial was in getting them off 
 at night after being more or less in the water 
 all day. All farmers in those days had what was 
 called a " boot-jack " to assist in doing this.
 
 322 Letters-Essays 
 
 However, this would not do it were they shrunk 
 to the foot closely. The " jack " we used, con 
 sisted of a board a little over a foot in length, 
 some six inches wide, with a V piece sawed out of 
 one end. A block of board was nailed to the 
 under side, just at the foot of the V to keep it 
 from splitting, but more particularly to raise the 
 front end so that the heel of the boot could be 
 stuck hard into the jaw. The party using it would 
 place his other foot on the heel of the jack to hold 
 it in place, and if the boot did not come easy, 
 place the hand on toe of the boot to keep it down 
 that the jaw might the better hold. But, as I 
 said before, if the boot was on tight, which was 
 often the case with us boys, the jack would not 
 bring it. At these times nothing but severe hand 
 work would remove them. We would sit on the 
 floor, take a toe in one hand, heel in the other, 
 pull, and wriggle -and strain, till we were out of 
 breath, cross and petulant. The men would sit 
 by and enjoy the struggle, saying encouraging 
 words, * ' Hang on, you have it started. Pull more 
 on the heel, you'll fetch it next time." Some 
 times we did and sometimes we would only get 
 the heel raised enough to pain us greatly across 
 the instep, when we would get up and hobble 
 about, snivelling and begging of father iand the 
 men to help us. If it was a hard case it was 
 usually done in this wise, The man would take 
 a seat in a chair. We would lie on our backs on 
 the floor in front of him. He would take the boot
 
 Snow Drifts Years Ago 323 
 
 by the toe and heel, place one foot against the 
 end of the body at the juncture of our legs, and 
 pull, and wriggle and twist till he brought it. 
 'Getting them on in the morning was often as 
 hard an ordeal as getting them off. 
 
 The trials with boots years ago, gave the boys 
 bitter trouble and caused more snarling, petu 
 lance, and naughty words, than any other one 
 item in their lives, all of which the boys today 
 know nothing since they wear shoes. 
 
 Snow Drifts Iear0 HQO 
 
 Does the snow fill the roads even with the top of 
 the fences now, and pile up in mighty drifts across 
 the road? Do you sometimes go a whole week 
 without being able to get to the village on account 
 of the snow drifts? When the great storm is 
 over, do the farmers get out the big sled, attach a 
 plow to one side, hitch up a yoke of oxen or a 
 heavy, dull span of horses, get on all the boys and 
 girls and the women the sled can hold to give it 
 weight, and set out to break a road, the men 
 ahead shoveling the great drifts too deep for the 
 team to go into? That was the case every winter 
 half a century ago. I hear you do not have any 
 such storms now. If not, you boys are missing 
 a heap of fun, playing on the big sled, pushing 
 one another 'off, even the girls, into the snow 
 fairly out of sight. What sport we had, too, 
 going to school, walking where we could find it
 
 324 Letters-Essays 
 
 on -the top of a stone wall, which was entirely 
 buried! Losing it we would fall in out of sight 
 between the wall and the snow bank. What sport 
 and what fun. 
 
 "Rivalry In Scbool 
 
 Do you have great rivalry in the school room 
 now to excel in classes, or are there not enough of 
 you to evoke it? In the spelling class do you 
 stand in a line as you did at the close of the 
 previous day, except that the one who was at the 
 head has gone to the foot, and when one misses 
 and the next spells it correctly, does he or she 
 step in front and above the one missing, making 
 the other move down ? That was the way we did, 
 and, as I look back upon it now, I think it unkind 
 and even cruel. Why should not the one who 
 moves up pass behind the unfortunate one I Does 
 the one who wins now step out quickly and 
 brusquely take the place above, often crowding 
 and elbowing the other down? Does the one who 
 misses often seem dazed, cry and stand in her 
 place till forced down? Isn't that hard, and 
 especially with the boy going up chuckling, as he 
 always does? Cruel little rascal, he ought to be 
 taken out in the shed and whipped. 
 
 That was the way it was years ago and prob 
 ably is yet, such is the nature of the boy. I was 
 a pretty good speller and every day got from the 
 foot to the head or near it. One girl gave me the
 
 OLD TIME SPELLING CLASS 
 
 PULLING OFF BOOTS
 
 Rivalry in School 325 
 
 most trouble of all and, when she did slip, I 
 walked above her, weeping and crying, like a 
 young lord. I am now ashamed of the way I did 
 it. But I well remember having the conceit taken 
 out of me one day by a stripling that I shall never 
 forget. A boy by the name of Francis Abbott 
 came to our school to visit me. He was a year or 
 two younger than I, small of his age, tow-headed, 
 and his nose needed wiping. It was the custom 
 then if any strangers were in the school room to 
 ask them to join the classes. Accordingly, the 
 teacher asked Mr. Abbott if he spelled in the first 
 class and he replied that he did. He was asked 
 to join the class already on the floor, and he 
 promptly did, taking his place at the foot, when 
 the spelling began. I was already at the head 
 and with ten or so between Abbott and me, little 
 did I think (if he could spell at all), that he could 
 make me any trouble. But he did. He moved 
 up one notch the first time round, another the 
 next, and the way he spelled frightened me. I 
 looked those over between him and me and I 
 thought he would only be able to get one more 
 peg. But he did. He kept moving up nearly 
 every time round. The nearer he came the more 
 frightened I became. Would the teacher keep it 
 up till that tow-head had got up to me, or to the 
 head of the class, thought I. Doesn't she see 
 what he is doing? Has she not any pride in her 
 class? The girl who gave me my only trouble 
 stood next to me and he had got up next to her.
 
 326 Letters-Essays 
 
 I could see she was as much or more frightened 
 than I. She slipped the very next time and passed 
 down with tears in her eyes. The little tow-head 
 stepped up next to me. Did I congratulate him? 
 Well I think not. I had my hands full to control 
 my nerves, and more too. I spelled correctly the 
 first time after he reached me and so did he. 
 How I did hope he would miss and step down 
 and let the girl come back. For once the rivalry 
 with the girl was over. I could have stepped 
 down for her on that occasion gracefully, but to 
 have that little tow-head walk around me was 
 awful. But he didn't miss. 0, no, he never did. 
 Then I hoped this would be the last time round 
 the class, that the teacher would see the predica 
 ment I was in and stop. But she didn't. Back 
 she came to me with a word and it was ta corker, 
 or at least my fright made it so. I hesitated, then 
 choked and fright had full sway. The teacher re 
 peated the word. I feebly tackled it and missed. 
 " Next," cried the teacher. Mr. Tow-head 
 spelled it and quickly came the response " Cor 
 rect." How it hurt me! I didn't cry, but my 
 eyes were moist as I stepped down next the girl. 
 I don't think she was glad, but had she been a 
 boy he would have been. The teacher, seeing 
 what she had done, went around a few times more 
 to give me a chance, but there was no use, tow- 
 head never missed. The girl, Thurza, and I were 
 mutual friends that day. Neither got a credit 
 mark. She was a healthy, rosy cheeked lass, the
 
 Snow Forts Coasting 327 
 
 first to stir the cockles of my young heart, but 
 soon sickened and passed away. Mr. Abbott died 
 a few years later while in college. 
 
 I wonder if the schools today have great spell 
 ing contests between neighboring schools, going 
 in great sleighloads of boys and girls. What a 
 load of happiness as we slipped along. What 
 laughter, hilarity and abandon! The pride of the 
 district would bring in most of the fathers and 
 mothers, filling the house to its utmost. How 
 eager and earnest they would become as down 
 would go their scholars, especially when a pet, one 
 they had reckoned on, slipped. I would like to 
 give the story of a few of these contests, the pun 
 ishment by ferrule on the hand, making a boy 
 stand for an hour or so in front of the school, or 
 sit with a girl, of the plots and schemes during 
 recess to play rascal when we went back into the 
 school room to annoy the teacher, and even to the 
 extent of throwing him out of doors, but I have 
 taken too much space on the days of the old Red 
 School House and must pass on. I don't suppose 
 the scholars of today have any troubles to speak 
 of. At least I never hear of any. I hope it is 
 not due to a want of health, vigor and life. 
 
 Snow 3fort$^Coa0tin0 
 
 I wonder whether the boys today build snow 
 forts in the school house yard. Probably there 
 are not enough boys in any one school to make
 
 328 Letters-Essays 
 
 it a success. In years agone, one or more of these 
 could be seen about every school house in the 
 country during the winter. When a little thaw 
 came we rolled the snow into monstrous large 
 balls, so large that it would take all the boys 
 who could get to it to move it. How we would 
 lift and push and strain and laugh! Very often 
 it would get so large we could not move it to the 
 place desired, when it would have to be aban 
 doned. If you do build them, do the girls help 
 you? They used to help us, and a few of them 
 were more active and interested than some of the 
 boys. 
 
 When built, do you have mock battles, the boys 
 of one fort attacking and laying siege to those 
 in another? Does the stronger side sometimes 
 get furious, invade the other fort, and destroy it ? 
 We used to have some lively skirmishes, a little 
 genuine fighting, quite a good deal of sniveling, 
 some crying, and considerable " lofty talk " as 
 to what would happen if " he " did that again. 
 But usually the bell would ring before passion 
 got full sway, for the recesses were short, and 
 into the school room all would go, hurriedly, as 
 a happy solution of any trouble, often choking 
 the doorway in the mad rush, not so much to get 
 in as io end the harsh talk and brewing quar 
 rel. To the door would rush the teacher, ferrule 
 in hand. I can see her now. " You boys in the 
 rear, keep back," she would cry. " Now you get 
 up." " Let go of his collar." " Do you hear? "
 
 Snow Forts Coasting 329 
 
 " I said let go." " There, now, yon crawl out," 
 and the jam would be broken, all rushing to their 
 seats, both hands over their mouths, " tickled 
 most to death." Such frolic and such fun. It is 
 a good ways back to that time, and then to think 
 it cannot come again. 
 
 Do the boys today wear yarn mittens of vari 
 ous colors, usually red, knit by mother, with a 
 cord of the same material, attached to each and 
 extending over the back of the neck so that they 
 won't lose them? Those were what we wore 
 and how we wore them. Carding and spinning 
 were then done in many farm homes. I suppose 
 the boys today know little of home-knit goods, 
 but I doubt if those they wear are any warmer. 
 
 But what fun we had coasting and how proud 
 we were of a new sled, especially if it had a bright 
 color or colors. Sometimes a poor boy with an 
 old, unpainted sled could beat the boy with the 
 gay sled for speed, making the latter most un 
 happy indeed ! He couldn 't see why it was, would 
 carefully inspect them for the cause, take his sled 
 home and file the runners to make them smooth, 
 and still the old sled would beat him. Then he 
 would lay it to longer runners or longer posts, 
 anything that the old sled had which was dif 
 ferent from his. I suppose the boys do a good 
 deal of coasting now, since that is an amusement 
 which a single boy can take much pleasure from, 
 though nothing like that when there is a large 
 number of boys and girls with a number of sleds,
 
 330 Letters-Essays 
 
 rushing down the hill one after the other. We 
 used to make up quite large parties and go to 
 a steep hill in the field or on the highway and 
 coast the whole evening long. The girl would 
 usually sit in front and the boy behind, or, if the 
 sled was long enough, lie on his stomach with 
 his feet to the rear for steering purposes. How 
 often would the sled suddenly sheer to one side, 
 by accident or otherwise, usually otherwise, over 
 turning the load, making a great mixture of 
 laughing boy and girl and sled, all piled up in 
 a heap. If the following sled was too near to 
 turn aside, then into the mass it would go, and 
 there would be a double pile-up, creating great 
 merriment in extricating themselves. Covered 
 with snow from the boys ' boot in steering, or mis 
 haps, hurt now and then, up and down the hill, 
 talking and laughing and cheering, till all were 
 tired out, when the party would break up, going 
 to their several homes. Why is coasting such a 
 pleasure to the young? Why will they trudge 
 for hours up a hill to ride swiftly down it? I 
 know not, unless it be the excitement due to the 
 slight danger of a mishap, attendant upon swift 
 riding, or to the reason that they think they are 
 getting a ride for nothing. 
 
