F 597 
 .M48 
 Copy 1 
 
 r^ 
 
 rue Garden «• €den 
 
 y\/o/]f J/]e S/re(7/rj 
 
 -By H. J. METCALF. 
 
 Trice - - '35 Cenf 
 
THE true: garden or e:den 
 
prbface:. 
 
 THE fume of the Mississippi, niio-hty -'Father of Waters," is every year 
 more widespread, and each season hundreds of tourists, gathered from 
 all winds, are ad<led to the multitude who make it the shrine of their sum- 
 n)er pilgrimage. There is no more intei'e sting spot on the face of the 
 globe than this delightful and romantic region, and it should be included 
 in the itinerary of every summer traveler. As a summer resort Lansing 
 is rajiidly assuming that distinction to whicli superior advantages make 
 it so justly entitled. The atmosphere is cool and refreshing, the surround- 
 ings picturesque, the facilities for bathing and boating unexcelled, while 
 lo the enthusiastic lisherman the al)undance of trout, pickerel and black 
 l)a.ss afford unrivaled opportunity for a complete enjoyment of the sport. 
 These constitute but a tew of the many charms and advantages witii which 
 nature has endowed it. The lover of social gaity tinds new fields for en- 
 joyment and perhaps for triumph, while he who takes delight in the quiet 
 scenes in ti(;ld and woods, finds ample scope for his'in the abundance of 
 wild and natural beauty with which the larger territorj' to the north 
 abounds. In some parts the banks are heavily wooded, in others green 
 meadows meet the water's edge, and here and thei'e a stern, rugged clitY 
 lends pleasing variety to the scene. Then the student of history tinds 
 much of interest in the ancient towns along its border. Here he beholds 
 such landmarks as are .seen elsewhere only by distant and tiresome jour- 
 nej's to foi'eign lanils. No one cau attempt to describe the ever changing 
 panorama as seen from the deck of the steamer, .sailing down the noble 
 river. The low. Mat land along the bank, with farm hou.ses nestling 
 among the ti'ees, is a scene of quiet rural beauty, which su<ldenly changes 
 to a veritable fairyland of brilliant coloring and ever changing foi-m. By 
 a sudilen rounding of a jutting headlaml one is brought face to face with 
 a fragment of the Rhine bank or a liright piece of oriental scenery, with 
 Its myriad forms and rich coloring. The praises of this veritable par.adise 
 or. v.'hicli nature has so Ixiuntifully bestowed her gifts have been .sounded 
 throughout the land, and it is not sti'ange that its advantages and beauties 
 are becoming more and more fully recognized and appreciated as the 
 years pass swiftly by. 
 
 When your time comes to let loose of business for a few d.ays; when 
 summer calls, and y<m feel that it is time to be up and off to the cool 
 Avoods and the ([uiet of pastoral surroundings, you will be in too much of 
 a hurry to choose your place of outing wisely. Perhaps you are thinking 
 now liiat y(nn' outing this siunnicr will he biicf; ])ossibly not at all. But 
 
wait! AVlien the hot bveath of tlie July day curls the straw of your hat; 
 when the asphalt streets and country sidewalks are like the original lakes 
 of pitch from which the black stuff comes, then you will swear with Mus- 
 
 tapha that "no place is hotter than , " and you will flee to escape it. 
 
 You will want to go some place, not too remote from home, yet which of- 
 fers rest and coolness. Somewhere within sound of the teleplione bell 
 and telegraph click. There is no need to long for the seashore. It's too 
 far away, and there's nothing that the sea has to offer that the great in- 
 land seas by which we are surrounded lack. No place on earth has de- 
 veloped more or prettier spots for summer rest than our own state of 
 Iowa. Every blessing of nature, seemingly, has been showered upon us. 
 Here in J^ansing the greatest charm we can boast of is its versatility. To 
 those who are attached to the luxuries of social life it is not necessary to 
 sa,y that it offers all such advantages that any of the so called fashionable 
 watering places of the sea coast can lay claim to. But there are those who 
 like to wander away into a more quiet and secluded surrounding; those 
 to whom the pursuit of excitement is secondary to the desire for peace 
 and rest. And these, also, may be satisfied, for Lansing has many such 
 quiet spots. 
 
 In writing this book I little realized the task I had undertaken and the 
 enormous amount of labor and time consumed in collecting the material 
 for my sketch. The contents are not entirely original with the author, 
 but are of such a nature as to add greatly to the entertaining features 
 bound within these covers. For the past fsjur years, during odd moments, 
 the author has labored industriously toward a completion of those hopes 
 which at last have become a reality. Perhaps there is no more ideal spot 
 in the world more thoroughly adapted to the writing of such a story as 
 Lansing. The grand old bluffs, which for centuries, perhaps, have kept 
 guard over the peaceful little valley, themighty Mississippi, world famed 
 and marvelous in its grandeur and last, but not least, the town itself, all 
 form a vision too beautiful for words to tlescribe. I feel my inferiority as 
 a littei'ateur in trying to portray the sights and scenes to be found within 
 the borders of this fairyland, and trust those who peruse these pages wi]] 
 make full allowance for the "tish stories" and other tales of a somewhat 
 doubtful nature which tliey may read. 1 o write a book of this kind 
 without adding a tritle of the "extraordinary" would be like fishing with- 
 out bait, and as a cure for the "blues" and that "tired feeling, " such 
 reading isindispensible. Being an ardent lover of all things picturesque 
 and beautiful I have endeavored, to the l)est of my ability, to set forth in 
 wonl pictures the beauty and grandeur to be found in the high crown- 
 ing bluffs and verdure clad valleys of "The True Garden of Eden," 
 the Upper Mississippi Valley. To those of my readers who love nature 
 and are converts of that old catcher of whales. Isaac Walton, I es- 
 
l)0('i;illy rocomniend this yolnine. If you have never walked through 
 tlio woods aud tiehls on a bright summer's morning and listened to the 
 multitude of sounds wjiicli proi-laim the advent of summer, then you 
 have never lived. 
 
 My principal ol)jeet in writing this book is to make others see nature 
 as she should be seen. Its theme is the ripple of the brook; the mur- 
 mur of the tre3S; the swish of the wave and the splash of the oar. It 
 is the sileiiee of the shady road; the quietude of the deserted camp; 
 the whirl of the rapids and the grandeur of God's monuments, the 
 hills. 
 
l^DEX. 
 
 I. ADVENT OF SUMMER. 
 
 II. "FISH" STORIES. 
 
 III. EXPENSIVE ENJOYMENT. 
 
 IV. SOME LIARS I HAVE MET. 
 
 V. WILD CAT HUNTING. 
 
 VI. WINTER SPORTS. 
 
 VII. A WELCOME TO BIRDS. 
 
 VIII. PARTRIDGE HUNTING. 
 
ADVENT or SUMMER 
 
Summer ilreanis are in the soiiiut — 
 Dreams in ilie warm and yellow ground. 
 Dreams in tbe ripening leaves o1' trees 
 And in tile drone ot lazy ht-es.— A' V. T/miiii). 
 
 CHAPTKi; 1. 
 
 THK ADVENT OK SlIMMKlt. 
 
 Sl'MMKIl days have come, ihose sc^ft. seiisiKJUS. dreamy days of red 
 and ,i;*>ld, with veils of silyer mist at, sunrise and skeins of purple 
 eloiids at t\vili<>]it. The air is hazy with the smoke of fires burniuof on 
 the hillsides 1 he stems of the yoiuig birches show white in the fastdeep- 
 ening shadows; oreen leaves strew the ground, and tall flowers flame in 
 the gardeii beds. Tlie rising sun burns its way through a low lying mist 
 that hides the river, and Haslies its search light rays over the sleeping city. 
 Tlie glimmering tops of the tall chimneys catch the signal and answer in 
 belching clouds of gray smoke, that turn to gold as they float upwanl in 
 the nun-ning air. Tlie long row of many eyed houses, cresting the river 
 front, l)lush in the dazzling light and throw countless smoke flags from 
 numerous chimneys. Suddenly the molten l)ali swings clear of the purple 
 haze and floods the city with a ti-emulous light. The vanes of the church 
 steeples flash and blaze. The slanting roofs, wet with the night dew, 
 glLsten like burnished silver. The budding trees fill the air with their 
 sweet incense, flaming pink and yellow, their tender branches quivering 
 in the rosy light. As summer approaches, the rays of the Northern sun 
 lilters with mellowed softness througii the ((uiet air. The yellow stubble 
 promises possibilities in the way of prairie chicken and quail. Tlie gentle 
 whispering wind ruffles the cool waters, and dry, reed}' cinders sing to- 
 gether a whispereil monotone. As the days grow in length clangorous 
 hosts of wild fowl yisit every river and lake. Then it is that the keen 
 e3'es of thousands of sportsmen brighten in anticipation and the much 
 loved operation of "looking over the shells'" begins. 
 
 Signs of spring and summer are always welcome. Tlie willows are vel- 
 lowing along the old creek lianks and the early birds are gathering al)out 
 the summer "bargain counters." So much faith hath man in the truth- 
 fulness of at least one lady. Dame Nature, that before she has even prom- 
 ised another season he is ready for it. When the snow drifts are highest 
 his thoughts lightly turn to summer ihick suits, and although his winter 
 coat is just paid for he is ready to nxamine the latest thing in that most 
 novel of all novelties, the manly shirt waist. Though he may be destined 
 for some time to come to shiver over the unreliable register or the pale 
 gas log he has already entered into negotiations for the renting of the 
 smnmer cottage that lias neither register nor gas to rccommeiid it This 
 
THE TRUK GAIJDEN Ol l.DKX. 2 
 
 desire to Ij*:" the tir.sl to "rasp that thinning bit of hair, "'Father Time's 
 forelock," is a growing one that women feel with keenest eagerness. 
 Tliat look of peace that a woman wears wlien she emerges from her Len- 
 ten solituile may be mostly due to the fact that she has been laying np for 
 lierself treasures in Heaven, but some of its charm arises fi-om the fact 
 that she has safely laid away upon earth six new shirt waists in which to 
 face a wicked world. An early appearance in one of these garments be- 
 fore the snow has melted or the sealskin gone to its summer home, is only 
 another mianifestation of womans' forehandedness. Procrastiuators are 
 still to be found and they are the people whose Christmas gifts are ready 
 only in time to hang upon the lilac bushes and whose sweet pea seeds are 
 put in so late that the frost catches tlie blossoms. But this melanciioiy 
 band is steadily growing smaller. 
 
 Winter's fleecy cloak no longer ccjvers the city pavements or country 
 fields: earth's imprisoned life has broken the iron bonds of frost, and the 
 ice sheath on the Howing Mississippi, cracked, shivered and crumbled into 
 thousands of fragments, has been swept away southward toward the briny 
 deep of the far distant Gulf of Mexico. Now the fields are green with 
 sweet gras.ses: liowers perfume tlie air with their exquisite fragrance and 
 all nature seems to be in harmony. The early autumn rains cause a .shiver 
 to i-un up and down your spinal column: the shivering farmer's wife 
 speedily closes her window, saying ahnid a superstitious prayer. In lier 
 rural belief, the screech owl, which rushes by her abode, seeking shelter 
 from the falling rain drops, announces the "buryings" in turn, with glee 
 and gloating. The long, long arms of the giant oak and elm, which for 
 years past have .served ui the capacity of a wiutl break, stretch out tlieir 
 mammoth branches and close 'round the roof they love, menacing the 
 wind .should it harm the peaceful fold under the sliatle of their embracing 
 green. The lionest watch tlog, with a deep mouthed howl, seeks shelter 
 in the low vaulted barn, uttering baleful howls which bring a ready re- 
 sponse from other canines in the neighborhood, and wiiich cau.ses the 
 weired "hoot" of the midnight pi'ophet, the owl, to fade and die out in 
 the unfathomable paths of the nearby wood. A hor.se in the yard comes 
 to the house for a closer proximity to his human friends, and stands close 
 and still, hmely in the soughing wintl which stirs his simple equine 
 Ijrain. A <loor slams sudtlenly and the good woman leaps to her bed and 
 its old fashioned coverings as though ten thousand demons were .seeking 
 her death. The eerie wind lulls not, but rushes up the valley, chasing 
 outstanding animals, which w'ere neglected at nightfall, and scattering 
 empty milk cans and i)ails in every direction, making night hiileous with 
 a thousand alarms. 
 
 But there are winds and winds. 1 like lo be awakened in the iiighl and 
 hear, now soft, now low. ihe g<>Mtie. warblin<j: winds, telling of wlie;it 
 
Al)\KN'l' OF SlM.\li:i!. ;-5 
 
 ticlds and ripeuiu^ corn, ol' meadows where iIh^ sIhh']) lie huddled d(»wn 
 in tlie f rt'sii, g-reen grass, barely moving the great aerial looms of the farm 
 windmill and bringing dreamy, sensuous visions of fragrant apple, peaeh 
 and amber grapes filled with sunsliine, searlet plums and the honey bee; 
 nature's store house pictured and lilled to overliowing for the grateful iieart. 
 for those whose eyes ave turned on the hills, waves and sky — enthusiasts 
 of the wootls, who trace th.e sunrise path at morn and thank (loil for this 
 wonderful gift to mankind. 
 
