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was the bond that made us, as it were, one great family. If any were sick they were visited; any in
want they were assisted; we laughed with those that laughed, and wept with those that wept. Reasonably honest and friendly,
the latch string was always out and the helping hand was ever extended to all. Neighbor or stranger, red man or pale-face--we
were not proud, for we were all poor.
There were no "styles." That blight happily did not reach the interior for many years. If you were
clean and honorable you were a gentleman, though clad in jumper and overalls, and the wife or daughter in their calico or
gingham frocks were "dressed" and generally as happy as the "lady" of today. The axe and the indispensable rifle were the
only insignia of chivalry and thrift, by the aid of which a man labored to hew out for himself and family a home all their
own, happy in the anticipation of a future independence for himself and his posterity, overcoming all hardships and adversities
with unselfish, patient endeavor.
GETTING LOST IN THE WOODS
Amusing Pioneer Experience In Which a Cow Is Pressed Into Rescue Service
The question has been asked me, "Did you ever get lost here in the woods?" Yes, oh yes, but never for
any length of time. I always found my way out again. My method was very simple. Many of the settlers owned a cow or two and
cows, as well as all other stock, ran at large, and almost any cow of responsibility wore a bell. I would listen for the "tonk"
of a bell and go to it. With a gad in one hand I would grasp the bossy's tail firmly in the other and ply the gad. The cow
would invariably run for home, guiding me perforce to a clearing.
Once Led Astray
However, I was once led astray by trying to a strange cow. It was a long run and brought me to a clearing
three or four miles away from home. Why on earth my bovine guide did this thing I have never been able to settle in my mind.
This was a small clearing with a cabin in the distance. I clambered over the brush fence and made for the cabin. The family--Daniel
Barnes, his wife and two children--received me very hospitably and Mrs. Barnes set me up a "snack" which was very acceptible,
indeed. I asked Mr. Barnes if that was his cow that I saw over there.
"No," said he, "I have no cow; we don't monkey with any such truck; too much bother. This dog here is the only tame animal I care to keep around. He's a mighty good dog, too, I
wouldn't take a farm for him."
I told them I had been lost, but I did not tell them just how I had been led to their home. The old
gentleman then told me how to avoid being lost.