 The vehicle we often used in years agone and 
 out of which we got more excitement and more 
 fun than the sled, was what, as I remember, we 
 called a " jumper." It was a very simple affair, 
 consisting only of a hard wood barrel stave with
 
 Doing Chores Riding Steers 331 
 
 a ten-inch post nailed to the inner side, well to 
 wards one end of the stave, with a board across 
 the top of the post for a seat. That was all {here 
 was of it. No trick at all to build it, though it 
 was sometimes troublesome to get a good stave. 
 After a little use, and worn smooth, how " like 
 the wind " they would go. It was quite a trick 
 to keep one's balance and a really delicate trick 
 to steer them, as one can readily see. In fact, 
 there was not much steering done. The slight 
 est overtouch to the crust or track for that pur 
 pose was sure to separate the boy from his jumper 
 and to throw him rolling down the hill. The 
 jumper worked the best when there was a great 
 crust on the snow. Then we would go to a great 
 hill in the field where there was freedom for the 
 " sled " to go where it pleased. If there was a 
 ridge in the side hill or a buried stone making 
 a great jumping-off place, how into the air we 
 would go as we went over these places, seldom 
 lighting right side up on the jumper, when we 
 struck the crust again. That was the trick we 
 aimed to do. They were tottlish and uncertain, 
 but speedy. The girls seldom tried them. I won 
 der do the boys ever use them now. I have not 
 seen or heard of one in years. 
 
 H)oin$ Cbores^lRibtn^ Steers 
 
 I wonder if the boys today have to do chores in 
 the morning, during the noon hour and after
 
 332 Letters-Essays 
 
 school. Most of them did fifty years ago. And 
 out of this we had lots of fun, stealing moments 
 to ride the colts and even the steers. The latter 
 was often more exciting than riding the colts as 
 round the yard they would go. The danger of fall 
 ing forward onto their horns I suppose intensified 
 the interest. One day my brother, the boldest one 
 of all the boys, did fall forward and was caught in 
 his clothing by the horns of the steer, lying hori 
 zontally across the steer 's face, blinding him, or 
 nearly so. How the steer did run from yard to 
 yard ! A pack of boys had gone home with us to 
 do the noon chores quickly, so we would have a 
 little time for sport. They all followed the steer 
 shouting and hollering, frightening the steer still 
 more, and calling out to my brother to fall off. As 
 if he could. He was scared nearly to death and 
 crying like a good fellow. All we could do was 
 to follow. No one dared to get in front of the 
 steer, since he being blinded in a front view was 
 quite liable to run over and trample us. Against 
 the side of the barn the steer would go, head on, 
 but, fortunately, the horns stood out well forward 
 and protected the boy. Then the steer would turn 
 and take another course and away he would go. 
 But he was getting tired. Presently the cloth 
 ing on one horn gave out, and brother took a 
 perpendicular position hanging by one horn, but, 
 fortunately, with his head upright. After a lit 
 tle his clothing, which was caught by one horn 
 and held his entire weight, gave way and he was
 
 Praying for a Rainy Sunday 333 
 
 free. We ran to him and anxiously inquired after 
 and looked him over. His clothing was in bad 
 shape, but aside from many bruises he was not 
 badly hurt. We finished the chores at once and 
 went back to school, all but brother. Mother had 
 to patch him up. We didn J t ride steers any more. 
 No one wanted to. After this we were content 
 with colts. I wonder if the boys today ever ride 
 steers. 
 
 for a IRatns 
 
 When I was a boy, half a century ago, we lived 
 a few miles from the village church. Mother 
 dearly loved to go to church and father, as it 
 seemed to us, didn't care whether he did or 
 not, but went quite often to please mother. Her 
 main object, I now think, was to get her two 
 boys into the atmosphere of the church, that they 
 might be softened a little and helped. She surely 
 did not need any preaching herself. A more de 
 mure, quiet and deeply religious person did not 
 live. Just the same, we boys did not like to go, 
 especially in the summer time. We liked mother 
 and it pained us to show our displeasure, but what 
 could we do? We wanted to romp, be stirring, 
 looking for something to interest and amuse our 
 selves. If we went, then we had to stay up 
 wards of an hour longer in the Sunday school, 
 and that we dreaded most of all. That was a tax 
 indeed. I wonder if the farmer boys now drive
 
 334 Letters-Essays 
 
 some miles to church and Sunday school, and 
 whether they like to go? 
 
 Most every Saturday night, and I guess every 
 one in the spring, summer and fall, my brother 
 and I, on going to bed, would turn to a discussion 
 of the weather on the morrow. Each would give 
 and make the best points he could that it would 
 rain or severely threaten to. That was just what 
 we wanted, and our argument, like that of many 
 older people, was simply the product of our 
 wish. We often and many times really prayed 
 that it would rain or, if God could not grant this, 
 that He would make it look as if it surely were 
 going to do so. And with this on our lips we 
 would go off to sleep, the pure and sweet sleep 
 of childhood, blessed rest. On awakening our 
 first thought was to rush out of doors and take 
 a look at the heavens. If bright and clear my 
 brother would say: " God didn't hear you last 
 night, I knew you were not talking loud enough. ' ' 
 And I would reply, that He didn't hear him 
 either. Feeling a little blue, we would proceed 
 to the barnyard to our milking, and a little later, 
 dressed up some, go to church. 
 
 painting tbe IRooster 
 
 One Sunday morning I well remember. It did 
 not rain, but it looked very much as if it might. 
 Those were the ones we liked, especially if it 
 cleared away after it was too late to go. It did
 
 PAINTING THE ROOSTER 
 
 WASHING BOY'S FEET
 
 Painting the Rooster 335 
 
 this day and we began to grow restless to do 
 something. Mother had to keep busy till ten 
 or eleven to clear np her morning's work. Father 
 would not disturb us we knew. He was as full 
 of fun as we, and enjoyed it as much. Out in the 
 yard my brother said: 
 
 " What can we do? " 
 
 " 0," I replied, " I don't know. We must not 
 make any noise for it is Sunday. ' ' 
 
 11 I'll tell you," he said, after thinking a little, 
 * ' what we can do. That big white rooster is boss 
 of the red one and he has strutted around here 
 and been boss long enough." 
 
 * ' What are you going to do about it ; he is the 
 best fighter and how can you help it? " in 
 quired I. 
 
 " Well, I'll tell you," he replied, " I have a 
 plan whereby the red rooster can be boss for 
 awhile. It is too bad he has to go round alone 
 all the time. No hen will go near him, and if 
 one should, the white rooster gets mad about it 
 and chases him away. He is a hog, that's what 
 he is, and I would like to see the red one boss for 
 a time." 
 
 " All right, I would too. It ain't fair, but how 
 are you going to change it? " I inquired. 
 
 " We can do it easy enough." 
 
 " Well, how is it? " 
 
 " Get them to fighting." 
 
 11 That can't be done. The red one is afraid 
 of him."
 
 336 Letters-Essays 
 
 11 Yes, it can." 
 
 " How? " 
 
 " We will catch the white one and then take 
 that stick of red chalk in the shop and paint him 
 red. The red rooster won't know him and will 
 pitch into him for a fight. ' * 
 
 " But he will get licked if he does." 
 
 " He is much larger than when the white one 
 whipped him and may be he can whip him now. 
 If we see he is going to get whipped I'll help the 
 red one." 
 
 " How <?an you do that? " 
 
 " Why, I'll take the white one by the legs and 
 let the red one peck him till he has got enough. ' ' 
 
 The plan when fully presented seemed feasible. 
 It would afford amusement any way. We both 
 agreed that it was only a fair thing to do. 
 Slowly, for it was Sunday, we started out to find 
 the white rooster. Spying him at last back of 
 the barn, we decided that the best way to catch 
 him would be to drive him through a door which 
 happened to be open into the barn. This we 
 cautiously for some time tried to do, but he 
 seemed determined not to go in and he didn't. 
 We rushed him at last, but he dodged us with 
 a great flutter. Then we decided that the only 
 way was to run him down. Our legs were longer 
 than his. We could tire him out if nothing more. 
 Accordingly, after him we went and we kept it 
 up for some time. Our greatest fear was that 
 he would get into the front dooryard, when the
 
 Painting the Rooster 337 
 
 " jig would be up," but we succeeded in head 
 ing him off every time. After a half -hour he was 
 getting tired, and so were we. Father had just 
 built the under pinning wall, six feet or more 
 in height, for a hog barn. No building had as 
 yet been put on. There was no opening in the 
 wall except on the back side a doorway down 
 to the ground. As luck would have it, the tired 
 rooster went in this doorway and then we saw 
 we had him. He was too tired to fly over even 
 a six-foot wall. Beaching the door, I held it 
 while my brother went in and captured him with 
 out much difficulty. Then I went and got the 
 chalk. Returning, I plied it to his great white 
 neck and his breast, but it slipped over it, leav 
 ing but very little stain. We were in a dilemma. 
 But my brother was equal to it. 
 
 " Let me get him so he can't get away, and 
 then I will spit on him and the chalk will paint 
 him all right." 
 
 He did, and it went much better. He was 
 fluttering all the time, but we soon got him 
 pretty well painted. My brother was sitting on 
 the edge of a trough facing the doorway. My 
 back was to it. I was sitting on my feet. All at 
 once the rooster seemed to make an extra strug 
 gle and away he went. 
 
 " What did you let him go for? " I asked. 
 " He is not done enough." 
 
 There was no response, but there was a sad and 
 solemn face, with head hanging low. I knew
 
 338 Letters-Essays 
 
 something was up, though not a voice nor any 
 noise had I heard. Rising, there stood mother in 
 the doorway, with a sad and disconsolate face. 
 She had the little book ' * bound in black ' ' in her 
 hand. 
 
 " My boys, my boys! Don't you know it is 
 Sunday and that what you have been doing is 
 wicked? Come and sit down with me. I want to 
 talk with you." 
 
 We took a seat on the trough on either side 
 with the near arm in her lap, and listened to her 
 quiet, easy and earnest pleading to be good boys 
 and not to be naughty. We thought it wasn't, 
 that it was just play and fun, but she insisted 
 that it was, done on Sunday. Then she read a 
 chapter or two from the " little book bound in 
 black," and explained it to us as she went along. 
 It was good, of course, though I cannot recall 
 the chapters or the teaching they expressed. I 
 wish I could. I would read them again. We 
 were then too full of spirit, life and, shall I say, 
 mild deviltry, to have them impress us, saying 
 nothing of restraining us. She remained with 
 us a long time, quietly teaching and pleading, and 
 until we began to get physically restless and un 
 easy to be moving and doing something. The 
 great restraint on such spirits drives them mad, 
 or at least, into recklessness. She plead with us 
 to go in the house with her, but that to us was 
 terrible. Then she begged of us not to play any 
 more, to let the rooster alone. We finally prom-
 
 Painting the Rooster 339 
 
 ised we would not finish chalking the rooster, 
 and she softly and slowly took her way into the 
 house. After she had been gone some moments 
 my brother had me boost him up that he might see 
 over the wall and whether she had gone into 
 the house. She was just entering as we did this. 
 