 This is indeed a wonderful age. In perusing the reports of tiie geologi- 
 cal survey of Iowa I eould not help but be impressed with the wonderful 
 and int«?resting information I found therein, and 7iiy imagination pictun^d 
 those prehistoric ages when monster animals roamed over the country 
 whereon are now built beautiful cities and towns. We have the glacial 
 ])eriod to thank for our beautiful scenery, no doubt, and wonderful in- 
 deed has been the result of its work. In many other ways can I praise the 
 Uj>per River Country. Take for instance the country tributary to Lans- 
 ing, Here is a beautiful little city, nestling among the green mantled hills 
 of Iowa as though Nature, in one of her ever changing moods, had en- 
 deavored to shut her off from all intercourse with the outer world, but 
 such was not her intention 1 am sure. The beautiful scenic effect here 
 produced only enhances the yiew, and as a means of protection in case of 
 severe storms, these hills are d(mbly useful. To one who has been accus- 
 tomed to view the.se picturesque bluffs all one's life, their al)sence creates 
 a longing and a desire akin to homesickness and is relieved onlv when you 
 can once again reside in the shatlow of their greatness. 
 
 ''Of all that is good Iowa affords the best." This well known saying — 
 well known to Iowa people, and in fact almost the woi-ld oyer — but too 
 truly reiterates the sentiment of the Hawkeye inhabitants. Not only does 
 Iowa afford the best in industry', but her scenic inducements are consider- 
 eil among the grandest in the Union — especially that portion of the state 
 l)ordering on the Mississippi river. 'I hat territory adjacent to the stream 
 is rii'h in tales and legands of the early days and much pleasure is accoi'd- 
 ed that person who.se sense of inquisitiveness leads him to a study of Iowa's 
 earlier history. For miles and miles on either side of the river may be 
 seen some of the grandest, most awe-inspiring sights of which the human 
 mind can conceive. Nowhere, except along the Rhine and in the Yellow- 
 stone region, can such soid-stirring sights be witnessed, (irand beyond 
 description are these towering monuments of Nature's handiwork. Few 
 who sec them ever forget their seductive grantlness. The region thi'ough 
 which this mighty I'iver wends its ^\ ay otTers countless inducements to the 
 imaginative mind and to those viho.sc eyes are harmoniously attuned to 
 Nature. Here in company with these grand old hills one can almc^sl 
 feel tiiat indesci-ii)al)le something whieh tills the air at early spi'ing time 
 
4 THE TRUE (iAKDEX OF EDEN. 
 
 and makes us all loiiu; for iiupossibilities. The leaves wilh their l)riii:ht 
 i'(»loiini>s. the Inrds with their s •. eet i-eveilles, all bring to miml the early 
 joys of boyhood. To roam these picturesque bluffs, unfettered by the 
 grind and won-y of business life, is indeed a boon. l)ut how few there 
 are w lio take advantage of it. 
 
 There is nothing more exhilarating than liill cruubing. If tiiere be any 
 human being in the world who can look do.Au with perfect propriety 
 on the rest of his neighbors in the sphere of creation, or gaze over their 
 heads and shoulders \sith an exasperating foi-getfulness of their })res- 
 ence, it is certainly the elevated citizen who has gained the summit of 
 one of our western hills. It is rather an easy accomplishment, iii these 
 days of steam and electricity to ride to the top of a mountain —Pike's 
 Peak for instance — in the comfortable compartment of an upward mov- 
 ing railway train, but climbing these Iowa l)luffs is a horse of a differ- 
 ent hue. It means skill and exercise and exhilaration. It means vvoi-k. 
 ing one's way upward along a hazardous pathway. It means skirting 
 liie edges of a precipitous rayine. It means jumping fissures and vault- 
 ing mammoth boulders. In fact, it means a combination of grit, pluck, 
 energy and stability which few possess. The very roughness of the ex- 
 perience, the very unusual character of the undertaking but adds to the 
 ilelight of the pastime. In the whole range of summer vacation pro- 
 jects there are none which repay with such a generous measure the exer- 
 tion of getting ready and of getting away from home and the routine of 
 business. Health, strength and vigorous life are a part of the gifts it of- 
 fers in exchange, giving also a dash of absolute contentment and a happy 
 joy in the mere act of living. Excursions to the hills surrounding us 
 would form a delightful part of a summer's outing for people wlio desire 
 a change. Life in the midst of these exalted altitudes is the nearest ap- 
 iiroach to life in another world that the terrestrial iidiabitant may cn'er 
 liope to attain, and it certainly offers the greatest number of facilities for 
 enjoying that ••something new feeling." for which the grealei- numl)er of 
 us pine during tlie summer luonths. 
 
 Lansing and vicinity ofl'ers the beauty of its mountainous scenei'y ;ti)d 
 the exhilarating tonic of its intoxicating air to all w lio ajjpioacli its bor- 
 dtn-sin the happy guise of open air pilgrims. Life out of doors is tiie oidy 
 s()rt of existance to enjoy during the hot summer months. Mt. Hosmer. 
 named for the famcms sculpti'ess. Harriett Hosmer, and one of the high- 
 est points along the Mississip])i river between St. Paul and St. l.,ouis, 
 stands inviting all who chance that way to seek the iiealthful spirit tiiat 
 roams freely over its summit. Tlie voices in the hills call soothingly to 
 the tired Ijody and the sublime beauty of their presence bids the weary 
 city dweller to leave the cares of city life and barken to the message the 
 siuiinicr winds Imparl. Of course, our lilllf hills fall shorl of Ilie nioi-e 
 
ADVENT OK SUMMER. 5 
 
 iinposiiig grandeur of Mt. Hood in Oivt^on anil Mt. Adams in Wasliint;- 
 lon, l)ut nevertheless one can imagine mueli and dream of these grand old 
 liills as S(miething too beautiful for comparison. The former rewards the 
 exertions of the sightseer with the lovliness of its surroundings and the 
 wealth of its game: the latter is only another lovely elevated spot in tiie 
 wealth of the picturesque seenery in which the great Northwest abounds, 
 towering into the blue vault of Heaven covered with snow, their sunuuits 
 ulistening like ])recious jewels in the dancing rays of an early Summer 
 uorniug. 
 
 The mountainous sceneiy of the Mississippi Valley is a continuous suc- 
 cession of beauties and delightful sui-prises, but the joy of an outing in 
 liiis "Garden of Eden" is best appreciated in other ways than in employ- 
 ing the customary methods of seeing its grandeur. Camping on the Mia- 
 sissi])])i is exhilarating sport tit for the gods accustomed to the freedom 
 Mild joy of the lieights of Olympus. Tlien the true lieauty of the govern- 
 i!U'nt's))l(^asure grounds is revealed to those who seek to know its worth. 
 To the camper the river sings its most strenuous anthem. '1 o the camper 
 also the hill shows the tender side of its nature, which cares for even the 
 least of the wild flowers. To the camper the sun shows its brightest colors 
 as a kindly gesture of good cheer. 
 
 Every where throughout the rugged scenery of the New England range 
 in the east and the more conventional beauty of our green mantled hills 
 in the West the beauties of out-of-door life are emphasized by the twin 
 spirits of freedom and exhilaration. The joy expressed in the enthusiastic 
 woi'ds of the psalmist is felt in the very air of this hilly region, felt even 
 by the inhabitants accustomed to their splendor and felt all the more poig- 
 nantly by the weary tourist who has traveled to his restfulness and deliglit 
 away from the flatness and bustle of city life. 
 
 The idea that the cAty answers vei-y well for business, but that tlie coun- 
 try is the place for real delight in existence has been getting every j'ear a 
 lirmer hold upon the fancy of the merchant, the manufacturer, the broker. 
 I'o own a farm has become the aspiration of the same class who used to 
 (lissi})ate their surplus time and money upon the race track or the conven- 
 tional tour of Europe. Busy men are learning tiiat the key to recreation 
 lies in a complete change of environment, not a mere transfer of attention. 
 They wish to get away from contact with the "grind" which is wearing 
 their nerves to shreds, and to bathe their souls in limpid peace, pure air 
 and an expansive outlook. Our larger cities have always possessed their 
 special corps of residents who fly away to the mountains when hot weather 
 .settles (Ujwn upon the town to stay for a nice long visit — residents who 
 are willing to forsake even the changing beauty of the lovely tinted lake 
 — upon the shores of which their city may rest— for the serenity of the 
 verdure clad hills. Seashore or pleasure resort almost always fail to as- 
 
6 THE TRUE GARDEN OF EDEN. 
 
 sert sufficient charm or attraction to weigh in the balance with the qniet, 
 the rest, the peace, the exhilaration and the inspiring incentive of the hills. 
 We all, or at least a majority of lis, know its pleasures, all its surprises, 
 all its perils, and we lind that each recurring outing but adds to the enjoy- 
 ment of the pastime. Signs of the times now indicate that in the future 
 the exodus to the hills and mountains of the west will be larger than 
 ever before, for the spirit of the woodland beckons gaily to the tix*ed resi- 
 dent of the city, and who can resist her alluring gesture? Her garments 
 spread around her like the wind buffeted drapery of Victory; her beckon- 
 ing hands are filled with the fruits of her raising and her face rellects the 
 peace of her clime. 
 
 It is never a difficult matter to get up a conversation on lishing in this 
 locality. Wherever two or more inhabitants are gatliered together tliere 
 is sui'e to be found one who knows a deal about the gentle art. As the 
 long, cold winter draws to a close, and spring sends its gentle harbinger 
 throughout the land, individual fishermen may be seen sneaking away for 
 a brief recreation. As there are any amount of game lish within easy dis- 
 tance of Lansing, it is natural that these short trips ai'e mostly made to 
 places where rod and line can be usetl to advantage. Disciples of Izaak 
 Walton could do no woi'se than visit these places occasionally for a change, 
 for the real fisherman — the man who loves a tight with his lish before land- 
 ing it — can find something worthy of liis skill in any one of a dozen places 
 in the region named. One half hour's "pull" from the skiff landing in a 
 good rowboat brings one to the home of the vicious, courageous, small 
 mouth black bass. Where the blue waters of the famous Mississippi forces 
 its way triumhpant and swift around the bases of the mighty hills and 
 mingle with the less turbulent and muddy "Oneota", is the beginning of 
 twice a hundred miles of noble tishing. There are deep pools and shal- 
 lows, smiling stretches of still, blue water and tumbling acres of eddy and 
 whirlpool, beset with boulders, between Lansing and the Gulf and all teem 
 with bass. The liass of the Mississippi are as crafty, as lively and as gamy 
 fish as anything ever found in the world's waters — not excepting the wary 
 and timid trout. A pound and a half bass in these waters at the end of a 
 hundred yards of silk line on a whisp of bamboo rod will make you think 
 of the time when you held "yearlings" down on the old farm. Or one 
 can board the train, and after a few hours journey, alight at some little 
 station, contiguous to magniticaut trout streams, seldom whipped by any- 
 one except the casual farmer's boy of the neighborhood. 
 
 The country 'round about Lansing seems particularly well adapted for 
 country life and sports. Beautiful spots seem ever at hand and with the 
 river, the bluffs, and a quiet, dreamy existence, there are few places where 
 recreation could be more ideal, and especiallj' is this ti-ue when the lisliing 
 
ADVENT OF .SUMMER. 7 
 
 season is oj)eii — "wide open" — as an enthusiast would put it. Some con- 
 tend that the trout in this section are not what they used to be; possibly 
 they speak the truth, but a grumbler is a grumbler the world over, trout 
 or no trout. The trout streams in Iowa, Minnesota and Wisconsin ai*efar 
 from being "short" on fish. However, fishing never was a sport that was 
 much alYeeted by statistics, anyway. There is no such thing as convinc- 
 ing the man or the boy, wlio has prejjai'ed for a day's trip down some lit- 
 tle brook that the stream contains only three fish throughout its entire 
 course. If it contains one it promises a iiuudred. Very few know how 
 fast tish, especially trout, multiply, and the number may stretch out to 
 the crack of doom ! At least it will take a day's hard work, with the ther- 
 mometer registering 100° in the shade, to lessen in the slightest degree, 
 the zeal of the true fisherman. 
 
