desired information, and especially willing to help them locate in their particular county. He heard their reports and concluded that the descriptions given about this district were especially favorable, he returned with the information to La Platte, when it was soon decided that the brothers would come out and secure homesteads.

     They made their way to Camden, an old freighting town; where they met Mr. Fred Roper, a land agent, who brought them into the country to see the land, and liking the land of this neighborhood, they decided to locate here, selecting the South half of Section 14, as being the best to meet their purpose. They stayed over night with the Miner brothers, who at that time lived in a tent. The following day they had dinner with Schyler "Elkhorn" Jones. They were able to locate the land with the help of Mr. Roper, he counting the horse's steps from Miner's corner, and then looking for the next stake, which at once gave them the situation of the land. It was decided that Palmer would take the South half of the South-west quarter, the brother-in-law, J. Tanner, the North half of the South-west quarter, brother Alonzo the South half of the South-east quarter and their mother the North half of the South-east quarter.

     They returned to La Platte, and they returned again to the claims in the fall and put up a sod house, and made some hay, and again returned to La Platte for the winter. In January, 1871, Mr. Rice helped to move Mr. Tanner onto his claim, and on the return trip had his first experience of Nebraska's cold weather, he was not prepared for such an experience, it was with difficulty he kept himself going, and had he in the least missed his way, he would have been frozen to death.

     He made another trip in March, bringing Mrs. Rice and part of his goods. The sod house in the meantime had shrunken so much that the winds had no difficulty in finding their way into the house, especially at the eaves, and as a result of the cold condition of the house, Mrs. Rice was sick for some time afterwards.

     Mr. Rice made another trip to La Platte in April to help in the removal of the other relatives from their homesteads, and on reaching Camden, saw Dr. Smith with a load of lumber, nails, etc., stuck fast in the Blue river. He went at once to the doctor's assistance, and having secured some chains and ropes, they braced the wagon so as to bear the strain, and then hitched the extra horses and soon had the wagon on dry land.

     Because of the loss of the corn crops by the grasshoppers in 1874, many people were returning East, but the Rices decided to remain; fuel would be scarce that winter, so they had the stove fixed down the cellar, and lived there, using corn stalks for cooking and heating purposes. One day when Mr. Rice was in the field cutting corn stalks, some Indians made their way to the house. Mrs. Rice was alone, but she knew the dog was able to keep Indians at bay, they looked around the house, but when they knew of the dog they soon went away.

     Many of the farmers in the district were afraid to sow their wheat the spring after the visit of the grasshoppers, it was thought that owing to the large number of their eggs left in the land a wheat crop would be impossible that year, but Mr. Rice believing that there was no great risk, he secured extra land, the farmers supplying the wheat and accepting his note. The average yield of wheat was 12 bushels an acre, the first sales bringing 55 cents a bushel, but the price went up to $1.30 a bushel, so that Mr. Rice had made a good speculation. He helped his living for sixteen years by working the taxes for the railroad.

     During the first year of his residence, this district was under the jurisdiction of Saline County, and settlers paid the taxes there. Then Fillmore County was organized on the 21st day of April, 1871, and he sat on the first election board for four townships, the meeting being held in "Jim" Horne's

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yard; Mr. Horne was away buffalo hunting at the time.

     The first trail across the prairie was made by Schyler Jones from Johnson creek to his own place, Mr. Rice made the trail from Jones' to his place, and "Boss" Woodard continued the trail to where he lived, this remained the chief road to Exeter for some time.

     The Tanners had the misfortune to lose, by death, in the early days, a little boy named Alonzo, aged four years. His body still lies buried on the Palmer Rice farm.

     Thomas Edwards, a brother-in-law, (an Englishman) died at Hebron; he had no blood relatives in this country, and his last request was that he might be buried with the Rice family. He was buried near the little boy on the farm, but was afterwards removed to the new Cemetery and now lies under a lilac bush.

PATRICK MURPHY

     Patrick Murphy came to this country from Dunmanway, County Cork, Ireland, in 1866, landing at Castle Gardens, New York. For four years he lived near Rochester, N. Y., and learned the nursery business. In April 1870, he came to Omaha, and worked for a time on the Telegraph lines, later in the year, he, in company with three other young men bought an ox team, covered wagon, and paching (sic) outfit, and having secured some tools they set out to look for homesteads. They journeyed on to Lincoln, then to Beatrice, and along the Little Blue to Spring Ranch and Red Cloud on the Republican River, but not being satisfied with the country in those parts, they returned to the edge of Saline County and camped near the Turkey Creek.