 We walked about the enclosure a little >and 
 then out into the open. Presently my brother 
 asked: 
 
 " How red did we get him? " 
 
 " I don't know, quite a good deal on the 
 breast. ' ' 
 
 " Do you think the red rooster will know 
 him? " 
 
 " I hardly think he will." 
 
 " If he doesn't they will fight." 
 
 " What is the wrong in going round to see if 
 they have got together? " 
 
 " I don't see as there is any." 
 
 ' * Nor do I. If they are fighting, they are, our 
 going don't make them fight." 
 
 Accordingly we strolled round the barn, slowly 
 and as if on no errand, whistling and throwing 
 sticks as we went, but there was no rooster there. 
 On we went in the same way up and into the big 
 yard, where sure enough he was. The red rooster 
 not knowing him, had sailed in for a fight. They 
 evidently had just begun and were going it with 
 a vengeance. 
 
 We stood and watched them for a while and 
 then got a stick to whittle, found a sunny place
 
 340 Letters-Essays 
 
 where we could sit down with our backs against 
 the barn. Settled in our seats, my brother said: 
 
 " This can't be wicked, to sit here in the sun 
 shine and whittle and visit. If we hadn't come 
 or should go away they would keep on fighting." 
 
 " I don't either. We are not making them 
 fight. They were fighting when we came. ' ' 
 
 " Which do you think is going to win? The 
 white one jumps the highest." 
 
 " He seems to be braver and pluckier, too." 
 
 " I wish the red one could beat." 
 
 ' ' See him turn. He is going to quit. ' ' 
 
 * ' No, see, he has come back again. ' ' 
 
 " But he is cowardly about it." 
 
 " Well, he can't find any fault with us. We 
 gave him a chance." 
 
 " There he goes, tail down, and the white one 
 after him." 
 
 " He has given up. He won't turn again." 
 
 The white one was still boss and the red one 
 continued to scratch and cluck, but no hen came 
 to eat the grub he found. 
 
 Was that wicked for lads so full of life that 
 they had to do something or go verily mad? 
 Don't the boys now-a-days get up a fight with the 
 neighbor's rooster, or watch a good fight between 
 their own? Or have they become so good that 
 when their own roosters get to fighting they go 
 and stop them?
 
 Chapped Feet 341 
 
 Cbappefc jfeet 
 
 I wonder when the boys now lay aside their 
 boots, or rather shoes, in the spring. Do they do 
 it just as soon as they can stand the cold ground? 
 We did fifty years ago, and I am sure as early 
 as the fifteenth or twentieth of May, depending 
 on the season. Is it not just fun to get your feet 
 on the earth again? How the toes dig into the 
 ground and help to run. How nimble of foot one 
 feels, and how much faster one can run ? How we 
 hated boots. We shook them as soon as we pos 
 sibly could, and didn't put them on in the fall 
 till father or mother made us till after there had 
 been several frosts. 
 
 Do your feet get grimy with dirt, and don't 
 those of some of you greatly chap and crack and 
 even bleed! Ours did half a century ago, but 
 still we would not put on boots. We preferred 
 to go barefoot, even though we had sore feet. 
 When the day's play and work are over and you 
 have gone into the house preparatory for the 
 night, does not mother call to you from the wash 
 room? Don't you know what it means, and do 
 you reply? Doesn't she call you a second and 
 a third time? And then don't you hear father's 
 strong and stern voice: 
 
 " Boys, you go to your mother, and no more 
 fuss." 
 
 Then don't you start, twisting and half snarl 
 ing, and doesn't father say: 
 
 " Stop that, don't let me hear any more of it? "
 
 342 Letters-Essays 
 
 And when you reach the wash room are there 
 not, according to the number of boys, one or two 
 bowls on the floor, filled with warm water, and 
 doesn't mother ask you to stand in them and let 
 your feet soak for a time? When they have, 
 doesn't she give you a chair to sit in, and doesn't 
 she, out of her heart, after a day's hard toil, sit 
 down on her feet, and, taking one foot at a time, 
 begin to wash them, talking pleasantly the while f 
 And when she applies some home made soap, 
 don't you jerk and twitch your foot and half cry 
 and talk naughty? Doesn't the sudden jerking 
 of your foot often cause her to fall over? And 
 does she not right herself and just as pleasantly 
 proceed with the work, pleading with you to be 
 quiet, that she is doing it for your good? And 
 doesn't she get almost worn out with your 
 naughtiness, especially when there are four such 
 trials, four feet to wash? When they are finally 
 washed and she puts on, if chapped, a solution 
 of reduced vinegar, don't you fairly jump and 
 dance and cry out, and then don't you hear 
 father's stern voice: 
 
 " Stop that. Let me hear another word and 
 I will go out there? " 
 
 When the vinegar has seared the wounds a lit 
 tle, does she not gently smear the foot with cream 
 and softly rub it in? That is what they did long 
 ago. Perhaps the mothers of today have pleas- 
 anter remedies, and perhaps the farm boys don't 
 go barefoot. I don't know.
 
 Chapped Feet 343 
 
 Think of the toil and sacrifice of a mother with 
 three, or two, or even one boy, doing this every 
 night all summer after a full day's labor. There 
 were a few mothers years ago who did not do it, 
 I remember, and their son's feet were verily black 
 with dirt, but there were only a few of this class. 
 
 You boys of today, when you are older, as I 
 am, will be ashamed of your naughtiness to 
 mother, revere her memory and wish she could 
 come back, that you could apologize and tell her 
 how dearly you love her. Be good to her now, and 
 then you will not have that to regret in after life. 
 As you pass out of boyhood you will not again 
 receive in this life such tireless care, such un 
 selfish devotion, such a boundless love, limited 
 only by her strength. 
 
 I make no apology for closing what I have here 
 said with the beautiful poem by Whittier on The 
 Barefoot Boy: 
 
 Blessings on thee, little man, 
 Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan! 
 With thy turned-up pantaloons, 
 And thy merry whistled tunes; 
 With thy red lip, redder still 
 Kissed by strawberries on the hill; 
 With the sunshine on thy face, 
 Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace; 
 From my heart I give thee joy, 
 I was once a barefoot boy! 
 Prince thou art, the grown-up man 
 Only is republican. 
 Let the million dollared ride! 
 Barefoot, trudging at his side, 
 Thou hast more than he can buy 
 In the reach of ear and eye, 
 Outward sunshine, inward joy; 
 Blessings on thee, barefoot boy!
 
 344 Letters-Essays 
 
 <>R> Swimming Ibole 
 
 I wonder if the boys go in swimming as much 
 as they did years ago and have as much fun in 
 doing it! Are there enough boys *of you now to 
 build a dam in the meadow brook? Years ago a 
 lot of us would meet on an agreed upon evening 
 at a certain point in the brook to build a dam. 
 Each boy would agree to bring a board or plank 
 for the purpose. Some would undress and get 
 in the brook to hold stakes and planks in place, 
 to press the sod thrown to them by the others 
 in the proper places. Others would be scouring 
 the fields for grass, stone and brush, anything to 
 make it tight. What life and enthusiasm! As 
 the water rises, doesn't it, all at once, sometimes 
 break around the end of the dam in the soft bank 
 and wash it away surprisingly fast ? And doesn 't 
 it sometimes take your dam, too, when the end 
 stakes give way? Don't you gather about, slap 
 your legs and laugh, to see the rushing torrent? 
 When the pond is all gone, doesn't it suddenly 
 occur to you that it would be well to rush down 
 the brook and save your plank? When you get 
 back with them, don't you begin to think, to 
 reason a little on the power of the water dammed, 
 and to use some judgment in the selection of the 
 next site? That is the first step in engineering. 
 We often had to build several before we got one 
 that would stand, and, I suppose, you do, if you 
 are swimming boys. 
 
 How early, I wonder, do the boys of today be-
 
 Little Deviltries 345 
 
 gin to go in swimming? Years ago we did in 
 May, for I well remember a couplet my grand 
 mother, who happened to be at home one evening 
 as we were starting off for the swimming hole, 
 repeated to us: 
 
 "Boys who go swimming in May, 
 Will soon lay in clay." 
 
 We impatiently waited to hear her as she re 
 quested, but as soon as said, we bounded off on 
 the run, over the fences, across lots*, disrobing as 
 we neared the brook, that not a moment should 
 be lost. Wasn't it sport as we swam, splashing 
 the water, getting on to and sinking one another, 
 throwing balls of mud against those who were 
 quitting and on the bank to dress, making them 
 come back in to wash, diving from the bank, and 
 chasing one another up and down the stream. 
 Glorious times, those. 
 
 Uittle Be\>iltrte0 
 
 There were a good many little deviltries at 
 our home and in the neighborhood, I must admit 
 in those distant years. I guess there were more 
 than there are now. I like to think so, at any 
 rate. Indeed, I do think that all the while we 
 are growing more gentle, more kind and more 
 loving. Our house, for some reason, seemed to 
 be the gathering place for the boys of the neigh 
 borhood. When father and mother would drive 
 away, we would lustily call to the boy in the next
 
 346 Letters-Essays 
 
 house, and lie to the next and so on. Pretty soon 
 the road would be full of boys, on the run, to 
 our place, where play, fun and some mischievous- 
 ness would begin. Therefore, my brother and I 
 should not be charged with it all, by any means. 
 I cannot recall a hundredth part of the games 
 and " deviltries " that were perpetrated, and it 
 would not be worth while if I could, since they 
 were the same as those done by other boys in 
 those days, and probably more or less in these. 
 
 The first real deviltry that I recall was when 
 my brother and I were four and five years past, 
 respectively. Our father and mother had gone 
 to Vermont and we were in the hands of Betsey 
 Conner, the hired girl. Out in the road to play, 
 my brother caught a frog. Holding it in his 
 hands, he said to me: ** If you will take the cover 
 off the tea kettle, I will put the frog in the ket 
 tle and scare Betsey." It struck me as a fine 
 proposition and I readily assented. Betsey was 
 then preparing a meal. We slid into the kitchen, 
 and as Betsey stepped out, I lifted the cover and 
 he dropped in the frog. We had some square 
 blocks in the corner of the room, with which we 
 began to interest ourselves, that we might wit 
 ness the developments a little later. 
 
 It was not long when Betsey rushed up to the 
 tea kettle, with the tea pot in one hand, stooping 
 over 'and taking hold of the tea kettle bail with 
 the other, she tipped it up to fill the pot. As she 
 did so she screamed out loudly, backed up a lit-
 
 Boy Inside a Barrel 347 
 
 tie, sat down heavily on the floor, dropped her 
 tea pot, and pulled the kettle off the stove on to 
 the floor. We saw at once that we had overdone 
 it, and that there was a " hot time " coming for 
 us. We were so frightened that guilt plainly 
 showed in our faces, and so plainly that Betsey 
 got up and went at us without any ceremony. We 
 had no trial of our guilt. She cuffed and spanked 
 us most vigorously, and until there was a great 
 mixture of blocks and lustily yelling boys. 
 Whether the frog came clear out of the nose of 
 the tea kettle or only stuck a leg out we never 
 learned. We were too much disturbed to find out, 
 and Betsey would not have told us bad we in 
 quired. We told father when he returned, what 
 a whipping we had received, and instead of sym 
 pathy, came near getting another. Like many 
 others, this piece of deviltry was never repeated. 
 