 The day's work should begin early, indeed it may begin the day before. 
 The reels, the rods, the hooks, the lines and the bait, all have to be looked 
 after. Tackle has a queer way of hiding when wanted, and in any case the 
 lisherman will have made sure of his equipment. For there is always be- 
 fore his eyes the large number of handsome trout which he may capture. 
 It is no definite number, to be sure, but still there is the possibility. Just 
 before dawn, as he is preparing to start and sees the first deep purple of 
 the morning peepmg over the Wisconsin bluffs, he likes to dwell for a few 
 moments on possibilities — not statistics I Then again, as he comes in sight 
 of the brook, after a vigorous tramp over country roads and through dew 
 laden pastures, he stops an instant to take in the distant musical murmur 
 of the llowing waters and his mind pictures the big string of "speckled 
 fellows" that lie in waiting for his bait. It is one of the glorious moments 
 of life — it contains such possibilities. There is no lonliness in the day for 
 him, even if he be without a human companion. The stream is compan- 
 ion enough. It chatters constantly in no monotonous fashion, alluring its 
 ardent follower through wooils, through meadows and through i-(jcky 
 pastures as long as daylight lasts. And when the sun is sinking behlno 
 the azure tinted hills he finds hiaiself hardly ready to turn homeward or 
 to camp. 1 hough his basket is by no means full of fish, he still hears the 
 sound of possibilities ahead of him. He goes to bed .sure of one night's 
 perfect sleep. He has been living the day in a world of ideals, forgetful 
 of the strains and the worries of this life, forgetful of himself. And when 
 a man forgets himself to the extent of throwing into a day's fishing his 
 energy and his interest, he is very apt to return to this workaday world 
 with better resolutions and happier thoughts. Some one has very truth- 
 fully stated that a smart man is never a success as a lisherman and I be- 
 lieve implicitly in the saying, howevei-. for the author lias put it to a very 
 severe test. 
 
8 THE TRUE GAKDEN OF EDEN. 
 
 In the upper counlry and in northeastern Wisconsin are also a number 
 of very tine streams where lishing and boating are much indulged in by 
 tourists on their summer vacations. In the northeast section of the state 
 of Wisconsin there are rivers, it is said, where as tine trout are catight as i| 
 in any of the Oregon or Colorado streams. Parts of these rivers, I learn, 
 are extremely beautiful and the sportsman, while Heating along the wind- 
 ing courses, can lind plenty of entertainment in the scenery, when he gets 
 his boat loaded with fi.sh and has no room to carry more. 
 
FISH '' STORIEIS. 
 
" I only wish and wish and wish 
 That I could fish and tlsh and fish: 
 I"d like to sit the live long day 
 Upon a bale of prairie hay, 
 Down where the river sadly wails. 
 And fish for suckers and for whales. 
 'Tis shameful that on this free soil 
 A man must toil and toil and toil, 
 And fi^runt and swear and strive and groan, 
 And burst his martingale and moan; 
 jrow old and bald before his time. 
 In following the festive dime. 
 Ah, life would be a pleasant dream. 
 If I could sit beside the stream 
 J, With rod in hand, at early dawn. 
 
 No comrade but a demijohn: 
 The latter filled with lemonade(:-) 
 To sit there in the drowsy shade: 
 What higher bliss could mortal wish '■ 
 All. let us go and fish and fish. " 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "FISH"' STORIES. 
 
 ^^THTni ^'^■'^^^ ^ suppose you didn't leave anything in Big Lake," said a 
 ^^^ local sport when the fisherman came into the Boat Store and 
 dropped into his old seat. The uimi'od was tanned and blis- 
 tered. He looked tired out and he bore the other earmarks of the man 
 who has experienced '-hunters' luck." The grocer grinned at the sport's 
 salutation and tui*ned to listen to the fisherman's reply. 
 
 "Well, I left a few things in it, yes," said the old nimi'od thoughtfully. 
 "I left a good spoon liook some place in it and I left a quai't bottle of old 
 'tanglefoot" there that fell overboard from the boat, and 'pears to me 1 
 left a couple of fish. It isn't quite cleaned out yet." 
 
 "Where did you go".'" inquired a bystander. 
 
 "Big Lake," replied the hshernian, "and it's the greatest place for lish- 
 in' that ever happened. Every day ought to be Friday 'round here. Say, 
 lliere's nothin' else but lish.'' 
 
10 THE TRUE GARDEN OF EDEN. 
 
 "I havu't seen any of them yet," chipped in a newcomer, winking at no 
 one in particular, but talking in the whole crowd, "but then I suppose the 
 trout lines and trammel nets had all been robbed before you got there." 
 "Oh. oome off; don't go to accusin' honest folks of what you'd do your- 
 self if you got the chance. Don't you know that a man ain't allowed to 
 seine tish in either Iowa or Wisconsin?" asked the fisherman in an injur- 
 ed tone. Why, I would have you all supplied for the next year if them 
 ornary game wardens would let me alone. You can take just a certain 
 amount of fish with you, shipped as baggage and accompanied by the 
 owner. What do you think of that?" 
 
 "That's a handy law," said the grocer, for the fisherman. "It lets them 
 out so easy when they get home. How did you come to lose that bottle of 
 whisky? I wouldn't have been surprised if you had lost the fish or the 
 boat, but I should think a man who has lived in Lansing as long as you 
 have would hang on to a bottle of whisky in front of all the game wardens 
 in the state." 
 
 "It wasn't the game wai'dens. " said the fisherman, "although at that I 
 might have got away from the lake with more fish if I had been better sup- 
 plied with whisky. No, we lost that through our own foolishness. We 
 were out 'still' fishing for bass one day. Natty was in the stern of the 
 boat and I was rowing. We had about four lines, you know, and only 
 two rods. Of course we had to fasten two of the lines to something in the 
 boat and let 'em slide. I fastened mine to one of the rowlocks, but Natty 
 was so far back in the boat he couldn't handle a set liuefi-om the rowlock, 
 and what do you think he did? Tied the line to a quart bottle whisky we 
 had in the bottom of the boat." 
 
 "That's what you had it in the boat for, \^asnt it?" asked the grocer. 
 
 "Well, we took it along to help catch the fish," said the niinrod. but not 
 quite that way. We went along all right for twenty minutes or so and then 
 we both got a strike at the same time. I was wrestling with my fish and 
 Natty was reeling in for all he was worth, when the whisky bottle got a 
 strike also." 
 
 "Not the first one for the whisky bottle. 1 bet," suggested a spectator. 
 
 "I saw it give a jerk, ■" went on the narrator, and tiiat was the first I 
 knew that there was a line fast to it. I yelled at Natty to grab the Ijottle. '' 
 
 "I can't let go of my fish," he says "it'll get away.'' 
 
 "Neither can I, says I. and just then the bass that the whisky bottle had 
 caught gave a running jump and hauled the whole works overboard. I 
 gave a gasp when I saw it going, but I wasn't going to lose my fish to save 
 it. It fioated for a minute and Natty made a grab for it and nearly tip- 
 ped over the boat; just then, however, th(! bass made one more jump to 
 leeward and down went the bottle.'' 
 
 "How (Kul it happen that an empty bottle sank so easily?'' asked the 
 
"FISH" STORIES H 
 
 grocer. 
 
 "It wasn't empty," said the fisherman, "it was full." 
 
 "And how long had you been out?" persisted the grocer. 
 
 The fisherman ignored this remark and looked reminiscent for a few 
 seconds. 
 
 "That wasn't as bad. though, as the way I lost the spoonhook," he .said 
 at lengtli. 
 
 "Go on, tell us about that," said the the grocery man, "wecan stand for 
 anything now." 
 
 "We were out early one morning trolling for any old thing that hap- 
 pened our way," said the fisherman, "and I had a swell spoon hook strung 
 out behind'the boat. Natty was rowing and he also carried the pistol." 
 
 "Pistol?" said the grocer, "what did you want of a pistol?" 
 
 "To shoot the fish, of course, " said the fisherman. "You don't suppose 
 anyone tries to haul Mississippi river game fish into a boat alive, do you? 
 They'd kick you clear out of the skiff. No, sir; you have to shoot 'em. 
 Well, we had rowed a half hour or so, when all of a sudden 1 got a strike 
 on my spoon and tlie line went out whirling. I got hold of my I'eel and 
 for a straight ten minutes I worked with that fish. Ididu t know whether 
 it was a bass or a shovel sturgeon, but I knew it was a whale. At last I 
 got it up close enough so that we could see it, and we saw that it was a 
 bass — about an eight pounder." 
 
 "Eight?" said a traveling man, in surprise, as he joined the group. "I 
 didn t know they grew that small hereabouts."' 
 
 The old timer slowly straightened himself, took a fresh chew of "Spear- 
 head" and resumed his story, totally ignoring the slur wJiicli had just been 
 tossed at him. 
 
 "Natty was ready with the pistol," he resumed, "and when 1 got the big 
 fellow right up side of the boat he put the gun to its head and blazed awaj', 
 and I'm blamed if he didn't blovv that fish, spoon hook and all, right off 
 the line. Yes, sir; the impact of the bullet was so heavy that the line part- 
 ed in my hand and ^he whole cheese sank to the bottom of the old river. 
 What do you'ns think of that?' 
 
 No one had the courage to tell him and the crowd made a united rush 
 for the 'poor" bo.v. 
 
 It was a iiystander's turn next. He rose to the occasion in a species of 
 Yankee fashion, bj^ indii-ection. He told a story in rebuttal with appi'o- 
 priate preface. Here it is: 
 
 "Well, gentlenjen, I am going to tell j'ou something that happened to 
 me and threu or four of the boys I useil to go camping v\itli every summer 
 u]) at Battle Island. Of course Ave were all .young fellows, and the prohi- 
 bition atmosphere of old Iowa isn't calculated to develop that kind of 
 sportsmen elsewhere, known as •Llior()nghi)r('(is". lint lam independent of 
 
11 
 
 12 THE Tl^UE (IyVRDKN OF EDEN. ' ' 
 
 wliat other peoj>]e may think, and I want to saj' riglit liere that it did not I 
 take any artilicial applications to keep us going. Onr spirits vvere inlier- 1 
 ent and in-bred and not carried wih us in bottles. So you can understand J 
 that this incident I am going to tell 3'ou about is not a phantasy of any 'f 
 ai'titicial exhilaration. We used to camp at the same place ev^ery year, and 
 within eas}' access of Bad Axe. a little town on the Wisconsin side, on a 
 sloping knoll. We had our tents, guns, fishing tackle and boats. We did 
 not use our guns much, as the season was not yet open, butonr lishing 
 tackle was always in season, and we had great sport. 
 
 One evening one of the boys had a strike which caused an exclamation 
 and told of a l)ig hsh at the hook. We all watched him witli great inter- 
 est and excitement as he played out his line which cut the water in large 
 zig-zag circles away from the boat. He stood by manfully and a great 
 ligiit followed. He was over an hour hauling in and playing out Iiis line. 
 Meanwhile we were crazy with excitement, and it is a wonder we did not 
 upset tlie boat on several occasions, as we thought he was upon the point 
 of landing his fish. But each time the big fellow plowed down and away 
 until he was as i-emote from our frying pan as ever. 
 
 At last, however, ve landed him with the help of a .scoop net and barely 
 saved our boat from upsetting in the effort. It was a Ijassand he weighed 
 six pounds I That was enough iov one eyening. But one of the boys liad 
 lost his vest out of the stern of the ski ft' during the scrimmage. We began 
 to drag for the lost garment with heavy sinkers on our lines and soon 
 .succeeded in grappling the goods. We hauled it up. but just as it came to 
 the surface of the Avater we saw the pockets empty themselves of n big- 
 Elgin silver watch and three silver dollars. The hook had caught the gar- 
 ment on the lower side and it came up vice versa. There was no way on 
 earth to hook the lost watch and money, which were forty feet below in 
 the mudd.y bottom of the Mississippi, so we gave it up and pulled ashore. 
 Two weeks later we went back to our homes and forgot all about the 
 loss, while we told al)ont the "ten-pound" l)a.ss we had caught that even- 
 ing, getting our values Ijack in that way many times over. 
 
 Well, the next year we went back again. We camped in the .same old 
 place and fished in the same old river. It was the last day before we 
 were to break camp and return when one of the party hooked another big- 
 game fish in exactly the same bearings. We had a similar experience in 
 landing him. After we had gotten the fish int(j the boat and started for 
 the bank one of the boj's noticed what appeared to ))e a swelling on the 
 side of its head. We all examined it and pronounced it something very 
 peculiar to fish anat(miy. We were all of an investigating turn of mind, 
 immediately, and as soon as the boat touched shore, out came our knives 
 and we performed an autop.sy. An incision made from the gills forward. 
 tf)ward the jaws, revealed a siiining silver surface. I i)nt my linger in be- 
 
•Frsil" STOHIES. 18 
 
 hind the ol)j('Ct: and, lo. and boholdl if it wasn't the old El^-in watcli. We 
 were diuiifoundod and one surprise followed anotlier when we opened the 
 case and found that it was still ticking regularly and liati only lost lifteen 
 minutes. In our wonderment we searched further for the cause and dis- 
 covered that the timepiece hail lodged in the gills of the ])ass and that in 
 the process of tlu; lislTs l)reathing those respiratory organs liad playeii 
 upon the stem winding apparatus and had kept it wound up." 
 