 Bos Unsifce a Barrel 
 
 I vividly recall the trick or game of rolling a 
 barrel with a boy in it. Our yard was full of 
 boys that day. Some one suggested the trick. A 
 barrel was got, open at one end, and stood upright 
 near us. The boys formed a circle and I repeated 
 a sing-song jargon we always used to determine 
 the one who should first do the trick. I am in 
 debted to my sister, Alice, for the one we used. 
 She alone has held it in her memory all these 
 years. It was as follows: " Query, Lowery,
 
 348 Letters-Essays 
 
 Tickery, Tee, Hillibone, Crackabone, Temb&ree, 
 Queever, Quaver, English Naver, Stringlum, 
 Stranglum, Buck." The boy on whom the word 
 Buck fell was elected. The boys everywhere had, 
 and I hear still have, a jargon similar to this, 
 though hardly any two localities have the same. 
 The boy determined, it was all hustle and bustle 
 to perform the act. The unfortunate chap hap 
 pened to be my brother. He was laid across the 
 open end of the barrel. Some one laid his hand 
 across his hips and with great jollity cried out: 
 " Double up," and he dropped into the barrel, 
 out of view, like a closed jack knife. Instantly 
 the barrel was laid on its side, given a kick and 
 away it went down a gentle decline, across the 
 door yard and into the field, an entire distance 
 of some ten rods or more. All the other boys on 
 the run kept up with the barrel, and when it came 
 slowly to a stop, eagerly peeked into it to see 
 how brother enjoyed it. He was as limp as a rag, 
 pale as a ghost, had nothing to say to the jeering 
 boys outside, and the barrel was lined with his 
 dinner. It didn't look at all as if he had had <a 
 good time. It was very plain that he was sick. 
 He made no move to get out, and so we pulled 
 the barrel from him. He lay on the grass for a 
 few minutes when, on getting fresh air, he sat 
 up, soon stood up and then began telling us how 
 fine and lovely it was, that it was the greatest 
 ride he ever took. All seemed to doubt it, smeared 
 as he was, and to think that his pretty talk was
 
 Feeding Corn to Hens 349 
 
 to get one of us to try it. No one seemed inclined, 
 all shook their heads and pretty soon took up 
 some other game. That was another item of play 
 that was never repeated. 
 
 3feeMn<j Corn o f>ene 
 
 One day some neighbor's boys were with us, 
 when some one suggested making a hole through 
 a few kernels of corn and tying the long hair of 
 a horse's tail to them, and feeding them to the 
 hens. No sooner was it suggested than the corn 
 and hair were got, properly tied, thrown on the 
 ground and some hens quietly driven to the spot. 
 Spying the corn, they swallowed it suddenly. As 
 soon as they had done so they began to sneeze 
 and back up. We boys fell to laughing at a great 
 rate, lay down on the grass and rolled and 
 laughed at their antics. They kept up their strug 
 gles, scratching their throats with their toes, 
 sneezing and coughing, till they got so tired they 
 would sit down and tumble over, and then we 
 would laugh some more. Getting tired of it after 
 a while, we stepped on the horse hair and re 
 lieved them of their trouble. 
 
 It was not only naughty and wrong to do this, 
 but actually cruel. I am almost ashamed to tell 
 it, and would not were I not trying to tell a truth 
 ful story of boyhood life long ago. I hope it is 
 better now, and that no such things are done.
 
 350 Letters-assays 
 
 Cutting ft Goes 
 
 When my brother and I were five and six, or 
 six and seven past, I can not tell which, our play 
 ing was carried one morning to the extreme. 
 Father had drawn some long, heavy logs into 
 the door yard to be hewn for the building of a 
 barn. They were up on low skids. It was Mon 
 day morning and father had just started for Can 
 ton as a juror. I began to run backward and 
 forward on the front log to the house, when my 
 brother appeared with an axe and began to chop, 
 or probably I should say, chip, in about the mid 
 dle of the log. He objected to my running on 
 the log and insisted on my taking another, but I 
 refused, saying it was my log, that I took it be 
 fore he did. But he was obstinate, held his 
 ground and kept pecking at the log. I got by 
 him several times without much trouble, though 
 he was threatening to cut my foot if I did not 
 stop. On my last trip he called to me as I ap 
 proached to stop, held the axe aloft and threat 
 ened to cut my foot if I went by. I thought I 
 could pass before he could strike. Balancing 
 myself on my right foot and holding the left up, 
 watching him, ready to spring by when I thought 
 the moment opportune, I made a spring, but his 
 axe caught my left foot, just back of the toes, 
 and nearly severed them. Then there was wail 
 ing and crying in dead earnest. This was play, 
 different from anything we had ever had. There 
 was great pain this time, and much blood.
 
 HI Cutting Off Toes 351 
 
 Mother came rushing out, calm as ever, but heroic 
 in the extreme. She had things moving at once. 
 The hired man was sent for a doctor, my brother 
 sent to get Judge Sanford, and soon many neigh 
 bors had gathered. When grandfather came and 
 learned all the facts, he took it upon himself, in 
 the absence of father, to whip brother soundly. 
 I could hear him yell outside and didn't much 
 care. 
 
 In an hour or so Dr. Sprague came. They put 
 me in a high chair, with grandfather holding my 
 shoulders. The hired man, a big burly fellow, 
 held my left leg, while mother looked after the 
 other, pouring out her pleading and sympathy all 
 the while. 
 
 The doctor had a great bent needle of silver or 
 silver plated, which he pushed up through the 
 skin, near the edge of the wound. How it did raise 
 up the skin before it would go through and how 
 I did struggle and yell! It took them all to hold 
 me, boy that I was. In the midst of it, for a 
 change, the big hired man went over on his back 
 on the floor, white as a sheet. Mother ran and 
 soon returned with a dish of water, which she 
 dashed into his face. At first I thought he was 
 dead, but he soon began to revive. When he had, 
 sufficiently, they resumed operations on me. 
 
 That was the saddest experience in my boyhood 
 or in our neighborhood. Perhaps I should not 
 here tell it, I don't know. I am giving boyhood 
 life fifty years ago, and should I not tell its bad
 
 352 Letters-Essays 
 
 side as well as its pleasant? Otherwise we cannot 
 measure up the conduct of the boys of that day 
 and this. We are growing better, though the 
 spirit of deviltry is not yet eliminated from boy 
 hood and will not be for ages to come. Why a 
 healthy boy is so full of it, is more than I can 
 comprehend. Up to a certain age they do not 
 seem to sense what is cruel or wrong, and some of 
 them, I am pained to say, seem destitute of all 
 feeling, pity or sympathy. It is not so with little 
 girls of the same age and why should it be with 
 boys? It is comforting to think that it will not 
 be ages hence, when the proclivities of our ances 
 tors are more fully eliminated from our natures. I 
 hope the farmer boys of today, have already 
 reached a point, where they do not play so 
 harshly, or do such cruel things as I have related 
 herein. 
 
 ZTbe 2>o0 anb tbe Cow0**btetle0 in pasture 
 
 I suppose there are thistles in the cow pasture 
 still. Anything that is mean seems to thrive and 
 live. Good things have to be cultivated and 
 looked after with great care. It always seemed 
 to me that this is wrong that the law of nature 
 should be just the reverse. But it is not, no doubt 
 for some good purpose. 
 
 When late afternoon comes on I suppose the 
 boys today still start out, whistling for the shep 
 herd dog who comes bounding to you, jumping
 
 &fi& - ;> > 4 
 
 <#i* *" 
 
 BOY INSIDE BARREL 
 
 BOY AFTER COWS THISTLES IN FEET
 
 Dog and the Cows Thistles in Pasture 353 
 
 upon and often tumbling you over, so happy to 
 take a trip that he can't contain himself. And 
 don't you get up a little mad, and throw sticks 
 and stones at him? And doesn't he run away drop 
 his tail and look appealingly at you sidewise, say 
 ing, though your youthful mind does not catch it, 
 " Don't be provoked at me. Don't throw stones. 
 I like you, and I am so pleased to go with you 
 that I wanted to tell you. I can't talk, and so I 
 have to express myself by my actions." Don't 
 you think that next to mother, you will find no 
 more true and loyal friend than the dog? Did you 
 ever read the couplet of Sir Walter Scott on the 
 dog that went away on a tramp with his master 
 who took suddenly sick back in the hills and laid 
 down and died? The dog stayed by, nosed his 
 face, watched him for a movement long and weary 
 hours and nights, and died by him of starvation. 
 John Fiske says it is the saddest and most path 
 etic ever penned. 
 
 " How long didst thou think his silence was slumber? 
 " How oft didst thou start when the wind stirred his gar 
 ments? " 
 
 In the last few years I have read of three similar 
 cases, showing that the case of which Scott wrote 
 was not an isolated one. So don't throw stones 
 nor wantonly hurt the dog. 
 
 Though you stone him, as you start out, doesn 't 
 he follow or run ahead out of reach, then run play 
 fully back to see if you are still cross? If he had 
 been a boy and you had thrown stones at him he
 
 354 Letters-Essays 
 
 would not have gone with you. He would have 
 told you to go and get the cows alone. 
 
 Is there not now a main cow path from the 
 barn yard well out into the fields, and then does 
 it not take on many branches, all growing 
 fainter till they are lost? Don't you follow the 
 main one as far as it goes and then the largest 
 branch, because of the smoother walking, and to 
 keep free from the thistles 1 And when you come 
 to a depression in the path filled with water after 
 a rain do you not with your bare feet and bare 
 legs nearly up to the knee, run through the water 
 backwards and forwards making it splash and 
 dirty, forgetting for a time your errand and when 
 it comes to you, do you not run to make up lost 
 time? And if you come to another puddle don't 
 you forget all about your lost time and go through 
 the same performance I 
 
 As you go listlessly along do you whistle and 
 throw stones at the little yellow birds, ground 
 birds and bobolinks sitting on the stakes of the 
 fence? I hope you do not. I trust the boys are 
 now better than when I was a boy. I regret to say 
 we were doing it a great deal, but as I recall with 
 pleasure we seldom ever hit one of them. It is a 
 shame. They all gladden the field with song 
 and make it cheerful. 
 
 When you reach the cows are you not hoping 
 they will be in a bunch, and do you not always 
 find them greatly spread out on the rear line? 
 That seems to me the way I always found them.
 
 Dog and the Cows Thistles in Pasture 355 
 
 When you get full sight of them, do you not begin 
 to plan what is your best course to pursue to 
 gather them into a bunch? You know the traits of 
 each cow, which timid, which afraid of the dog, 
 which dull and slow to start, and don't you 
 plan accordingly? We did so fifty years ago. 
 And don't you send the dog after the dull 
 and slow ones? They don't much mind him, 
 just turning as they move along, and shaking 
 their heads at him just enough to keep him 
 from biting their heels. As you yourself cut 
 over to the right to start up a cow and when 
 started, over to the left to start another, cry 
 ing out all the while to them to move, the 
 dog flying hither and thither, all animation, 
 and wishing you would give him an order to go 
 and bite their heels, don't you forget father's 
 order not to set the dog on the cows, and do it 
 every now and then? I did. And when running 
 about the field, don 't you now and then and pretty 
 often get thistles in your feet, and don't they 
 make you cross and cry betimes? Are they not 
 so bad sometimes that you have to sit down, let 
 the cows go for awhile, pull the injured foot as 
 far up the other leg as possible, bend away over 
 and make a long inspection for the object of your 
 trouble? It was often the case when I was a boy. 
 And if you are some little time at it, doesn't the 
 dog come to you and kiss you as you sit there, 
 and stay with you till it is over? And when you 
 start off again, don't you sob a little and go prac-
 
 356 Letters-Essays 
 
 tically on one foot for awhile f 0, the thistles, how 
 I hated them. But for them it would have been 
 fun to take the dog and go after the cows. Per 
 haps the cows come to the barn now without the 
 use of the boy and the dog. A feed of meal may 
 bring them, or perhaps the boys now wear shoes. 
 I hope so, if there are thistles. 
 