 The crowd, Avho liad l)een listening to this narrative with mouth agai)e 
 and eyes and ears open to their utmost capacity, were startled outof tlieir 
 wrapt attention by the fisherman, who exclaimed, wrathfully, 
 
 "Of all the blamed liars I ever hearn tell of, you do beat the Dutch." 
 
 He was allowed to go thus far wlien a warning look from those present 
 told him he had better desist, ami he sank back in his chair grumbling 
 and muttering al)Out -some folks being such d — n liars.' 
 
 ••Some of you people act as though you don't believe it," went on tlie 
 narrator, but it is a fact anil there is more than that to it. An hour later 
 wlien we dressed that tish we found the three silver dollars and eighteen 
 cents besides, the interest at six per cent for one year." 
 
 After the laugh, which followed this last statement, had in a measure 
 subsided, the grocer exclaimed in tones, still choked with mirth, 
 
 ••Curfew's ringin', gents; time to lock up." 
 
 The sang took the hint. 
 
xpeinsive: einjovmeznt. 
 
Sonic Xiars If Ibavc Hfsct. 
 
 " Some men ai'e visionary to a wonderful degree. 
 Their consciences are noted for their elasticity. 
 They shet their eyes to solid facts an' manufacture lies. 
 When truth will not increase their fame in other people's eyes. 
 They'll sit in corner groceries or stand upon the street 
 An' ladle out recitals Ananias couUln't beat — 
 They'll mould a fabrication like it was but common clay, 
 An' seem to think it not a sin to lie that way. 
 A man may be a Christian an' a pillar o' the church, 
 Who wouldn't, by a wicked act, his character besmirch: 
 He'll go upon a huntin' trip an' tramp 'till he is lame. 
 An' never git a cussed shot at an3' sort o' game: 
 Yet when he reaches home again an' gits into a crowd. 
 His bearing is most pompous an' his head he carries proud 
 While tellin' o' the beasts and \nvds his skillful haml did slaj', 
 An' seems to think it ain t a sin to lie that vvay. 
 A follower of Walton goes a tishin' now an" then. 
 Some bait he takes fur fishes, some to soothe the inner man — 
 He'll whip the stream industrious from moruin' until night. 
 An', barrin' the mo.squitoes, never git a cussed bite: 
 But from a handy market lie will get a tempting string. 
 An' march along the pavement witli a .sort o" lordly swing. 
 An' show each one who hails him what la<-k lu' had that day, 
 An' seems to think it ain't :i sin to lie that wa.y. 
 Tis so in every walk of life, exceptions there are none. 
 All men will crowd the limit when they talk o' what they've done 
 When facts are weak an" shaky they have fictiou cut to tit. 
 An' not a twinge o" conscience troubles them a little bit. 
 In business they are honest: they would scorn to tell a lie. 
 In every day transactions hold the truth almighty high. 
 But in their out<loor sports and pastimes let imagination play. 
 An' seem to think it not a sin to lie that way. " 
 
The engler baits his fishing h< ok 
 With worms that he has dug, 
 And while he waits for biles out- he;ir^ 
 The gurgle of the jug. 
 
 < ♦TIVfTj HAT 1 uood, 1113' dear.'" said Hawkins to liis wife 
 \»\r% two of perfect rest and quiet in tlie (ioiintry." 
 
 CHAPTER in. 
 
 EXTENSIVE ENJOYMENT. 
 
 is a day or 
 perfect rest and qui 
 
 ••Ves, dear, I've notice(1 that yon are lookingtliin and worn out. I lliink 
 rest and ((uietare jnsl uliat yon need. I wish tliere was some place wliere 
 yon eonld tind it."' 
 
 •Well, f 11 tell yon. (ieorge Brown was asking me today if I wouldn't 
 like to g"o up to Lansins? on Saturday, vvliere everything and everybody is 
 (piiet and nusophisticated. It's the only place to go for all (jf tliat and 
 the people there are noted for their hospitality. He says that if a man is 
 simply lot)king for a good time and wants a little quietand rest sandwich 
 t^l in between acts, Lansing is the place to go to. I've a mind to go." 
 
 ■•Why, of course, you must go, my dear. If you go up on Saturday 
 morning and stay until Monday I know it will ilo you ,'i uorld of good. J 
 i-an just imagine you sleeping until 10 o'clock Sunday morning and then 
 getting up to breakfast and feasting on freslily picked strawberries and 
 rich country cream. In the afternoon I suppose you'll doze in tlie ham- 
 mock or perhaps take a little stroll through the green woods." 
 
 Hawkins went down town after dinner on Friday nigiil. •■r\'e got to 
 meet Brown." he said, ••and complete arrangements for our trip." 
 
 It was midniglit when he got home. 
 
 '•We are going to take the (5 o'clock train," he lold his wifi^ when he had 
 awakened her, "so that we will get to Ijansing in the fi-eshr.ess of thee;irly 
 morning. I've got some frogs in this basket and some minnows in this 
 l)ail and I suppose I might ;is well ])ack up my fishing tackli'. though we 
 don't expect to do uuich fishing. This, you know, is going to be simply a 
 rest." 
 
Ki I'llK riU'K (JAHDKX OF KDEN. 
 
 Ar 5 o'clock, after less than four hours' sleep, he was up a<j'a'm, an(l<"ill- 
 ini^ for l)reakfast. When he left the house he was carryinsj the frogs, ;i 
 heavj' grip, the minnows, a tin box of fishing tackle, a pair of iiigii rubixT 
 l)ool;s, an old overcoat and three steel and bamboo tishing rods, the latter 
 ])eing Avrapped separatelj' in cloth covers and guarded with as much care 
 as though they had been the family jewels. At the station he met three 
 other men similarly accoutered. The station was already crowded willi 
 men, each of ihem lugging more bundles than tlie average woman is ac- 
 cused of bringing iiome fi'om a bargain countersliopjiingexpedition. Tiic 
 four frieiuls and their traps were crowded into two seats in the smoking 
 caijfend the train pulled out on time. Bronson, the banker, was attired 
 in a 1)1 ue flannel shirt and a soiled white canvas yachting cap Eduards. 
 llic lawyer, had on a swealsM' and a Idack slouch hat. Brown, who has 
 gained some notoriety owing to his fastideousness as regai'ds dress, was 
 togged out in ancient overalls, and Havkins himself was the star of the 
 j)arly with his anticjue ])earl gray trousers and his stained canvas jacket. 
 
 Bi'onson took sometliing from his grip and rai.sed it to his lips. "Here's 
 good lucK,'' lie said and passed it to the next. Then each of the nien un- 
 wrapped liis pole and commenced to wind and unwind silk tishing lines 
 from reels. Incidentally, there was much talk of 'last year, ' 'a ten pound 
 bass,' Mip at Lansing.' "tore tlie hook right out of his mouth.'' 'got him U|i 
 to the top of the water,'' 'got away," and similar perennial subjects. 
 
 After a several hours' run the train drew up at thedepotat Lansing and 
 the party of four got olT. A farmer with a rickety sulijey was the only 
 tiling in sight, outside of the regular 'bus and the .several drays. Hi'own 
 hurried up to him. 
 
 ••Is this Lansing'.'" he said. ••And wheres the rig to take us ii)) to the 
 lake'.'" 
 
 ••T'he horses are all busy plowing," said the farmer, ■ami i couldn't 
 gil iiolhin' but this I'll make two trips of it." 
 
 But the ])arty Wiis ti)o anxious to get to resting to wait. Brown, him- 
 .self, and Hawkins, who had come out to get perfect quiet and r. st, agreed 
 to walk and carry pari of their things over the several miles of du.sity 
 country road, broiling in the hot sunshine. When tliey finally reached the 
 farmhouse, the rustic showed them up to a little room, furnished with a 
 bed, a chair ami a cracked wash liasin. On the bed was a hard and knotty 
 matti'css, tilled witii corn husks — or bricks. 
 
 ••You II have ter sleep two in a bed," he said. You see most of our room 
 i.s tuk up by the hanils." 
 
 Down by the marshy side of the slougii lay acoupleof home iiia.le boats, 
 sliarj) ;tl either end. I'pon ;irising ihe following morning the foni' men 
 
KXI'i:.\Sl\K KNMOVMKN'l'. IT 
 
 truiu the cily hui'ried down to tlu'iii and i)U.slipd out into tin- slough. Ont- 
 limn in each boat stripped himself to his shirt, and, laying liis outer gar- 
 ments on the stern of his boat, started to manage the oars. The sun was 
 hiii'li. and the water reflected both heat and light like a mirror. In the 
 pi'ow of each boat stood the second man. holding a short pole, which he 
 waved frantically from side to side, the boat almost capsizing at each ef- 
 fort. Within an hour Hawkins, who was presiding at the oars in one of 
 the boats, had raised a trio of beautiful blood blisterson each hand. Then 
 he i-hanged places with his partner and proceeded to beat the atmosphere! 
 witli a steel rod. He called it casting for liass. He was working harder 
 than he had ever worked in his life. 
 
 At ten o'clock, by which tini(> Hawkins" nose had acquired a roseate 
 tinge and his arms were aching with the somewhat unusual exercise, a 
 sudden thunder storm came up. The l)oat was several miles fron^the 
 lujuse. and it seemed useless to try to make it before the storm broke. 
 But Bronson bent to the oars, while Hawkins sat dow'u on the bottom of 
 the cranky boat, holding firmly to the gunwales on both sides. Five min- 
 utes l)efore the rain came a gale of wind swept across the lake, throwing 
 up wliitecaps and sending a dozen l)ig waves over the sides of the boat. 
 Soon Hawkins was resting in two inches of water. Then the rain came 
 across the lake like an advancing wall and soaked the four men to their 
 skins. Ivight on the heels of the rain followed the hot sun and the boats 
 turned again to the middle of the lake. At one o'clock they went in for 
 dinnei'. 
 
 ■•Now," said Hawkins, -we'll get some good old country grub." 
 
 What they did get was frie<l pork chops, fried potatoes, fried dough- 
 nuts, ancient and tough ravlishes. and weak, lukewarm tea. They were 
 served by a lady who said •huh" in a pained tone when Hawkins ventured 
 to ask if he might have some cream for his tn.-i. 
 
 "The women folks churned this morning, ' said the farmer, by way of 
 explaining the absence of the cream. 
 
 After the meal Hawkins and his fi-iends went out again to rest( ':) some 
 ni<;re on the lake. By four o'clock they were all in a state of almost com- 
 plete exhaustion. Then somebody suggesteil ••still" Ashing. Hawkins 
 rowed the boat to shore, a distance of a mile, to get a big stone to use 
 as an anchor. When it was thro-.vn out the stone slipped at once from tiie 
 rope and the boat was finally tied to some bullrushes to keep it from drift- 
 ing. Hien Hawkins got what tishermen call a '•tremendous strike.'' His 
 reel buzzed like mad and the tip of his steel rod was pulled under water. 
 Bronson. who prides himself on being an expert fisherman, got so excited 
 giving advice that he dropped the oars and let the boat drift into the 
 weeds. There the fish got tangled and it look half an hour's hard woi^k 
 to <>-ct it into vloav water again. By this time the men in the other boat 
 
^ 
 
 18 tup: true gardp:n of eden. 
 
 had been attracted by the sight of the liattle. They rowed up close, and 
 after getting into a position where they were as much in the way as possi- 
 ble, stai'ted to add their counsel to that of Bronsou. Finally the per. 
 spiving Hawkins, trembling from the exertion, succeeded in getting the 
 monster to the side of the boat and with a last effort lifted it in. As it 
 landed on the bottom board of the skiff Bronson, the expert, gave it l>ut a 
 single glance. 
 
 "By the gods, it's a dog fish,"' he said. 
 
 F'or supper the party had another variety of fried poi'k, with the same 
 accompaniments in the way of potatoes and tea. In addition there Avas 
 cake and three dried, stewed peaches to each man. When they went up 
 stairs to survey the room where they were supposed to spend the night, 
 Bronson made a protest. There was another tishing ground a few miles 
 away, and he suggested that the farmer hitch xip and drive them over 
 where they could get something to eat and a shake down. The rustic was 
 quite willing. The team would cost them $4.50 for the trip. They loaded 
 their baggage and bundles into a springless wagon and started. The drive 
 was over a rough road, full of mudholes and hummocks. It took throe 
 hours. At t^n o'clock they drew up before an enlargetl edition of the for- 
 mer aljodc 
 
 •T don't tliink a little jaunt ol' this kintl is complete without a little game 
 on tlie side," said Bronson, aft<^r the party had got settled in their new and 
 larger quarters. Accordingly they sat down and played po'-^er until one 
 o'clock in the morning. When the game broke u]) Hawkins had "di-op- 
 ped" $50.84. 
 
 They were called at five o'clock. Hawkins a\voke with a splitting head- 
 ache. He was stiff and sore in every muscle, but he hurried to get down 
 stairs so that the day's pilgrimage for sport might not l)e delayed. They 
 were served with half cooked l)acon and colt'ee bj' a sleepy-eyed girl, evi- 
 dently sulkj' and irritable at being awakened from her slumbers. After 
 breakfast they again put out in a couple of boats Fvvery cast was torture 
 to the sore arms of Hawkins, and Bronson groaned at each dip of the oars, 
 although neither man would have confessed it at the stake. Among the 
 trophies which fell to the hook of Hawkins Avas a "bullhead." In taking- 
 it from the hook he scratched his thumb on one of its spines. The thumb 
 immediateh' swelled up to an enoi'nious si/,e and turned a deep i-ich, pur- 
 ple color. 
 
 It v/as nearly midiiigiit of the next day when the (luartette reachetl 
 home. Flawkins' wife mei him at the tloor. 
 
 "Here, my dear," he said, liolding up a string of lish. See wliut I liave 
 brought you,'' 
 
 On the string were a l)ullhead, a rock liass. :i coiqjlc of (•n)i)i)ics. :\ ba.ss, 
 a snakclikc pickerel and a niiidcat. 
 
KXrKXSlVE KN.JOVMKNI-. 
 
 ••Did I oujoy myself?" Well, 1 should say so. And. of cmirsc. ril I; 
 ulud to u;ct up early and clean the fish for breakfast. I tell you llicic i 
 notliiii!.? like a restful day in the eouutry when a man is overworked.'' 
 
 We desire to say in couelusion that Mrs. Hawkins eleaneil the lish. 
 
DEGEINEIRACV OT SPORl" AND 
 \A/IL_D CAT HUNTING. 
 
Perhaps you never heerd uv it, "at silv'ry stream uv mine, 
 
 Which blinks all day in a drowsy way, while lilies bloom and shine; 
 
 It ain't ill all the joggerfrys, it's some too sm d 1 'spose. 
 
 It's way up in old Iowa where corn and taters grows. 
 
 It wiggles from amongst the tills fur up beyend the town. 
 
 Then laughs an' groans o'er roots and stones, an' rushes madly down 
 
 Till by an' by It stretches out to meet the ebb and flow 
 
 Then marches back an' forth all daj* like reg'lar soldiers go. 
 
 Upon the sunny western slope my boyhood homestead stands, 
 
 A tangled mass uv luvliness, the toil of loving hands: 
 
 An" frum the summit uv the hill is spread before my eyes 
 
 Old Lansing's spires an' steeples, a veritable paradise. 
 
 I know jest where the lishes live an' where the lilies grow, 
 
 An' where the birds talk lovin" words, an" where the muskrats go: 
 
 I know where lurks the wary trout, the bass and tisher king. 
 
 An" where to find new water cress, an" where the wild grapes cling. 
 
 An' on the moss grown bank I set an' watch the mirrored skies, 
 
 Each great white boat in cloudlana float before my raptured eyes. 
 
 Bill Shakespere never loved his stream no better'n I love mine 
 
 Which blinks all day in a drowsy way where lilies bloom and shine. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DEGEXEKACY Vh' SPOKT AXD WILD-CAT HL'XTIN'G. 
 
 ^T'HE degeiievacy of sport, iiieaniuf^ thereby^ lumting and fishing, ninst 
 
 Vi^ be admitted. The days of the uimi'od ai-e gone by, and a tlisinal 
 
 but true picture is drawn by a writer of western fame, who shows 
 
 clearly the artificial side of sport as it exists today. He tells how careful- 
 
2-i TlIK 'riHE (;A1!1)1:X of EDEN. 
 
 ly foxes mast \)e brotl and fed for th(^ hunter to kill; liow the r:il)hit war- 
 rens are cared for: and how the deer are kept in preserv^es and are so ex- 
 eeeding'ly tame that it is diJUi-ult to get them to run from the hunter and 
 his pack of ijaying hountls: streams must be stocked with trout and salmon, 
 and the tisherman must pay fancy prices for the privilege to lish tliem. 
 This is almost the only kind of hunting and fishing left in England. The 
 conditions ai*e not quite so bad in America, but they are fast drifting in 
 that directiou. Big game is scarce, even in the far West. Fox hunting in 
 the East is indulged in with tame foxes, Streams must be stocked with 
 tish. In the West there are fish still to be caught without payment, and 
 squin-els can be killed in the woods, while in many sections a few deer, 
 outside of preserv^es, have succeeded in evading the hunter. But it is 
 likely the day will come when hunting and fishing in America can be had 
 only on the English basis. But, perhaps, by that time man will have im- 
 proved so that he will not care to kill animals for the love of killing. That 
 is tiie hope of the many friends of the dumi) animals anil it is not an en- 
 tirely unreasonable expectation. 
 
 Take for example the bird on the hat. Volumes have lieen written on 
 the subject, and it is sometimes asserted that in spite of it all, this decora- 
 tion is more worn than ever. But this may be doubted. At any rate, any 
 woman who chooses, and a gi-eat many do choose to wear a hat unadorn- 
 ed with the defunct body of a bird, can do so nowadays without appear- 
 ing singular or ill dressed. The hope of the Audubon Society and of vari- 
 ous other organizations for the protection of birds, is that tlie time may 
 come when a hat trimmed with plumage will be as curious an oljject as 
 the feather crown of an Indian warrior. One thing is certain, if fashion 
 ever does take a decided turn in that dii'ection, it is unlikely that the old 
 barbarous custom Avill ever return. It is so essentially ugly and unpleas- 
 ant in its suggestiveness that it need only go out of style for a few years 
 to be discarded entirely. But thei'e are peox^le who, if gloves and belts 
 made of tanned human cuticle happened to be the fashion, would wear 
 them without more compunction than an Iroquois would feel in putting 
 on his necklace of human fingers. 
 
 The custom of decorating women's hats with the plumage of birds is 
 probably as old as headgear itself, and may have arisen in part from the 
 notion common to many savage tribes that the qualities of an animal slain 
 belong to the slaj'^er. Moreover, before the invention of velvets, gauze 
 and lace, the feathers of birds were among the most beautiful things avail- 
 able for the adornment of the human head. Tradition is partly resijonsi- 
 ble for the persistence of the custom in these later days. There is nothing- 
 pretty in its later developiiients, however appropriate the wings or bodj' 
 of a bird might seem on the head of a hunter's wife. The modern hat is 
 
DKliKN'EUAC'Y OF SPOKT AND AVILD-CAT HUNTIN(J. 2i 
 
 roust rneted to tit the modem face, aud there is no beauty in the juxtapo- 
 sition of a fair, intelligent, essentially ciyilized countenance and the body 
 (jf a blackbird with its ucek in a suggestive twist. It hints at ugly possi- 
 Itilities underneath the charm and grace of the wearer. As for the face 
 which is not charming, or intelligent, or kind, the bod-ies of two or three 
 immming birds or the head of an owl, speared with a hatpin and surround- 
 ed with bows of riljbon, lend to such a visage an aspect positively sinister. 
 
 It would be unjust, of course, to assume that there is real cruelty under 
 all this passive obedience to the dictates of fashion. But since hats and 
 i)onnets quite as becoming aud pretty can l)e evolved without the bird 
 decoration as can be devised with it, it does seem that women of sense and 
 feeling might be contented without shocking the sensibilities of the Audu- 
 l)on Society and outi'aging the fitness of things by causing a yearly sacri- 
 fice of bird Ufe merely to satisfy a senseless whim. There was much sense 
 in the retort of the little boy who, upon being reproved by his pretty Sun- 
 day school teacher for robbing birds' nests, and asked in patlietic tones 
 where the poor mother was, re])lied, "She 'ain't sufferin' none. Miss, she's 
 on yer hat." There is no excuse of ignorance to be pleaded. The public 
 has been told oyer aud over again that wearing ospreys means the death 
 of multitudes of helpless little birds, since the feathers are best during the 
 breeding season and the parent bird must be shot then. The fact that 
 birds of particularly fine plumage are often skinned alive has also been 
 made known; and the silence of woodland aud meadow, where the mil- 
 liner's agent has been, speaks for itself. It is about time this .senseless 
 and cruel fashion should go the way of the nose rings and the war paint. 
 
 The game laws in Iowa, my native state, and Wisconsin, are very strict. 
 Few wild animals, however, are found in Iowa outside of the wolf and the 
 wild-cat, the latter being very plentiful and a gi'eat fighter if cornered. It 
 makes not tlie slightest difference to him whether he is called a bob cat, a 
 wild-cat or a lynx, lie is the same vicious animal in Iowa as he is In Canada, 
 on the Pacific coast the same as on the Atlantic coast, aud in all the inter- 
 mediate territory — everywhere he is a plain everyday wild-cat and utterly 
 devoid of kindness, except for his kittens. The color of the animal in dif- 
 ferent parts of the country is very dissimilar, but his disposition is alike 
 in all countries. His length varies from three to over four feet, the long- 
 est and the heaviest being found in the extreme South. The southern 
 species average about twice the weight and al)out a foot more in length 
 than the Wisconsin and Iowa variety. There is no animal with a more 
 fierce and relentless disposition than the wild-cat, and there ai*e fewcrea- 
 lurcs of its size that can whip it in battle. Its food consists of birds and 
 mammals, principally smaller mammals, which it obtains maiulj' at night. 
 However, larger animals are attacked, and deer are not rai^ely overcome 
 by this cunning cat. It is a great destroyer of grouse and otlic woodlaiul 
 
2i THE THUE GARDEN OF EDEN. 
 
 birds and makes vast inroads on the rabl)its and game birds annually. 
 
 A common manner of catching wild-cats is by the spring trap, and as 
 these prowling felloivs are not very eantious. they readily fall victims to 
 the wiles of the crafty hunter. It is on record that a trapped lynx, with 
 one foot confined in a trap, whipped a dog of moi-e than twice its weight 
 in one round of twenty seconds duration, after which it climbed a tree, 
 dragging the twenty pound trap after him. There are sportsmen who 
 will put themselves out of the way to corner a wild cat, especially if they 
 have a pack of good dogs, but the sport, carried along these lines, is con- 
 sidered barbarous and only a hunter now and then is found who will let 
 his dogs engage a wild-cat. 
 

 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 
 
 Mr 1 
 
 m'K.\. hy ^^H 
 
WINTEIR SPORTS OUT OF DOORS. 
 
Just a dream of d«^ar old Lansing (lawsey, but some dreams are sweet) : 
 I seen the South wind aincin' over seas of ripplin' wheat; 
 All the air was full of fragrance, an' (o' course) a little dust, 
 But the birds was all a-singin' lite their tiny throats would bust; 
 Far apast the whisperin' willers the gray road wound away, 
 Like a narrow shinin" ribbon dropped by giant hands in play, 
 Till all tangled up in sunshine it just melted in the blue 
 Smllin' sky which bent to grasp it. like a lovin' child might do! 
 
 Just a dream of dear old Lansing— but I seen where, deep and cool, 
 The swirlin' river dimpled into many a purple pool, 
 Where I knowed the tish was lurkin'. peerin' with a wary eve 
 At the eddies where the "lucky bugs" went SKatin', careless, by: 
 I seen the wary 'rainbow' 'neath the sand-bank's shelvin' brink 
 Scatter into misty shadows when the cattle came to drink; 
 An' I heard the creakin' wagons toilin' up the long, long ridge, 
 An' the rhythmic ring of hoof- beats echo from the swayin' bridge: 
 Just a dream of dear old Lansing—I ain't homes-ick, not a liit: 
 
 I'm as happy as a medder-lark, but, oh, I'd like to get 
 
 Back again to dear old Lansing, jest to rest for one brief day: 
 
 Jest to let life's cares, like thistle-down, Hoat dreamily away; 
 
 Jest to lay there in tbe sunshine, while the short, sweet hours pass 
 
 Tin the solemn black-robed crickets droned their vespers from the grass:— 
 
 An' this longin' haunts me, haunts me, like a throb of endless pain— 
 
 "Oh, to be in dear old Lansing, iest to be at home again:" 
 
 ( CHAPTER V. 
 
 WINTER SPORTS OUT OF DOORS. 
 