 Sore Coe0**Stone Bruises 
 
 I wonder if the boys of today know anything 
 about sore toes and stone bruises. They were 
 common, years ago and the latter was a painful 
 and most troublesome affair. The sore toes came 
 almost entirely from stubbing them. If one got 
 stubbed a little, that one was sure to get hit again 
 and make it worse. A pack of boys could not take 
 much of a run without at least one of them stub 
 bing his toe, often compelling him to sit down 
 and look it over and nurse it, the other boys going 
 on, and, unlike the dog, leaving him to his fate. 
 Sometimes it would be so bad he would go back 
 home to his mother. In her there was always a 
 friend. In most of cases he would soon get up 
 and follow on, half limping and half jumping. 
 When reaching the others, one of them, if he 
 thought of it, might ask: " What was the 
 matter? Stub your toe? Oh, that is nothing. " 
 Most every boy then had one or more toes band 
 aged, done up by his mother, all the while. A boy 
 without a toe wound up was the exception.
 
 Sore Toes Stone Bruises 357 
 
 And this reminds me of the story Mr. Lincoln 
 used to tell. A stranger on the highway came to a 
 boy who was in sore distress and inquired : ' * What 
 is the matter? " and the boy replied: " 0, I 
 stumped my toe and it hurts too much to laugh and 
 I am too big to cry." Many a boy was in that fix. 
 
 But the stone bruise was another thing alto 
 gether. That was usually on the heel, but some 
 times on the ball of the foot. They seemed to be 
 deep seated, down next to the bone, and very pain 
 ful if pressed upon. It took them quite a time to 
 show on the surface, but it did not take long to 
 find out that you had one. If you made a mis 
 step, or in any way pressed upon it while running 
 or walking, you were pretty likely to sit down at 
 once, pull up the foot and cry, ' * 0, dear, 0, dear, ' ' 
 so painfully would it ache. And it would sting 
 and pain for some time. On the heel was the pre 
 ferable place to have them. Then one could hobble 
 about pretty lively, using the ball of the foot, 
 carrying the heel high up. If it was on the ball of 
 the foot, the boy's walk, as you can plainly see, 
 was a pretty awkward affair. They nearly always 
 culminated in an open sore, but this soon got 
 well. Mother was the only doctor. 
 
 I wonder if the boys have them now. I hope 
 not. I have not heard of one in over forty years. 
 If they do not go barefoot, then of course they 
 do not. If I knew I should have one if I went 
 barefoot, even though I were a boy again, I think 
 I would wear shoes.
 
 358 Letters-Essays 
 
 Woofccbucfcs fln flbe Mall 
 
 Do you have woodchucks still, and when you 
 hear the dog barking for a time, do you run about 
 to find out where he is, and when you spy him 
 down in the meadow by the side of a stone wall, 
 all animation, sticking his nose in the wall, then 
 suddenly stepping back, wiggling his tail vio 
 lently, and barking fiercely all the while, do you 
 go on the run to him, well knowing what is in 
 the wall? And does not the dog, as he sees or 
 hears you coming, rush away to meet you and 
 then back to the wall, repeating it till you reach 
 the spot? And when you reach it, do you not 
 half stoop with hands on your knees and move up 
 and down the wall, and when you spy the wood- 
 chuck, do you not cry out: " There he is " and 
 proceed to pry out the stone, no matter though 
 it be a new wall, so that Sport can " at him? " 
 Is not the dog fierce, and does he not get in your 
 way, and do you not have to take him by the 
 back of the neck and throw him over backwards, 
 so that you can get at the stones that are in the 
 way? And when you have secured a passage and 
 let the dog in, doesn't he often get bitten on the 
 nose half pulling the woodchuck out by the grip ? 
 Then doesn't Sport change his bark to a sharp 
 " ki yi," turn about and rub his nose with both 
 paws? Then don't you have to make a bigger 
 hole in the wall before he will tackle him? When 
 he gets him, doesn't he bite and shake him most
 
 Man's Work 359 
 
 furiously? And are you not, as you watch him, 
 proud of Sport? Do you patch up the wall or 
 walk off and leave it? Do you know why you 
 are proud of him or why you should be? I don't 
 think you do, and I think it would be hard to 
 explain, unless it be the animal that is in us. 
 You and the dog have taken a life, and with 
 about equal pleasure. Years ago we did the 
 same, but I would not do it now. The softening 
 influences of time, and a greater knowledge of the 
 philosophy of life, have made me look differently, 
 and more compassionately upon all such things. 
 I now know not what moral right I had to take 
 life wantonly, or even at all, except in defense 
 or possibly for food. 
 
 flDan'0 THHorfe 
 
 I wonder at what age the boys of today are 
 put to real work, not the plowing or the chop 
 ping of wood, but picking stones, piling wood, 
 dragging, raking hay and milking. Years ago 
 they were put at such work as early as ten years 
 of age, and at fourteen, often put with the men 
 hoeing and digging potatoes, cradling, binding 
 grain, pitching hay and many other farm labors. 
 I now think they were put at heavy labor at a 
 too young age, and trust it is not now being done. 
 Then it was claimed that it was good for the 
 boys, that they grew under it, that it built bone 
 and muscle and made them robust and strong.
 
 360 Letters-Essays 
 
 On the contrary, in some cases, at least, I am 
 now sure it stunted growth. There is not now 
 the occasion for the pressing of boys into service 
 that there was years ago, because of such great 
 advance in farm tools and machinery, and I hope 
 they are not worked as hard at a young age as 
 formerly. 
 
 Mrestling 
 
 Years ago there could not be a barn or house 
 raising, a logging bee, caucus or town meeting, 
 without a " two ol' cat " game of ball, or wrestl 
 ing contest, or both, among the men. Some of 
 these, like the Davis boys of Stockholm, Au 
 gustus and Robert McEwen of Lawrence, Jonah 
 and Eollin Sanford, and Eollin Bedee of Hopkin- 
 ton, were men of great strength, and expert at 
 wrestling. There was considerable excitement at 
 all these contests, the people, as they always do, 
 taking sides. A ring would be formed, the peo 
 ple intently watching the contest and taking part 
 with their mouths, telling their pet as he would 
 emerge from a terrific struggle: " Look out. 
 Don't let him get that lock on you again. That 
 is his favorite game. Don't you see he is play 
 ing for it all the time? " 
 
 Many of these contests did I witness as a boy, 
 though, being a boy, I was not allowed to get to 
 the inner circle of the ring. That was reserved 
 for, or, at any rate, taken by the big, strong men.
 
 Wrestling 361 
 
 Nearly all of the wrestling was what was called 
 " collar and elbow," though some " side hold " 
 and less " back hold " was done. 
 
 The lads would often gather by themselves and 
 have a wrestling contest of their own. These 
 were often quite as exciting and interesting as 
 those of the grown men. I heard of several oc 
 casions when the men became so excited that they 
 got to fighting, but I never happened to witness 
 such a scene. 
 
 The games of today are scientific base ball, la 
 crosse, hockey and basket ball, all harsh and 
 dangerous except the latter, and only played in 
 the cities and larger villages. The farmer boys 
 must now find it difficult for amusements. 
 
 Aibout every evening when the day's work was 
 over, at every farm home where boys congregated, 
 there would be wrestling of all kinds, and jump 
 ing in all ways, " pulling sticks," " turning 
 broom handles," lifting heavy objects, till it be 
 came too dark to do so any longer. They were 
 never too tired to indulge in these vigorous 
 sports. Wrestling was even on the decline when 
 I was a boy, and, by the time I had become full 
 grown, say 1870, it had practically disappeared. 
 I wonder if the boys of today indulge in wrestling 
 at all. I have not heard of a wrestling contest in 
 many years.
 
 362 Letters-Essays 
 
 Straw USBefcs 
 
 After a day's work and these hard and long 
 wrestling contests, we would go to our straw 
 beds, with a rope corded bedstead, and sleep as 
 only the tired and just can sleep. I wonder if the 
 boys today sleep on a great bed of straw. We 
 did in years agone. As I remember, the tick was 
 filled about once every year. When first filled 
 how " swelled up " and high they were. How 
 we used to sink down into them. My brother, 
 about as near my age as he could be without be 
 ing a twin, and I, slept together for years. We 
 had great sport in those big straw beds. In get 
 ting into them how noisy they were at first, till 
 the straw got broken. And then, too, a big straw 
 or coarse stalk would stick into us every now 
 and then, making us open the tick and get it 
 out. 
 
 If the boys today are using them let them be 
 quite content. They are all right and the 
 " breeding " place of great men and women. 
 More eminent men by a hundredfold slept on 
 straw beds when boys than ever slept on hair 
 mattresses. Simply try and get the latter when 
 you are along in life, and lame, and stiff, and 
 need them. 
 
 I wonder if the boys of today have great " pil 
 low battles " after they go to bed. Of course 
 they do not, unless there are two boys of about 
 the same age who sleep together. There must be
 
 Straw Beds 363 
 
 at least two boys to have a good time at any 
 thing. We used to have pillow battles very often 
 for some years. They would arise from all sorts 
 of trivial causes, such as a warm discussion over 
 having one or two comfortables over us, pulling 
 the clothes out at the foot, taking the other's 
 pillow, insisting on lying in the middle of the 
 bed. These discussions would bring on a great 
 scuffle and struggle on the bed, throwing it into 
 a greatly mixed and dilapidated condition. One 
 or both were sure to land on the floor, when a 
 pillow would be grabbed by the open end and re 
 volved till the twisted pillow case made a pretty 
 firm ball of the pillow, when we would belabor 
 one another terrifically over the head all through 
 the chamber. After a time the chamber door 
 would open and a stern voice would come up the 
 stairway: " Boys, quit your fooling and go to 
 bed. Do you hear me 1 If I hear any more noise 
 I will go up there." Did we stop? Well, nearly 
 so. Angered more or less, there were often a few 
 more wallops, if either got a good opportunity, 
 but seldom enough to bring father up to see us. 
 Well we knew what that meant. Those pillow 
 battles were great sport, since one could be so 
 fierce and terrific, knocking one another over, and 
 yet doing little or no harm.
 
 364 Letters-Essays 
 
 AHUng 
 
 How we used to hate to milk! I do believe 
 that it was and is the greatest trial that comes to 
 the farmer boy. It is so quiet and so prosaic to 
 sit on a stool beside a cow and keep squeezing a 
 teat, and when that cow is done, take your stool 
 and go to another. I suppose you boys of today 
 are put at it as we were, as soon as the grip of 
 the hand becomes sufficient, say nine or ten years 
 of age, beginning with the easy milking cows. 
 Do not father and the men also at first tell you 
 the easy ones and praise you! They did us. Do 
 you know why? They don't like milking and so 
 welcome any help, though it be the easy cows. 
 But isn't it tedious and irksome to sit by a hot 
 cow in 'the summer time for an hour or more when 
 you want to play or go swimming, and especially 
 during fly time? We used to milk entirely in the 
 open yard. Now, I hear, the most of the farmers 
 milk in a stable, even during the summer. In 
 this you have one advantage over the boys of 
 my time. The cows can't walk away and leave 
 you sitting on the stool, nor do you have to fol 
 low them up as we did, carrying stool in one hand, 
 pail in the other, approaching them gently when 
 they came to a stop, saying softly: " So, boss; 
 so, boss, ' ' and as we very gently took a seat have 
 them walk off again. How out of patience we did 
 sometimes get, following them up and pleading 
 for them to stop! "We couldn't whip them with
 
 BOY MILKING 
 
 TEACHING CALVKS TO DRINK
 
 Milking 365 
 
 father in the yard, and for the further reason that 
 if we did we could never get them to stand. So 
 we had to smother our ill feeling, and that was 
 a good deal for a boy to do. 
 