 ♦fTNSOFAR as they exist out door winter sports are quite as picturesque, 
 II quite as keenly enjoyed, aud perhaps more beneficial proportionate- 
 ly, than those of summer. A torch light snow-shoe party winding 
 its way at evening up the side of Mt. Ida would be an event not less ro- 
 mantic than real mountain climbing by daylight in summer. Any boy 
 
26 THE TRUE GARDEN OF EDEN. 
 
 Avould desert a "scrub" ball game for "glary"' ice, or eveu for a coasting 
 adventure; and the tonic effect of an hour's brisk exercisein the sparkling 
 winter air upon the occupants of our over-heated houses has no parallel 
 in summer's experiences. That we are too much "hived" up in winter; 
 that pei'sons not given to manual tasks have far too little physical exer- 
 tion; that we have many colds because exposed to too little cold, are facts 
 annually demonstrated, as people begin, toward spsing, to call upon their 
 city druggists and doctors to get "braced" up. Though less discussed, 
 our deficit in opportunities for out-door life is scarcely less serious in win- 
 ter than in summer. For example, the children trying to play ball on a 
 populous sidewalk in Julj"^ are not a more pathetic sight than the same 
 children trying in January to exploit with their sleds on a new snow fall 
 on the same walk. 
 
 Gi'eat pains are taken in some of our larger cities to make the ice on all 
 park pools available for skating. It is, perhaps, an undue aggravation of 
 the present snowless condition of our immediate region to talk about sleds 
 and sliding — time-honored and child-delighting sport of New England, 
 far older and far more important in all the country side than skating, al- 
 though the latter pastime is exceedingly pleasurable, and abounds much 
 moi'e in picturesque features and displays of athletic skill. Of skating 
 there has been for many years a very "comfortable" season, and in both 
 city and country it has been improved to the full. Even that, however, 
 is less picturesque in city limits than out here among the hills, where the 
 boys and girls start up the winding rivers and skate to adjacent towns. 
 The solitary and adventurous skater has almost as good an opportunity 
 for romancing as the fishei'man, who loses the biggest lish and brings home 
 the smallest, just to show that his intentions for telling the truth were 
 good, since if the big fellow had not got avi^ay, would he not have brought 
 that instead? 
 
 Skating stories are of many sorts; a really imaginative boy or girl can 
 have many odd experiences in a ten mile expedition, what with "bendy- 
 bow" ice and air holes. For example, I recall the chap who dropped into 
 an air hole, floated down the riyer for half a mile, occasionally bumping 
 his head against the ice, until he reached another air hole, when he came 
 up all right. He certainly got wet, and he could show the air holes, and 
 would, to anyone who would volunteer to go over the route with him. 
 Let not that jDOwerful skater be forgotten, who came to the verge of the 
 dam sooner than he expected, while going at a high rate of speed — "about 
 as fast as an express train" — as he expressed it. He had actually raced a 
 half mile on the river, with the iron horse on the rails as an opponent, and 
 as he could not check his speed, he arose to the occasion, gave one mighty 
 leap, and landed like a bird forty rods below the dam, alighting so ea.sy 
 that he never felt the jar, but just skimmed on as before and arrived at 
 the station live minutes ahead of the train. Nobody saw this, except at 
 the time of hearing the story, then one saw the point just as plain as day, 
 and besides, the dam was there, and the open space, measuring some forty 
 
WINTER SPORTS OUT OF DOORS. 27 
 
 rods in-ross was there. What more coiu'ln.sive evidence could one look 
 for? 
 
 For those of other predictions tliere are very rare charms in a solitary 
 night exploration on skates —we refer to ice skates, of course. The glor- 
 ious brilliancy of the moonlight reHected from the crystal ice; the glitter- 
 ing restlessness of the far olT stars in the steely blue sky; the west wind 
 that cuts aci'oss the tingling cheeks as a bend is turned, and which mur- 
 murs and whistles along the snow covered banks; the shadows of the hills, 
 dark and sharply defined; the quiet pools covered with black ice, as trans- 
 parent in the bright sunshine of day as plate glass, but now like black 
 mai-ble; the falling waters, gurgling beneath thecoveringof crystal, where 
 some descent is made, and sending in advance great bubbles that force 
 their way like living creatures, and then the steeper rapids breaking quite 
 free of trammels for a space around which the skater carefully treads his 
 w^ay on the shallow rim of brittle ice; the surprise of the warmer air cur- 
 rent now and then; the never freezing spring at the foot of some old hum- 
 mock, whose waters make an open hemicycle as they enter the river — all 
 these, and a certain wild transliguration of the earth and the sky, a lonely 
 and mysterious feeling that possesses the skater, as if he and all else were 
 in some vison of enchantment— such are the charms of a solitar.y moon- 
 light following of the river between the wooded hills of the Mississippi 
 Valley. 
 
 Of the social side of skating, the scores of men, women and children who 
 participate in the sport are a sure indication that the pastime as a social 
 event is a grand success. There is little to say, however, on this one sub- 
 ject that is not perfectly familiar in any city where there is water, fi'om 
 New York's Central Park to the Gulf of Mexico. The social side of slid- 
 ing, hoAvever, can not be had in the city. Even the children are totally 
 ignorant concerning the more plea6ural)le features. The few streets they 
 are allowed to make dangerous are quite too social; they are crowded and 
 noisy and full of foul language and the hoodlums that use it. Neverthe- 
 less, this need not be so if the city children were as fierce for it as those of 
 the country are, for there are pasture hills enough lying around the city, 
 and what's a few miles w'alk for good sliding? One of the best slides that 
 memory recalls could be made three miles long, if the road were in good 
 condition, and while few. very few, would Avalk that three miles, and 
 those few- chiefly in order to say they have done it, yet the lower section 
 of that slide, say from one-half to three-quarters of a mile long, was popu- 
 lar, and even populous, on bright nights— a superb slide it was, and yet a 
 party of ten boys and girls, on a big double ripper, with a stout steersman, 
 sweeping down the the steep pitches, flying into the air at every thank-3'e- 
 ma'am— and the landing from that flight tries the steersman's nerve and 
 muscle — and finally shooting across the village square, up the opposite 
 hill and half way over a bridge — that was something to remember. Some 
 times thei'e were disasters, it is true, for if the man with the tiller did lose 
 his nerve, it meant scratched faces at the least, and a sprain or«o, or even 
 
38 THE TRUE GARDEN OF EDEN. 
 
 a broken leg or arm. But the risk was part of the fun — just as in Alp 
 climbing or Ai'Ctic exploration, and the results were, perhaps, as compen- 
 satory. 
 
 Winter is always welcomed by the "kids." She comes with fi-ost in her 
 breath and icy crystals in her hair, but to the children, in particular, her 
 charms are irresistible. There is music in the crunching snow, intoxica- 
 tion in the tingling blood. Sleigh-bells chant a song of sentiment, and 
 glistening stretches of ice are prophetic of human wings. Field and forest 
 beckon the pursuers of wild things and fill the soul of all with awe. The 
 home and the fireside are never so dear, and the magical alchemy of the 
 human heart distills fresh happiness from the boreal blast, from the white 
 mantle of mother earth and from the cold covering of river, lake and pond. 
 Old age may shiver and count the cost of coal, but youth, warm of blood, 
 buoyant of spirit and full of an abiding faith in the future, recks not of 
 stiffened fingers nor of benumijed limbs, but glides gaily over the smooth 
 ways and drinks in joy with every breath. Itmay be simple coasting with 
 keen rivalry between the sleds, -'Red Rover" and "Swallow," and there 
 may be the excitement of "hooking on" to a bob sleigh driven by a crusty 
 misanthrope ever ready to give heed to the mischievous salutation, "Hook 
 on behind, mister?" With maturing years comes the straw ride with its 
 dozen maids and dozen gallants tucked in under blankets galore and off 
 for a ten mile trip by moonlight to a country tavern with steaming oyster 
 stew and browned roast turkey awaiting tiieii arrival What merry jest- 
 ing and sly squeezing of hands, what fun from the tip-over in a snowdrift, 
 what a rollicking zest in singing "good by, my loAer. good by" or "good 
 night, ladies," or any one of the favorites which oive lusty lungs a fair 
 chance to yell their joy to the night woi-Jd! What would youth be with 
 out these sentimental journeys? 
 
 Man dreams eternally of flying, and winter feeds his fancy. With clear 
 ringing steel wings he skims the frozen waters like a bird, and what so 
 satisfactory to the human ego as the annihilation of distance in this flight 
 across crystal plains? In mildei- moods the soul may be content with 
 darting hither and thither over a confined space, and here again the eternal 
 feminine element may lend its enchantment to the sport. Never is a fire 
 so welcome as when blazing on the edge of a skating field, and never was 
 the ambrosia of the gods sweeter than stolen potatoes roasted in such a 
 fire and devoured with skins, ashes and all. There are restless spirits who 
 love to roam far afield with gun in hand and dog to the front, seeking to 
 satisfy the vanity of the human ego by pitting his cunning against the 
 instinct dowered l)y kind nature upon the birds of the woods and the beasts 
 of the fields. 1 here is perfume in the scent of the woods, and the rhyth- 
 mic whirr of the drumming partridge is pleasanter to the senses than the 
 arias of "Faust." The forest is full of companionship. The snow-clad 
 pines are mighty sentinels. The beeches and birches hum a lullaby, and 
 even the wind-swept leaves have a life, which Thoreau has thus interpreted : 
 
WINTER SPORTS OUT OF DOORS. 29 
 
 •'Listen to the sharp, dry rustle of the withered oak leaves. This is the 
 Yoice of the wood. It sounds like the roaring of the sea. and is inspiring 
 like that, suggesting how all the land is seaeoast to the aerial ocean. It is 
 tiie sound of the surf, the rut of an unseen oc-ean — billows of air breaking 
 on the forest, like water on itself or on sand or rocks. It rises and falls- 
 swells and dies away, with agreealile alternation, as the sea surf does. It 
 is remarkable how universal these grand murmurs are, these backgrounds 
 of sound — the surf, the wind in the forest, waterfalls, etc. — which yet to 
 the ear and in their origin are essentially one voice, the earth voice, the 
 breathing or snoring of the creature." 
 
 Again the fleeting glimpse of a white-furred hare, disturbed at its cold 
 dinne'* by the baying of its four-footed enemy, may enti(?e the human 
 pursuer across open fields and onward to far regions in an alluring chase 
 that wipes out all sense of time, fatigue and distance. Trudging his weary 
 way homeward, the hunter may well commune with his own soul and find 
 consolation in the philosophy of that gentle apostle of nature, Thoreau, 
 who has drawn this lesson from the snows and their betraying tracks. 
 Why do the vast snow plains give us pleasure, the twilight of the bent and 
 half-buried woods? Is not all there consonant with virtue, justice, purity, 
 courage, magnanimity; and does not all this amount to the track of a 
 higher life than that of our dumb animals, a life that has not gone by and 
 left a footprint merely, but is there with its beauty, its music, its perfume, 
 its sweetness, to exhilarate and recreate us'.' All that we preceive is the 
 impress of its spirit. If there is a perfect government of the world, ac- 
 cording to the highest laws, do we tind no trace of intelligence there, 
 whether in the snow or in the earth or in ourselves — no other trail but 
 such as a dog can scent? Is there none which an angel can detect and 
 follow — none to guide a man in his pilgrimage, which w^ater will not con- 
 ceal? Is there no odor of sanctity to be preceived? Is its trail too old? 
 Have mortals lost the scent? 
 
 Are there not hunters who seek U>r something higher than foxes, with 
 judgment more discriminating than the senses of fox hounds, who rail}' to 
 a nobler music than that of the hunting horn? As there is contention 
 among the fishermen as to who shall be the lirst to reach the pond as soon 
 as the ice shall bear, in spite of the cold, so it is with the hunter who comes 
 forward to take the held as soon as the first snow has fallen; so he who 
 wonld make the most of his life must be abroad early and late, in spite of 
 cold and wet, in pursuit of nobler game, whose traces are there most dis- 
 tinct — a life which we seek not to destroy, but to make our own, and 
 which, when pui'sued, does not earth itself, does not burrow downward, 
 but upwani, takes not to the trees, but to the heavens as its home, which 
 the hunter pursues with winged thoughts and aspirations and rallies his 
 jmck with the bugle notes of undying faith. Do the Indian and hunter 
 only need snow-shoes, while the saint sits indoors with embroidered slip- 
 j»ers? Then there arc the (piieter joys of the home and in the evenings 
 
30 THE TRUE GARDEN OF EDEN. 
 
 the parties and bees. What simpler pleasures than the poping of corn or 
 the snapping of apple seeds on the red hot stove? What amusement more 
 useful, and at the same time fun i^rovoking, than the spelling school? 
 When is cider so sweet and freshly cracked nuts so acceptable? When is 
 there such a rollicking zest to blind-man's buff, drop the handkerchief, 
 l)utton-button-who"s-got-the-button and a score of other old time favorites? 
 What keener delight to the intellectual soul than a quiet night before the 
 hearth with a good book and a dish of Northern Spy apples? 
 