 But in the stable, they can, I suppose, switch 
 their tails in the milker's face, as freely as in 
 the yard. Perhaps the flies are not so bad in the 
 stable. I don't know. When we got a good swipe 
 in the face, how mad for a moment we would 
 get! It hurts a boy that don't like to milk. I 
 wonder if the boys now tie the tail to the cow's 
 leg or put it under them on the stool and sit on 
 it. We used to do so often, but never till driven 
 to it by desperation, for the reason that when 
 the cow wanted to strike some flies that were 
 biting her and tried to use her tail and found 
 she couldn't, she was quite liable to get nervous 
 about it and walk off suddenly, making quite a 
 mixture of milk, pail and boy. 
 
 Still, we got some fun milking out in the yard. 
 All sorts of frolic were resorted to, to enliven the 
 stillness and monotony of the yard. One would 
 naturally think that while milking, men and boys 
 could talk all the while, visit and tell stories, 
 since they are only using the grip of the hand, 
 but for some psychological reason, a milking 
 yard is usually about as silent as a graveyard. I 
 know no reason for it unless all are intent on their 
 work to get through with it as soon as possible. 
 To infuse a little fun into its dullness we resorted 
 to all kinds of antics whenever we safely could.
 
 366 Letters-Essays 
 
 If a hen came strolling by she was pretty sure to 
 get a stream of the milk in her eye. How she 
 would run and shake herself! Oftentimes it 
 would make us laugh so hard we would fall off 
 our stool and lose our cow. If no hen came along 
 and we had an opportunity we would shoot a 
 stream against the side of a cow opposite, being 
 milked, to cause her to walk off and leave the 
 milker wondering why she did so. At other times 
 we would shoot a stream high up, that it might 
 fall in a milk mist on a milker on the other side 
 of a cow. Another trick was to milk into a fel 
 low milker's pocket when we could. We had to 
 do something to relieve the stillness and monot 
 ony. 
 
 To encourage us and to get us to milk with 
 better grace, I remember father, on going to Ver 
 mont for a visit, told us he would give us a cent 
 for each cow we milked in the morning, and a 
 half-cent for each one at night, while he was 
 gone. It was in the fall and the mornings at 
 daybreak were mighty frosty. We were much 
 elated, however, and asked the hired men to 'call 
 us in the morning. They did so, but had to shake 
 us rather violently to rouse us. We sat up, rubbed 
 our eyes, and finally told the men we would come 
 right along. When -they had gone on, my brother 
 said : ' ' It is worth more than a cent a cow to get 
 up <at this time." " Yes, I think it is too," I re 
 plied, " but father has gone and we can't get 
 any more." " Say," he retorted, " let us milk
 
 Milking 367 
 
 more cows at night and let the mornings go." 
 " No, I am going to try it this morning, any 
 way." " Well, if you do I will." 
 
 Accordingly we dressed and proceeded to the 
 yard, rather dark, chilly and frosty. The cows 
 were all lying down. We got them up very 
 gently, so that they would not move away from 
 the warm places their bodies had made. We 
 earned six or seven cents each that morning and 
 entered it in a book, with date, as father had di 
 rected. To see that much to our credit greatly 
 pleased us, and we resolved that we would keep 
 it up, but when the next morning came it was 
 just as hard to rise, or a little harder. The nov 
 elty was gone. We knew what it was out in the 
 yard. Brother said it was worth two cents, and 
 I agreed with him. We dropped back on the pil 
 lows and were asleep. The men kept on calling 
 us for a time, but we insisted it was worth two 
 cents and stayed in bed. On father's return our 
 bill was all evenings except the first morning. 
 
 They are now perfecting a milking machine, 
 and I sincerely trust, for the ease and comfort 
 of the farmer, and especially the farmer boys, 
 that it will soon be an accomplished fact. Milk 
 ing has become the hardest trial of the farmer, 
 because of the want of boys and the scarcity of 
 farm help.
 
 368 Letters-Essays 
 
 Cburnino 
 
 Another task even more irksome and tiresome 
 than milking was churning. It was worse than 
 turning the grindstone, since in that case we had 
 company, the man grinding the axe or scythe, 
 and could talk more or less to relieve the situa 
 tion. In churning it was just the boy and the 
 churn and the churn couldn't talk. It was 
 simply turn and turn, round and round. These 
 churnings came every other day with us all the 
 summer long, but less often through the fall. 
 At first, when young and rather light for the 
 work, my brother and I were both put on the 
 job that we might " spell " one another. Later, 
 when stronger, we alternated at the task. When 
 working together we often had rather spirited 
 confabs as to the time each had turned, and finally 
 worked by the clock, five minutes each. Then 
 warm differences would arise as to the speed 
 each worked, the revolutions made in the five 
 minutes. I thought I made more than my brother 
 and so counted them, and called on him to make 
 as many if it took him more than five minutes. 
 He agreed, made the old churn hum, and at the 
 end of three or four minutes said he had matched 
 my " turns " and quit. Fearing he would count 
 fast, I had counted them the best I could, and 
 did not make as many as he, but he was stub 
 born and would not work any longer. After 
 much bickering and some feeling we gave this
 
 Teaching Calves to Drink 369 
 
 up and fell back on the five-minute period. When 
 he would ' * soldier ' ' I did also, and it sometimes 
 took a long time to churn, but we did not do 
 much of this when father was near by. 
 
 How often we would raise the lid and take a 
 look at the cream for a sign that it was " com 
 ing." At this we became quite expert, though 
 we were sometimes greatly fooled. There were 
 times when it surely looked as if it would soon 
 turn into butter, but it would not, and then in 
 desperation how we did make the old churn 
 hum. We got about every churn that came on 
 the market, hoping to get one that would churn 
 quickly, but we never did, that is, one that would 
 churn quickly, every time. Sometimes we could 
 churn in fifteen minutes, and at other times, doing 
 our best, it would take two hours, and we never 
 learned the reason, why the difference in time. 
 
 The boys of today escape all this, since 'the 
 milk is all taken to the butter factory, a very 
 fortunate thing for them. Churning was churn 
 ing, sure enough. 
 
 eacbin$ Calvea ZCo Drink 
 
 I suppose the boys today have more of the work 
 of teaching calves to drink than did we of half 
 a century ago, since now I hear nearly all the 
 bossie calves are raised to the age of a few 
 months, when most of them are sold to drovers 
 and shipped to market. Don't some of them act
 
 370 Letters-Essays 
 
 mean and stubborn, and make you cross, and do 
 you not now and then forget yourself and cuff 
 them? They did to us boys fifty years ago, and 
 probably they are just the same today. They 
 do not improve as boys should, for they don't go 
 to school. Do not some of them learn easily by 
 just half sitting in front of them with the pail 
 of milk between your knees, sucking your fingers 
 and following your hand to the milk? Don't 
 others refuse to follow your receding hand, or, if 
 they do not, don't they let go as soon as the hand 
 reaches the milk? Do you not repeat the opera 
 tion till you get vexed and all out of patience? 
 We used to. Then don't you put the pail half 
 over their heads and try to force their noses into 
 the milk, and don't you spill half or all of it over 
 the calf and on the floor and then have to go and 
 get some more? That was the way it was with us. 
 In my time only the boys did this work. It 
 was too humble for grown men, and, besides, they 
 did not have the patience required. On getting 
 your new pail of milk do you not back the calf 
 into a corner, then straddle his neck, set the pail 
 in front, give him your left fingers to suck, put 
 your right hand on the top of his head, gently 
 lower the left hand, and when it reaches the milk, 
 slowly remove the fingers from his mouth, and 
 if he undertakes to raise his head, do your best 
 to hold, and keep it there in the pail? That was 
 the only way we could break a stubborn one to 
 drink. By this course don't you have to try
 
 Killing Calves 371 
 
 many times, and is there not often a mixture of 
 struggling calf, overturned boy and milk pail? 
 There used to be years ago. Perhaps the boys to 
 day have an easier and better way. 
 
 IkUlino Calves 
 
 And now I come to what was to me the saddest 
 and most painful thing in all my experience as 
 a farmer boy. It pains me even yet to think of 
 it. It did not any other boy that I knew of, and 
 I often wondered why I should be so " chicken " 
 hearted. And it has grown on me ever since. I 
 am now more " chicken " hearted than I was 
 then. In my boyhood time all the calves, except 
 a half-dozen or so, had to be killed, and we had 
 a large number. The boys of today escape nearly 
 all of this, 'since nearly or quite all the calves 
 are grown a few months and sold. I hope you 
 are glad of it, for it is not or should not be a 
 pleasant job for a boy of 'tender years to do. I 
 do not just remember, but I am sure my brother 
 and I were put at this work when nine or ten 
 years of age. As I now feel that was all wrong. 
 No boy under eighteen or twenty years should be 
 called upon to do it. It has a tendency to make 
 him hard and cruel of heart. The grown men, 
 whose natures are formed, should do all such 
 work. 
 
 My brother did not look upon it as I did, and 
 it was exceedingly fortunate for me that he did
 
 372 Letters-Essays 
 
 not. Had he viewed it as I did, I can hardly 
 imagine what would have been the result. We 
 would have been in a sorry predicament. As the 
 first task fell to us, on reaching the barn, we 
 found the bossie lying down and asleep with his 
 head turned upon his side. My brother tapped 
 him with his foot, and he got up and stretched 
 himself, verily like a sleepy boy, extending one 
 of his hind legs as far back as he could reach and 
 then trustingly and confidingly approached us to 
 lick our hands. His coat was sleek, and his big, 
 brown eyes trustful and confiding. Slowly he 
 came to us, thinking we little boys would do him 
 no harm, whereas we were there to kill him. He 
 was so trustful and so handsome, with those warm 
 and kindly eyes looking into my own I was all un 
 done and could hardly speak. 
 
 " Well," broke in my brother, " which are 
 you going to do, knock him down or stick him? ' 
 
 Whimpering a little, I replied that I could not 
 do either. 
 
 " You have got to do one or the other. I'm 
 not going to do both." 
 
 ''I can't do it." 
 
 " You can take your choice." 
 
 I pondered as fast as my little brain would 
 work. I knew instinctively that there was no 
 use in going to the house to consult father. I was 
 the older and he would order me to do it. At 
 once I reasoned in this wise, and how happy I 
 was when the thought came to me. It was this,
 
 Killing Calves 373 
 
 to wit: When the calf is knocked down he will 
 be senseless and won't feel the sticking. 
 
 Waiting a little, my brother again asked: 
 " Which are yon going to do? " 
 
 " Can I have my choice for all we shall have 
 to kill? " 
 
 " Yes, I don't care which I do." 
 
 " Well, then, I will stick them." 
 
 Accordingly he did his part and I mine, but 
 well I remember what a task it was. The throat 
 skin was so tough, and I so weak, I feared he 
 would " come to " before I could get it done. 
 And thus we did this work for several years. He 
 kept his agreement, though I was fearing all the 
 while that he would not. His part was far more 
 agreeable to one who could do it, and, I guess, 
 that helped him to keep it. 
 
 But a day came, just as I feared, when he 
 bolted and canceled the old agreement. There 
 were two calves to kill and father told us to go 
 out and do it. On reaching the barn my brother 
 said to me: 
 
 " I've got through, you can take your choice 
 of calves." 
 