 "Sliding on the crust" is another good feature of winter life in the 
 coxTutry. Let such a queer mixed storm as generally prevails, with rain 
 and a brisk breeze to finish off, and all the hills will lie gleaming in the 
 sun with a stiff covering of concreted pellets, then what fun there is for 
 the sleds and "sliders!" Then no one course is open, but everbody has a 
 course of their own. Take down the pasture bars, through which the old 
 cow has found her way for so many months past; down with the old Vir- 
 ginia woi"m fence, which marks the boundary line between two fields, or 
 (jpens into the road, and aim for the eight or ten foot opening from any 
 place on the hillside that happens to strike the fancy. It requires a sure 
 eye. a steady foot behind and a sturdy girl in front— one who will not 
 squirm or sci'eam more than enough to keep up the excitement — to make 
 for that particular break in the fence line. But I foi'get. All this hap- 
 pened in the days when the rail fences were the boundaries; the barbed 
 wire has limited that sport. Another way of enjoying crust sliding in the 
 old days was to cross leather sti'aps, cut from the "old man's" number 
 "6's," over barrel staves, a little forward of the middle, and thrusting 
 the feet into these stirrups, ride the staye horses down the uncertain side 
 hill. Talk about your Norwegian skis — ! What a way the staves had of 
 spreading out, until down the rider sat and slid on his beam ends as far 
 as gravitation would carry him. This mode of travel is not yet obsolete, 
 although it belongs to the days when Bayesen's Norse stories— more than 
 any other — had introduced to knowledge the real ski, which I fancy very 
 few Yankees ever manage, any more than they have managed snow shoes. 
 
 Another phase of the country children's winter pleasures is afforded by 
 the hollows in the hills where the rain has, very considerately, formed a 
 temporary pond, and the water drying out underneath, lets the ice down 
 to the bottom and presents a thrilling opportunity for an adventure <>m 
 sled or skates. To get a good start, dash down one side of these natural 
 bowles with all the vim and vigor possible and essay to climb the opposite 
 slope by sheer momentum — this is truly heroic. Caught in the bowl; to 
 climb its ci'evasses and escape imprisonment is a problem indeed. In the 
 most desperate cases, one digs out by cutting steps with a jack knife, just 
 as thgse persons, tiying from wolves, have had to do in the stories that so 
 work upon the mind of the j'ouug reader; and imagination never fails to 
 supply the wolves. Yes, there ai'e good things for the children and their 
 seniors in a good old-fashioned coiintry winter. The subject is almost as 
 
WINTER SPORTS OUT OF DOORS. 31 
 
 inexhaustible as the snow and ice themselves, and as splendid as the crystal 
 storm whose dress of flashing gems sparkle in the sunlight, from the trees 
 and from the house tops, and when the keen, biting "northwester" sweeps 
 across the forests and the fields, once ripe with golden grain. 
 
 G-<5\(er^^S>"^>5 
 
A na/eilcome: TO the: birds. 
 
CH APT Ell VI. 
 
 A \vh:i.(jomk to the huids. 
 
 U(!H of the most luagnilicent river sceaei'y within a few hours reach 
 of our big cities is to be found in the states of Iowa, Minnesota, 
 anil Wisconsin, where perhaps more of tlie fisliing and boating 
 enthusiasts go than to all the other states put together. Most beautiful of 
 all of these streams is the world famous Mississippi. In this stream is to 
 be found both bass and pickei-el. l)Ut with all of the boating fi'aternity, ex- 
 cepting the most ardent anglers, the beauties of the stream, with its high 
 rocky banks, outweigh the piscatorial advantages: however, the Wiscon- 
 sin river, which flows through the "Dells," famous the world over for its 
 beautiful scenery, is not far behind the old ''Father of Waters" in this 
 respect. In upper Wisconsin are foiind the wilder streams, in the less 
 thickly populated parts of the state. Here genuine canoeing can be in- 
 dulged in to the fullest limit There are located on the banks of many of 
 these streams Indians, who in the summer time, make it a business to 
 paddle tourists up and tlown the winding water courses. These streams 
 are. in many parts, far from civilization, and the rugged beauty of the 
 rolling banks has never been marred by the axe of the lumberman. Hun- 
 dre<ls of people make for these fascinating rivers every summer, where 
 they can get the most perfect rest and recreation of the needed character. 
 A more perfect contrast to the (;ity could not be found, and those who are 
 .seeking the enjoyment of i-eveling in wild and uninhabited territory will 
 find it here. The forests, skirting the banks of the streams, are composed 
 almost entirely of pine, and it is said that the health giving odor from 
 these trees is the incentive which lures so many people, almost as strongly 
 as do the untold quantities of l)ass and muskalounge that overrun the 
 majority of the streams. Here the camper is in his glory. Many slee]) in 
 the open air on beds of pine boughs. 
 
 Along some of the streams and long floating routes, composetl of hot h 
 rivers ami lakes, the Indians have built log camping stations at intervals, 
 the length of a day's travel. Each night, with their open air enthusiasts, 
 the Indian guides stop at these log huts and resume their tloatiiig journey 
 the following morning. 
 
 Whatis more grand to these lovers of nature, on arising in the early ilavvn 
 of a spring morning, to hear the familiar call of the robin, then follows 
 the bluebird, and May lirings the oriole. He has i-eturned to his old nest 
 in the tall elm. Day after day his modest little wife, in her gown of gi-een. 
 sits on the cozy nest, while the lord of the manor perches on a slender 
 twig above her, his saucy black head tipped to one side and singing with 
 all his might. It is a g'-eat happiness to welcome these little wanderers 
 home from their all winter's stay in the south: to be prepared with food 
 for our ever ready little songsters when winter steals back witii blizzards 
 
;;i} THE TRUE (GARDEN OF EDEN. 
 
 ••uid snow storms and frost, which tightly loclsS bird graoevies. Not only 
 has home hunting begun, but some of the brave little mothei's are already 
 settled to their summer's work. Owls may be found sitting on nests 
 decorated with icicles. Some of the ground nesting birds make their snug 
 cradles before the snow melts away, and are found buried with their eggs, 
 under the snow, but still cheery and hopeful. 
 
 That eccentric bird, the crossbill, "with songs like legends strange to 
 hear," who pays us fleeting visits from the land of snow and ice, some- 
 times sets up a home in our climate, beguiled, perhaps, by the snow and 
 ice of the early spring months. Even our matter-of-fact friend, the robin, 
 sensible as we should expect her to show herself, even she sometimes grows 
 impatient to see her young family around her and goes to housekeeping 
 too soon. More than once has the little mother been found faithful, but 
 frozen, on her nest. We all, or a majority of us, know of the tragedy of 
 the bluebirds, who a few years ago, perished by the thousands, owing to 
 excessive cold. But as a usual thing the feathered folk weather the storms, 
 seek out some warm retreat among the clo.se-grov\ing evergreens. Hufl'ont 
 their feathers and bear their I'everses like philosophers. 
 
 Spring is the time to study the language of the birds, for in that season 
 of home making and nursery duties all the varied emotions of their lives 
 are called into play. Unlike the rest of the year, they are bound to one 
 place. They can not flee from things unpleasant — they must stay and 
 battle them. The importance of selecting a safe retreat for nesting, the 
 constant watch for enemies, the many and varied dangers that threaten, 
 make these anxious days, and bring out characteristics seen at no other 
 time. Then when setting is over thei-e is a nursery full of helpless nestling 
 to rear, to protect from accidents, to provide with food, to instruct in the 
 I'ight path in life. All these make spring the most serious and eventful, 
 as well as the most interesting season in their lives. At this time the con. 
 versatioual abilities of our little friends are in full play, and they are far 
 greater than is usually supposed. Besides the well known songs and calls 
 with which all lovers of nature and her creatures are familiar, there are 
 many low notes with tlie mates and the young that bless the ear of the 
 sympathetica bird lover alone, and force him to the irresistable conclusion 
 that these low sounds are exchanges of sentiment — talk in fact. No one 
 who has closely studied birds at this period in tlieir lives, doubts that they 
 have some sort of language. 
 
 For what are tie voices of birds. 
 
 Aye and of beasts, but words, our words. 
 
 Only so mucti more sweet. 
 Birds have been known to consult over their dillicuilties, sometimes to dis- 
 pute, to quain'el, to settle upon a line of action and to make little remarks 
 — in bird language. This may be observed with great clearness in captive 
 birds. Where one bird of a certain species will pass his days in silence, 
 except when singing, two of them will keep up a constant chattel'. Con 
 v(M-satioii may l)e seen, too, in the sparrows ot our streets, who arc great 
 
 L.ofC. 
 
A WEIX;()MK TO THE IMKDS. ;j.| 
 
 lalkers. If wo fould uiidei-staiKi we luii^hL get their opinion of us and oi 
 our doings, whicli tliey wateh with so niuoli ai)parent interest. It would 
 be interesting, though pm-haps not tlali Tiiig. to know how huiuan iifi^ap- 
 j>ears from the i)irds' point of view. 
 
 No one will question the assertion that birds can scold. Orioles are the 
 most proticieat in this accomplishment— especially the orciiard oriole, who 
 can hanlly deliver his sweet song without the interpolation of scolding 
 notes. The world seems to be all wrong with this little fellow; even his 
 wooing is rather a savage affair, ami conducted witli many hanl words- 
 His little mate has plainly learned to manage her domineering partner, 
 lor, in the few I haye known, she never talked back, but went quietly on 
 anil had her own way in spite of his blustering. The house wren, too, is 
 :i bumptuous individual, always ready with an opinion and speaking his 
 mind on every occasion. The "tire-winged blackbird' is another who 
 lakes the Dui'den of the whole world on his shoulders, while his mate is 
 setting, and protests vigorously at the intrusion of anyone upon the terri- 
 tory which he claims as his own. Not only does he make it uncomfortable 
 for the feathered w orld, but he has no faith in the honest intentions of the 
 human race. Sound reason h<^ has. too. for that opinion, fur he is one of 
 the prosecuted. 
 
 It is doubtless because of this birds ardous labors in protecting its family 
 that as soon as the young can look out for themselves he returns to his 
 bachelor ways. In a gay Hock all the fathers of a neighborhood depart, 
 leaving their mates and young to shift for themselves. This is a rare oc- 
 currence among birds, who are usually model parents. Most of them not 
 only feed and train their little families in the way they should go, teach 
 them their manners and their songs, but they submit to impositicm of the 
 true American style, at their hands. 
 
 Nothing impresses the intelligent student of bird manners and custonies 
 more strongly than the "human nature"— so called — that they display. 
 Thoir loves and hates, their anxieties and fears, their joys and sorrows, 
 are plain to be seen, and their peculiarities of character are very strongly 
 marked There is a great diversity among them as among one's human 
 acquaintances. They show individuality in disposition and manners, and 
 they do not exactly resemble one another, even in appearance. A close 
 observer comes to know individuals, not merely species. Keepers of birds 
 have long recognized these fai-ts. This is what gives the study of bii-d life 
 its great and lasting charm. Each nen- i)ir(l is a fresh sul)ject. and nesting- 
 time offers tlie golden opportunity to m.ake their ac(iuaintance. There are 
 reasons for the protection of birds aside from the consideration that they 
 keep down the insects which destroy plant life. Birds have a mission 
 other than that of acting as orchard scavangers. They have their esthetic 
 as well as their practical uses. There are strong sentimental rea-sons wliy 
 they should be guarded against harm. They belong to the landscape. 
 The green foliage would he silent and the blue sky would be dull wilhonl 
 
n:> I'HE TRUE (lAKDEN OF EUEX. 
 
 them. Thciv would be no music in the air at morn or eve were tlie little 
 feathered son<f8ters gone. The poet would mourn the lark and the thrusli 
 should they vaai.sh from their leafy haunts and the painter would not be 
 happy without the robin and the sparrow. The birds have been man's 
 friends from the beginning. They liave made tuneful the groves; they 
 have built their nests under tlie home roof tree; they have twittered around 
 the doorsteps of humble habitations and, in their ceaseless industry and 
 glad enjoyment of life, they have been eloquent exemplars to man. whose 
 protection they should enjoy. 
 
 Di'ifting down the river on a summer's afternoon we hear from a hidden 
 thicket the catbird's cry; and a brown thrush, startled by the clank of the 
 row locks. Hits away through the underbrush, piping shrilly. As we drift 
 between the shaded banks and great fields of tall, wild rice waving in the 
 summer's breeze, humlreds of blackbirds, who have been feeding on the 
 rice seeds, I'ise in the air and for a time make the welkin resound witli 
 the rush of their wings. A long legged crane watches us from the mud 
 bank acr(j.ss the stream, and in the shallow water of the sand bar, which 
 reaches far out into the river, a little santlpiper wades in search of foocJ. 
 Suddenly there is a Hash of scarlet; it is tin; tanager, a native of Wiscon- 
 sin, who in some unaccountable manner has strayed to the Iowa .shore. 
 In tiie blue sky above us a huge and gracefully sailing hawk is visible. 
 with iiis wings spread wide. In the fast deepening twilight we moor our 
 craft and as we take the homeward path the night hawks circle about us 
 utterly indifferent to the presence of man. 
 