 I plead and begged of him to knock mine down, 
 offered to stick both, but there was no use. He 
 was both stubborn and obdurate. Nothing I 
 could say seemed to have any effect upon him. 
 Getting desperate, I told him I would give him 
 the first quarter of a dollar that I obtained if 
 he would do it. Mind you, that was quite a sum
 
 374 Letters-Essays 
 
 in those days, but so set was lie that it had no 
 effect on him. 
 
 Utterly failing, and half crying, I started for 
 the house. 
 
 " Where are you going? " cried he. 
 
 " To the house to see father," I replied. 
 
 " That won't do you any good. Come back 
 here and select your calf. I want to get to work 
 on mine." 
 
 That seemed to be only fair and I did so, se 
 lecting for myself one asleep, partly under a 
 sloping manger. Then I started for the house 
 again, when he called out: 
 
 " What are you going to do with father? He 
 will call you a big baby, and you are. Oome back 
 here and kill your calf like a man. ' ' 
 
 But I heeded him not. Reaching the house, I 
 found father at his desk reading his paper, when 
 he, noticing my discomfiture, inquired: 
 
 " What is the matter? " 
 
 " Won't you come out and knock my calf down 
 for me? " I inquired. 
 
 " No; can't you do it? " 
 
 11 I can't do it. I have begged my brother to 
 do it, offered to give him a quarter, but he will 
 not do it for me." 
 
 " Can't you knock a calf down? " 
 
 " No, I can't, and never did." 
 
 " Never did! How has it been done? " 
 
 " My brother has always done it, and I have 
 stuck them."
 
 Killing Calves 375 
 
 " Well, if you can stick them, I guess you can 
 knock them down." 
 
 "No, I can't." 
 
 "Why can't you? " 
 
 " Because, when they are senseless, it don't 
 hurt them and I can then stick them." 
 
 " What is your brother doing? " 
 
 " He gave me my choice of calves and I sup 
 pose he is killing his? " 
 
 * ' Well, if I am not ashamed of you. Here you 
 are a great big boy, never knocked a calf down, 
 and can't do it. You are a great boy. You 
 ought to have been born a girl. Now you can 
 take your choice. Go out there and kill that calf 
 or I will put girl's clothes and a bonnet on you 
 tomorrow. ' ' 
 
 This nearly killed me. The idea of wearing 
 girl's clothes! What would the boys think of 
 me? Wouldn't I look queer in them? If any 
 thing could nerve me, that would, and it did a 
 little. I went back to the barn with a little 
 stouter heart than I left it. 
 
 " What did father say to you? Did he not 
 call you a baby? " my brother inquired. 
 
 " No, he didn't. He told me to go back and 
 kill the calf." 
 
 " I knew he would." 
 
 I got the hammer, crawled into the manger 
 from the front so as not to disturb bossie, peeked 
 over, and there he lay, still asleep, and innocent 
 of his fate. How glad I was. I feared all the
 
 376 Letters-Essays 
 
 time that I was gone to the house that my brother 
 would go and wake him up. Why he did not I 
 could never see. He was intent on annoying me 
 and even driving me to distraction. Such an op 
 portunity never escaped him before. Had he done 
 so, I should have been in a dilemma indeed. 
 With the calf up, and coming to me with those 
 warm, kindly eyes, I doubt if my horror of girl's 
 clothes and bonnet could have driven me to strike 
 him. Being down, eyes closed and asleep, I 
 reasoned that I could hit him, and he would 
 never know it, pass from sleep to death without 
 conscious hurt or pain. 
 
 Accordingly, I got my hammer to swinging in 
 the proper direction, when, turning my eyes 
 away, struck with all my might. I had done it. 
 There was the usual spasm of struggle, but the 
 blow had done its work. 
 
 That was my experience in this line, and it was 
 a most painful one to me. My brother, boy like, 
 told all the other boys and they nagged and 
 chided me for some time. I presume that some 
 boys, and nearly all men who read these lines, 
 will say: " He must have been a tender, chicken- 
 hearted boy indeed. I don't wonder that his 
 father threatened to put girl's clothes on him, 
 and he ought to have done it. * ' 
 
 Be that as it may, after many passing years I 
 have still the same sensitive feeling against tak 
 ing life. Indeed, it is even more acute than when 
 I was a boy. Until I was sixteen or so I was,
 
 Shooting Squirrels 377 
 
 like nearly all boys, fairly crazy to get a gun and 
 go hunting crows, woodchucks, squirrels, part 
 ridges, etc. 
 
 Sbooting Squirrels 
 
 On my last trip of this kind I entered a piece 
 of woods into which extended a rail fence for 
 some distance. Sitting down and listening in the 
 stillness for the noise of game, I presently heard 
 two red squirrels on the fence. I could see them. 
 They were chasing one another down the stakes, 
 along the rails, jumping from one to another, 
 chirping all the while, and having the time of 
 their lives. Perhaps they were brothers, perhaps 
 mates. I don't know, and it doesn't matter. 
 They were friends at least and enjoying life im 
 mensely. 
 
 With murder in my heart, I crept slyly and 
 quickly to the fence unobserved. They were still 
 as lively at their play as ever, and too busy to 
 stop to be shot. I had a rifle shooting a single 
 ball. The thought came to me that to kill both 
 with a single shot would be a great accomplish 
 ment. Accordingly, I waited for some time for 
 them to get in line. They finally did and I fired. 
 I ran to the spot. One was dead and the other 
 horribly mangled. Out of pity I killed him with 
 a club. Suddenly, as I stood there, strange 
 thoughts flitted through my mind thoughts that 
 had never entered my boy head or troubled me
 
 378 Letters-Essays 
 
 before. ' * What have I done, ' ' thought I. * * Isn 't 
 that a great piece of work ? They were supremely 
 happy happy as ever two children were. Liv 
 ing out here in the woods, gathering their own 
 food, disturbing no one. Was not life as sweet 
 to them as to me? Was it not given to them 
 by the same agency that gave me mine? What 
 moral right had I to rob them of theirs? " 
 
 That was the mood into which I fell, and those 
 are some of the thoughts that came to me, and 
 they have been coming ever since. I shouldered 
 my gun, quit my hunting, and returned to the 
 house. I have shot nothing since. 
 
 And this is my story of farmer boy life half a 
 century ago. There are many, many incidents 
 that have been omitted, though I trust I have 
 given sufficient to give my readers a fair idea of 
 the trials, tribulations, sports and royal happiness 
 of the farmer boy of long ago.
 
 trusts anb Combinations 
 
 HE question of the near future is trusts, 
 combines and great aggregations of 
 wealth. As they shall be settled, in my 
 humble judgment, lies the prosperity and 
 even perpetuity of our free institutions. If they 
 are to be allowed free reign, unlimited sway and 
 with this, of course, unlimited power, so great is 
 the selfishness of man (or should I say rapacity), 
 that I see no escape for this now free republic 
 becoming a plutocracy or some form of a mon 
 archy. "Wealth is power. Great wealth, a com 
 bine of mighty capitalists, has the force, potency 
 and power of a mighty and well generaled army. 
 Great wealth is the mightiest master of the uni 
 verse today. 
 
 The plain intent of a trust, though they always 
 deny it, is to curtail output and in one way or 
 another command the market. Within a few 
 days I read that the great iron 'and steel trust 
 collapsed and that steel rails dropped from $23 
 per ton to some $15 per ton. Where are the lit 
 tle blast furnaces and iron mills that used to be 
 in operation all over the country? All the little 
 mills, so far as we know, have disappeared.
 
 380 Letters-Essays 
 
 The great flour mills of the west, fifteen hun 
 dred miles distant, are able by their volume of 
 business, by the freight rates they are able to ob 
 tain, by the influence which their vast wealth and 
 power command in a thousand ways, to place a 
 sack of flour at the farmer's door, even in our 
 inland towns, cheaper than the local mills can 
 grind it. In consequence the little grist mills all 
 over the country, which only a few years ago did 
 a thriving business, are now either idle or doing 
 only an existing business. The shrinkage in value 
 of the country grist mills alone in the past years, 
 because of the mighty mills of the west, is many 
 hundreds of millions. We do not know, but ven 
 ture the assertion 'that the people of St. Lawrence 
 county pay Minneapolis, Chicago and other places 
 annually for flour and feed at least a million of 
 money. This is all wrong. The people of this 
 county should raise all the wheat they consume, 
 and especially all the coarse grain for stock feed 
 ing. That community is in the best circumstances 
 which comes the nearest to raising its food sup 
 ply for man and beast, and pays out the least 
 money to distant parts. 
 
 Then, too, what has become of the village shoe 
 maker, the wheelright, the tailor, dye house, etc.? 
 
 In the march of the race they have practically 
 all disappeared from among the people, been 
 taken up by great companies, trusts and corpora 
 tions, using vast means, employing the most im 
 proved machinery and thus crushing out all local
 
 Trusts and Combinations 381 
 
 mills, shops and individual work. Single fac 
 tories in the east can alone make all the boots 
 and shoes which the people of one of our most 
 prosperous states require. Against a machine 
 that can do the work of twenty or thirty men 
 what can the poor cobbler do? No 'one will buy 
 of him and keep the money at home if they can 
 buy of the dealer for less money. We 'have not 
 sufficient neighborly unselfish interest to do that. 
 No, we are all so selfish that we all buy where 
 we can buy the cheapest, heedless and thought 
 less of where the money may go. 
 
 Our clothing, woolen and cotton, is nearly all 
 made in distant parts and comes to us ready to 
 put on. We pay for it and the salesman, less 
 a small commission, remits the sum by check to 
 some great factory and we have just that much 
 less cash. What of it, say some? Have we all 
 not a right to buy where we can buy the cheap 
 est? In the abstract, yes, but if we are looking 
 to the good of the neighborhood, no. 
 
 The tendency of the times, through invention, 
 machines that verily breathe and speak, quick 
 express, low postage, iand more than all, great ag 
 gregations of wealth, is to make all rural com 
 munities mere dependencies, hewers of wood and 
 drawers of water. This is the struggle that con 
 fronts the great mass of our people. Wealth has 
 triumphed in England, France, Germany and in 
 all the older governments. The rural classes in 
 all these are poor and wretched.
 
 382 Letters-Essays 
 
 To tell us that the great law operating on and 
 controlling all animal life, including man, is the 
 survival of the fittest, that the strong shall feed 
 on, or control the weak may be true, but it is not 
 very comforting or assuring. 
 
 In the last few years a new element has en 
 tered the struggle. Our country being so vast 
 and so rich in all that tend to make a prosperous 
 people, it has been found that single factories and 
 industries, operating alone, could not control the 
 market, and so of late years great capitalists 
 have been combining, buying weaker plants, 
 shutting their doors, thus limiting the output, 
 etc. As it is now, almost all we eat, use or wear 
 is in the hands of some sort of a trust combine 
 or monopoly. How far it will be carried or where 
 it will end, God only knows. We read in the 
 papers that the coal combine alone took last year 
 over forty million more for coal than the years 
 previous. Who paid it? The consumers, of 
 course. This village's share of this must have 
 been several thousand dollars, and yet no one 
 gave it a thought. So we read that it is with 
 sugar, oil, coffee, tobacco, biscuits and a thousand 
 other articles. These great trusts must, by the 
 government, state or national, be controlled or 
 held within bounds, else the people will at no dis 
 tant day be in bondage. Is not the prime office 
 of government to secure equal and just rights to 
 all?
 
 INDEX 
 
 Abbott, Francis, mention, 
 
 325. 
 
 Aching for War, 91. 
 Address, Lincoln's, 300. 
 Alpine Tavern, 278. 
 An Outing in Canada, 182. 
 