QUAIL AND partridge: HUNTING 
 
CHAPTER Vll 
 
 QUAIL AND PAUTKIDCJK IIl'N PINO. 
 
 ^1 CROSS the wide stretches of Iowa and Minnesota stubble the* morning 
 JUK sun is just rising — first turning the blaelv of night into gray and 
 then overlaying the gray with purple and gold. The spirits of the 
 <lawn are stirring and they are whispering "hope." The cattle in the 
 pastui'es lazily rise with grunt and groan and make their way to the run- 
 ning waters. From farmhouse chimneys coma thick streaks of wood-tire 
 smoke. One may be sure that "tlie woman of the farm" is up and that 
 "the man" has just turned over in bed for another thirty minute nap. 
 
 A white frost has spread itself all over the laud that a month ago 
 carried the burden of the harve-jtin-s, the whirr of the threshers and the call 
 of the gleaners making sure no waste was left behind. A wagon rumbles 
 as it comes to a county bridge; the hoofs of the flat-shod horses beat with 
 roughness on the stitt' earthen road. In the west tlie morning star winks 
 at tlie earth on which humans rise fi-om sleep with so much trouble. In 
 the wagon sit four men; one drives, tlie other three suck short stemmed 
 pipes and drowse against guns which stand within their arms. 
 
 "Ugh," says one man: it's cold." 
 
 He tishes in the pockets of his (Corduroy jacket and find s a bottle. Each 
 man puts it to his lips. There is a low gurgle heard and then a satisfac- 
 tory smacking of lips. The pipes emit fresh clouds of smoke and the aroma 
 of tobacco lingers over the country way. 
 
 The wagon comes to a clump of trees beside a stubble lield. There 
 the horses are taken from their burden and hitched in their shelter. The 
 driver points toward the stubble and says in half a whisper: 
 
 "This is 'Ihonison's patch, eighty acres: you work it from here west. 
 Bej'ond is Glover Lake and you go around that "bout a mile. Then you 
 come to Smith's eighty, and I guess by the time you get ovi'v that you'll 
 have had all the fun you want for a day. 'Spect you'll get back here'l>out 
 four?" 
 
 "Yes, said one. "if wc lind (Oiickens. '" 
 
 "Can't miss 'em in there. Fine stubble, antl noliody's been bothering 
 'em this season. Birds are plump this year and not a bit leery since the 
 pot hunters have been driven out. So long."' 
 
 The men have thi'ee tine dogs, which during the drive to the stubble, 
 were asleep in the rear of the wagon. Now they are like race horses just 
 before the start. Trained to obey every beck and call of their masters, 
 the pointers make no wild dash into the stul)l)le as a mongrel would, but 
 await the word. The men ai"c examining shells, guns and gamel)ags or 
 pockets and belts. The driver is bringing to the ground, from the wagon, 
 a Dutch oven, significant of what the ending of the day is to be. 
 
 The men climb through a "snake fence" and speak softly to the dogs. 
 
37 THE TRUE GARDEN OF EDEN. 
 
 The law has decreed that chicken hunting shall begin on this day. Until 
 this day the gamey birds of the American West have been free for a year 
 from the hunters. At this moment they are not as wary as they will be a 
 few days later, when the sound of hundreds of guns shall have frightened 
 the wits out of them and driven them to secret hiding places. The dogs 
 have the word. Into the frost-marked stubble they go; not with leap and 
 bound, but with stealthy tread and nose close to the ground. Each man 
 follows his own dog, gun at half rest, eyes keen, every muscle taunt. These 
 men have hunted before. This is the one annual recreation they enjoy. 
 The fresh sweep of the morning air intoxicates them, and counting room 
 and business house are blotted out of the mind, and in their wearisome 
 place comes the fields of stubble, autumn kissed. 
 
 A dog halts; he points: his tail is as straight and as stiff as a ramrod. 
 One instant of silence and then a whirr of wings, a beating of the crisp air 
 with powei'ful fans, and the first covey is up. Up, up, up, the half-dozen 
 birds go, not straight, but diagonally. 
 
 "Bang! bang! bang!" One man is so quick he uses both barrels and 
 gets a bird for each shot. Of the six that rose four are down and the other 
 tAO far away. The dogs bring in the prizes — quivering little bodies, and 
 they disappear quickly into the yawning mouth of the game bags. The 
 dogs resume their work. They nose every shock, avoid the cold scents, 
 and look for the last night's resting place of the birds. Suddenly up and 
 about them, almost in the faces of the hunters, rise an enormous covey. 
 Perhaps thei'e were thirty birds in it, maybe fifty. The dogs were at fault 
 in that they did not warn their masters quick enough. One hunter does 
 tire, but he merely clips the tail feathers of the last bird and does not get 
 him. His companions laugh softly. One calls the dogs back, and each 
 gets a sharp talking to, a talk which, doglike, is understood. The animals 
 seem more shamed than the men that the birds should have surprised them . 
 The men decide to sepai'ate and meet later in Thomsons "eighty." 
 
 The sun is out of the east now and climbing the sky. The man who 
 has turned to the left uncovers a number of birds and bags a half dozen 
 in the first half mile. He throws himself down in the rough field for a 
 moment and brings out from his coat a hard-boiled egg, a saudwich and a 
 Russian caddy of cold tea. In town this man is worth his hundreds of 
 thousands. He is a hard, bargain-driving business man when at home. 
 He feels he must be to hold his place. Out in this stubble field he is alone. 
 Something begins to warm his heart. He tosses the dog a liit of meat, 
 pulls long at his bottle and fills his pipe, being careful to drop no lighted 
 match in the dry waste about him. 
 
 "I was brought up on a farm like this," he says to himself. All the 
 hai'd lines in his face have gone. His own wife would hardly know him. 
 His hands timch the yet warm bodies of the birds, and he syiiipathetieally 
 
QUAIL AND PARTRIDGE HUNTING. 38 
 
 mutters: "Poor little things." 
 
 He feels that he ought to get out into this wilderness oftener; that he 
 is missing something out of life by staying away from it. He wonders 
 that he has never noticed before what a fine old gentleman the sun is early 
 in the morning. And frost? He never knew before that frost could make 
 so many pretty pictures in stubble. He asks himself why that kind of a 
 breeze never comes stealing into his place of business. 
 
 "Couldn't work a minute if it did," he says to himself with a grin. 
 
 His dog is restless. 
 
 "I'd forgive my worst enemy this morning,'" says the man, and rises. 
 The dog goes stx'aight to a stubble patch thirty feet from him. The birds 
 come out of it as if in millions. He gives them both barrels and gets six. 
 
 "Guess the 'old man' isn't so old after all," the hunter laughs. 
 
 Now he tramps uphill and downhill, following the earth waves of the 
 farm. Here he misses an easy shot, there he gets a difficult one, and far 
 away he hears the guns of his comi-ades. A lake looms in view and he 
 gets down on his banquet-tortured stomach, right down in the .sand and 
 mud, and "smooches" his face in the clear waters. He drinks as his dog 
 drinks, and wonders if savagery has not some permaneat charms. Now 
 he has a mile of hard footing and no game. The birds he has brought to 
 earth grow heavy. The gun seems to weigh more than it did earlier in 
 the day. The dog is not as chipper as he was. But both keep at it and 
 they play fair with the hard-fiying birds. No ground shots are tried, and 
 the birds are thus given the full benefit of a complete rise; no shot is taken 
 until the beauties have had a last show for life. 
 
 "If they get away then," says the man, "they are entitled to their free- 
 dom." 
 
 His comrades join him in Smith's "eighty." They count birds. The 
 trio have sixtyfive and it is after three o'clock. All the lunch they car- 
 ried in their pockets has been devoured. They start back for the wagon. 
 Their man is waiting for them. He has a tire burning under the Dutch 
 oven and the pot is full of boiling water. He beheads bird after bird, 
 draws it, strips the feathers, and drops tne bodies into the water. He also 
 throws in a generous supply of onions, carrots and potatoes. Then a big 
 lump of butter secured from a fa^'mhouse and much pepper and salt. The 
 men lie about the tire smoking. The odor from the pot tantalizes them. 
 When it is finally set before them and long spoons and forks given them 
 they pitch into the savory mess like wolves. Did you ever eat a bird 
 cooked that way, out in the open, with a big moon coming up in the east, 
 and all your creditors one hundred miles away? 
 
 After the feast, a little liquid refreshment, then the pipes and a story, 
 then into the wagon and back to the country house for a long nijjht's sleep. 
 
39 THE TRUE GARDEN OF EDEN. 
 
 The moonlight floods the three men as they ride back in the wagon. In 
 the stubble the birds are '"peeping" lightly after the worries of the day. 
 The dogs are asleep. Here and there a star marks the heavens. The 
 night wind has come after that of the dawn. Light in farmhouses flash 
 out, live a moment and are gone. An express train rumbles aci'oss the 
 country, a meteor mocks it in the skies. Horses in the field neigh at the 
 passing team. 
 
 This is prairie chicken hunting. 
 
 THE END. 
 

 ik- 
 
 i If 
 
 
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 ■II 
 
 
 
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 fWEND BRfllMRS aOTfflNG CO, 
 
 Complete Line of Summer 
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 GROCER. 
 
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 COMPLETE LINE FANCY 
 
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 PR.OMPT ATTENTION GIVEN ALL ORDERS. 
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Buy yoor Surries and Buggies 
 
 ...FROM... 
 
 &^i 
 
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 A little more complete— a bigger variety and a better selection than 
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 That is what you will have to admit when you examine my beautiful 
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 SPRSNG AND SUMMER 
 
 I have never before shown so handsome a line of bright novelties.and 
 am coiitident that I am prepared to gratity errvy ta<t". 1 call special at- 
 tention to the nobby "BlacK and White" effects > Inch will predominate 
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 and up ; overcoats $14 and up Style right, fit right. 
 
 A. L. EDIN, The Tailor. 
 
GO TO THE 
 
 FOR NEAT, CLEAN SERVICE AND COURTEOUS TREATMENT. 
 
 SeversoE 
 
 PROPRIETORS. 
 
 S Boor West* of Nacbt»weys. 
 
 That is what we want to know about everything you buy here. 
 Not only at the time you buy but after yon leave the store. If it isn't come 
 and get your money back. Glad to give it ti> yon. Perhaps an unusual 
 policy for a drug store, but this is an unnsu 1 < rug store. 
 
 J. AckerroiaFi.Bp Lj.ms!ng, Iowa. 
 
First*-class work in every department 
 
 Wag 
 
 LANSING. - IOWA. 
 
 ORs •AND... Carriag 
 
 OF THE BEST MAKES. 
 
 Those who patronize our repair departments are always pleased. 
 Our Long Establishment in Business is a Guarantee of Satisfaction 
 
 jiobt. ^tuf Schmidt^ 
 
 oCeading dealer in 
 J*arm SHachinory... 
 
 Only the Best and Most Reliable Makes. Prices at all Times Right 
 
Have You Seen The Acme Healer and Air Circulator ? 
 Guaranteed far Superior to Any Ever invemed-Reasons Why 
 
 1. Its ereat economy. It burns no 
 fuel, uses only smoke and wate heat from 
 the stove or furnace. 
 
 2. It secures complete circulation ot 
 air in the room where it is placed, thereby 
 contributing to both health and comfort. 
 
 3. It saves coal bills. When attached 
 in the same room with the stove, it wil 
 neat the room quicker and better, often 
 saving more than half the fuel. j^ 
 
 4. It saves wood. The saving in time 
 used in cutting wood will soon pay for the 
 heater. It may be also attached to oi 
 stoves with good results. 
 
 5. It will heat an extra room without 
 extra fuel, and often with less fuel than 
 was used with the stove alone to heat one , 
 room. 
 
 6. The kindling wood used in slartini;1. 
 a coal fire in connection with this heater, ,'., 
 will warm a room in half the time the fire 
 would after it is started. 
 
 7. Can be attached an v where between the 
 
 stove or tdina"'^ 
 
 n,nd 
 
 the chimney, in the same room, or adjacent room, or ou any floor 
 above. 
 
 8. It is cheap. A saving of ten cents a day f<M- fo'irorfive 
 months will pay for one. The savmg of fuel will pay lor o;ie many 
 times over. 
 
 9. It is clean, neat and handsome in appearanc. An extra 
 stove may be taken out, or an extra room warmed, wii h no dirt, no 
 ashes, no extra fuel to supply. 
 
 10. The Acme Heater is sold on its merits. Any p rson having 
 use for it, may have one placed in his house, store, or sh\ip vrhpri* 
 it may be given a thorough trial, and if not as represented it will 
 be removed without expense. 
 
 Sold and Manufactured bu JULIUS RIETH, Lansing, Iowa. 
 
 Township Rights for Sale. Owner of Patent Right for Allamakee and 
 Clayton Counties, 
 
WQl 
 
LIBRPRY OF CONGRESS 
 
 016 096 576 9