 Boer War, Cause of, 186. 
 
 Mosquitoes, 188. 
 
 Meals, serving of, 191. 
 
 Cuba Beef, 192. 
 
 Snoring in Camp, 193. 
 
 Birch Bark Conoes, 199. 
 
 Sand Flies, 200. 
 
 " Immersion," 200. 
 
 "Fiery Furnace," 203. 
 Athens Versus Bull Dogs, 149. 
 Avalon, port of, 272. 
 
 B 
 
 Barbour, J. W., mention, 56. 
 Batchelder, Henry C, mention, 
 
 13. 
 Berry, Miss Blanche, mention, 
 
 276. 
 Bicknell, Hosea, President of 
 
 Board, 54, 55; picture of, 
 
 facing page 51. 
 Big Trees, 267. 
 Bonney, George W, mention, 
 
 52. 
 
 Boot Jack, 321. 
 Boots, Pulling on and off, 321. 
 Boots, Red Top, 320. 
 
 Boy Inside Barrel, 347. 
 " Counting Out," method of, 
 
 347. 
 Brooks, Erasmus D., sketch 
 
 of, 1'62 ; mentiond, 52; pic 
 ture of, 165. 
 Brooks, Henry Gurley, sketch 
 
 of, 76; picture of, 76. 
 Brooks, Permelia S., sketch 
 
 of, 43; picture of, 43. 
 Brooks, William H., mention, 
 
 16 
 Bull Ring, description of, 247; 
 
 picture of 246. 
 
 California, sketches of, 257. 
 All Crops by Irrigation 
 
 Only, 258. 
 Fruits the Main Crop, 259. 
 
 Calves, killing of, 371. 
 
 Chapped Feet, 341. 
 
 Checker Playing, 11. 
 
 Churning, 368. 
 
 Clark, Simeon L., mention, 
 272. 
 
 Clark, Mrs. Simeon L., men 
 tion, 276. 
 
 Clarkson, T. Streatfield, men 
 tion, 52. 
 
 Clarkson, Thomas S., sketch 
 of, 143 ; mention, 54, 55. 
 
 Cliff House and Seals, 268. 
 
 Coasting, 327, 329.
 
 384 
 
 Conkling, Was He Invited? 
 
 39. 
 Cook, Prof. E. H., mention, 53, 
 
 56. 
 
 Coronada Beach Hotel, 263. 
 " Counting Out," method of, 
 
 347. 
 
 Cows, Going After, 352. 
 Cox, Dr. Henry M., death of, 
 
 183. 
 Cox, James A., mention, 272, 
 
 276. 
 Cutting Off Toes, 350. 
 
 Dart, William A., sketch of, 
 85; mention, 53; picture 
 of, 85. 
 
 Doing Chores, 331. 
 
 Eastman, George L., mention, 
 
 183. 
 
 Echo Mountain, 276. 
 Ellis, D. Frank, Trustee, &c., 
 
 54. 
 Erwin, George Z., sketch of, 
 
 125; mention, 42, 53, 183; 
 
 picture of, 12'5. 
 
 Farmer Boys of Fifty Years 
 Ago and Now, 311. 
 
 Fay, Elliot, sketch of, 99; pic 
 ture of, 99. 
 
 Feeding Corn to Hens, 349. 
 
 Felton, Dr. L. E., mention, 52, 
 &6. 
 
 Few Farmer Boys Now, 317. 
 
 Flag Presentation Col. Jonah 
 Sanford Post, 25. 
 
 Foster, Mary P., sketch of, 
 
 179. 
 Frog in Tea-kettle, 346. 
 
 Going After Cows, 352. 
 Golden Gate, 270. 
 Government Dyke, 271. 
 
 H 
 
 Hackett, Charles L., Trustee, 
 
 picture of, 55. 
 Heath, A. D., mention, 196. 
 Hotel Del Monte, delightful 
 
 retreat, 266. 
 Monterey, City of, 266. 
 The Maze, trouble in, 267. 
 
 Japan and Russia, 222. 
 
 Japanese, religion of, 223. 
 
 Japan, isolation of, 224. 
 
 Russia, government of, 225. 
 
 China, doom sealed, 229. 
 "Jargon," in counting out, 
 
 347. 
 "Jumper," the, 330. 
 
 K 
 
 Killing Calves, 371. 
 
 Kirby, Dr. Reynold M., sketch 
 of, 302; mention, 52, 182, 
 188, 193; picture of, 302. 
 
 Knowles, William L., men 
 tion, 211. 
 
 Land Locked Harbor, 263. 
 Landers, Abbie S., sketch of, 
 307; picture of, 307.
 
 Index 
 
 385 
 
 Leland Stanford, Jr., Univers 
 ity, 283. 
 
 Lemon, James, mention, 55. 
 
 License or No-License? 59. 
 
 Lick Observatory, 280; pic 
 ture of. 
 
 Lick Observatory, description 
 of, 280. 
 
 Lincoln's Gettysburg Address. 
 When and Where Pre 
 pared, 291. 
 The Address, 300. 
 
 Little Deviltries, 345. 
 Frog in Tea-kettle, 346. 
 
 M 
 
 Man Only, Wars on his Kind, 
 244. 
 
 Man's Work by Boys, 359. 
 
 Mathews, Isaac, mention, 55. 
 
 Maze, The, 267. 
 
 Mclntyre, John G., sketch of, 
 174; picture of; examina 
 tion of "Peel" Willey, 
 169; mention, 183. 
 
 McKay, Dr. James S., men 
 tion, 182, 188, 193. 
 
 McKinley, William, sketch of, 
 206. 
 
 Merritt, Gen. E. A., mention, 
 62, 53. 
 
 Mexican Bull Fight, 246; pic 
 ture of. 
 Bull Ring, description of, 
 
 247. 
 
 Matadors Fighting, Way of, 
 250, 251. 
 
 Bull Enraged by Spears, 
 251. 
 
 Horning the Horses, 252 
 Swording the Bull, 254. 
 
 Milking, dull and dreary 
 
 work, 3'64. 
 
 Milking for Pay, 367. 
 Mother, 110. 
 Monterey, city of, 266. 
 Mount Lowe, Ascent of, 275. 
 
 Echo Mountain, 276. 
 
 Alphine Tavern, 278. 
 Mt. Hamilton, seat of Lick 
 Observatory, 280. 
 
 On the Lawn with the Birds, 
 
 113. 
 Oranges, trees of, description 
 
 of, 259, 260. 
 Seedless, 261. 
 O'Sullivan, John, mention, 
 
 196. 
 Oyster Farming, 133. 
 
 Painting Rooster, 334. 
 Palo Alto, city of, 283. 
 Pasadena, city of, 264. 
 " Peel " Willey, examination 
 
 of, 169. 
 
 Pert George, mention, 55. 
 Pillow Battles, 362. 
 Potter Hotel, 266. 
 Prayer in War, 72. 
 Praying for a Rainy Sunday, 
 
 333. 
 
 Redlands, 262. 
 
 Smiley Heights, beauty of, 
 
 262. 
 
 Red Top Boots, 320. 
 Reynolds, Dr. Jesse, mention, 
 
 52, 53.
 
 386 
 
 Index 
 
 Riding Steers, 331. 
 Rivalry in School, 3'24. 
 Riverside, city of, 259. 
 
 Orange Growth, center of, 
 
 259. 
 Orange ( Trees, beauty of, 
 
 260. 
 Lemon, Fig, Olive, Grape 
 
 Fruit, trees of, 260'. 
 Seedless Orange, discovery 
 
 of, 261. 
 Robinson, Guy E., mention, 
 
 189. 
 
 Russell, Judge Leslie W., 
 sketch of, 214, picture of. 
 
 S 
 
 San Diego, city of, 263. 
 Land Locked Harbor, 263. 
 Coronada Beach Hotel, 263, 
 
 Surf at, 263, 264. 
 Sanford, Col. Jonah, sketch 
 
 of, 26; picture of. 
 Sanford, Jonah, Jr., sketch of, 
 34; picture of; mention, 
 31. 
 
 Santa Cataline Island, 271. 
 Government Dyke, 271; 
 Small Boat and Deep 
 Swells, 272; Avalon, a 
 nook in Island, 272. 
 Seals, feeding 1 of, 273. 
 Sea Gulls and Pelicans, 
 273. 
 Tuna, fishing grounds for, 
 
 274. 
 
 Santa Barbara, 265. 
 Potter Hotel, 266. 
 Santa Cruz, 267; Big Trees, 
 267, 268. 
 
 San Jose, city of, starting 
 point for Mt. Hamilton, 
 280. 
 Scott, Sir Walter, couplet of, 
 
 353. 
 Seals at Cliff House, 268. 
 
 Feeding of, at Avalon, 273. 
 Sewers and Board of Trus 
 tees, 46. 
 
 Shooting Does, 80. 
 Shooting Squirrels, 377. 
 "Sitting" with Dr. Henry 
 
 Slade, 15. 
 Smiley Heights, beauty of, 
 
 262. 
 
 Snell, Hollis, mention, 52. 
 Snow Drifts Years Ago, 323. 
 Snow Forts, 327. 
 Sore Toes, 356. 
 Sorrowing Woman, statue of, 
 
 284. 
 
 Spelling Class, picture of, 324. 
 Spider and Man, 233. 
 Spider, skill of, 233. 
 A Cruel Demon, 234. 
 Man, complacency of, 235. 
 Might. Is it a Divine Prin 
 ciple? 233. 
 Warfare the Rule in Animal 
 
 Life, 238. 
 Nature helps the Weaker, 
 
 240. 
 
 Slaughter by Man, 241. 
 Should Man Kill to Eat? 
 
 242, 243. 
 Man Only, Wars on his 
 
 Kind, 244. 
 Stanford University, trip to, 
 
 283. 
 
 Statue of Sorrowing Wo 
 man, 284.
 
 Index 
 
 387 
 
 Stone Bruises, 3&6. 
 
 Story, Harvey M., mention, 
 
 55. 
 
 Straw Beds, 362. 
 Struggle to Live, 113. 
 Swift, Theo. H., mention, 183. 
 Swimming Hole, The, 344. 
 
 Tappan, Charles O., sketch of 
 156; picture of; mention, 
 52, 53, 55. 
 
 Tappan, Ogden H., Great 
 Work on Board of 
 Health, 56. 
 
 Teaching Calves to Drink, 
 369; picture of. 
 
 The Dogs and the Cows, 352. 
 
 The "Jumper," 330. 
 
 Thistles in Pasture, 352; pic 
 ture of boy. 
 
 Trusts and Combinations, 379. 
 
 Tuna, fishing grounds for, 274. 
 
 Two Boys in Church, 315. 
 
 Vance, Carrol, mention, 81. 
 Vance, John A., mention, 53. 
 
 W 
 
 Wadleigh, Luther E., mention, 
 
 55. 
 Walling, William H., Trustee, 
 
 &c., 54, 55; picture of, 54. 
 War, Aching for, 91. 
 War. Is it a Divine Method? 
 
 222. 
 
 War. Will it ever cease? 105. 
 Was Conkling Invited? 39. 
 Webster, Daniel, Power of 
 
 Presence, 211. 
 Weed, William R., mention, 
 
 134. 
 Weed, William W., mention, 
 
 52. 
 
 Wherein Lies Greatness? 1. 
 Whippings of Boys, 318. 
 Whittier's " Barefoot Boy," 
 
 343. 
 
 Will War Ever Cease? 105. 
 Woodchucks in Wall, 358. 
 Wrestling, 360. 
 "Wright, George S., sketch of, 
 
 286; picture of.
 
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