     Two were then appointed to stay by the goods, while two went and sought out claims. having secured the numbers of vacant claims, they then went to Beatrice after their mail. The other three young men received letters from their railroad employers, saying, their jobs were still open to them if they would return. This temptation proved sufficient, for they decided they had seen enough of land and returned.

     Mr. Murphy had sufficient money to buy their interests in the outfit; so he bought them out, but drove them to Lincoln, where they said, goodby, and have not since met,

     Mr. Murphy was now on his own, and having fixed himself up with a supply of flour, lard, and lumber, he started out for his homestead, reaching his destination on December, first, 1870.

     Within a week he had a dugout ready for occupation, the roof was made of poles from Turkey Creek, slough grass and dirt, with an upper layer of sod. During those early days he went sixteen miles for a load of hay, and had to ford the creek twice to bring it home - there were no bridges then west of Crete. He would also go to Beaver Crossing on horseback, a distance of sixteen miles, carrying a sack of meal and securing flour; he worked on the railroad at Fairmont, and on to Hastings before it was a town, and saw the erecting of the first house.

     During the winter of 1870 the Indians were camped along the Little Blue, and many were scared because of their presence. There was no stove in the Murphy dugout, the cooking being done on a fireplace, and the baking in a dutch oven. One night during the visit of these Indians, Mr. Murphy was lying in bed; when he heard the sods of his chimney falling into the fireplace; he was soon up and dressed, secured his loaded rifle, and stealtily (sic) opening the door he peeked towards the chimney for the enemy, wondering what might happen next, when to his surprise and relief, he found it was his ox mounted on the bank side just within reach of the chimney, and deliber-

21

 

ately hooking away with his horns, causing the sods to fall into the house. This was very unkind of the ox to play such nerve straining pranks at such a time, but what a relief! No doubt as some people say, "his heart was in his mouth," but it would now find a more normal condition seeing there were no Indians.

     There was a neighbor named Elias Peterman, a harness maker by trade, who, with his wife and family was trying to make his way in the world, so they would take in boarders and he would go and work at his trade in neighboring towns. They had an Englishman named "Bill Haimes" boarding with them at the time, and "Elias" was away from home, all went well until one midnight a heifer managed to get onto the roof of the house, and soon had its front feet and horns sticking through the ceiling. Bill Haimes made his way in the dark to where the ceiling was falling in, and groping around with his hands, caught hold of those feet and horns, "Why," said Bill, when telling the story. "I thought I had caught hold of the devil." The mother and children had just got out of their bed when the heifer fell through, breaking the bed to pieces.

     Such were the experiences in the days when generally speaking people had not $10 in cash. Rye was roasted for coffee, and luxuries were as George Eliot would have said, "superlatively middling, and the quintessence of extreme mediocrity."

     In speaking of the change of the physical aspect of the country, Mr. Murphy was bold enough to suggest that it had been spoiled rather than otherwise; Nebraska, locally speaking, had lost its romantic beauty by the planting of too many trees - and he is a professional nurseryman. He thought of the beautiful and almost unlimited views that have been lost by these modern improvements, as we call them.

     He spoke of a beauiful (sic) view formerly seen from a rise near the Turkey creek, when in the early spring he would look with delight along the valley with its opening leaf and springing grass, the water glistening in the sunlight, as it moved along serpentine fashion; winding and wending its way across a mighty continent to the mighty deep "Beautiful for situation and every prospect pleasing."

     I began to think there was some truth in the old saying, "I cannot see wood for trees." Mrs. Keller, a neighbor would run onto the roof of her house when dinner was ready to see if her husband was coming, then, away in the distance she would see him making his way to partake of that which was the evidence of her wifely care and forethought; and surely nothing pleases a woman more, than, to see the man on time when the meal is ready. But now, she could not see beyond the house yard or the home pasture at most. Another question which might be asked, is, "have we gained anything by the loss of the 'Mirage' as seen in the pioneer days?"

     Mr. Murphy grafted the first trees at the Crete Nursery, and planted most of the trees in the Exeter Cemetery; he has handled and raised trees for years. Ten years after homesteading he took a partner, not for the business but for the home. They have had ten children, and have the joy of knowing they are all doing well.

     The last, and not by any means the least of the things we mention regarding this worthy pioneer from the "Emerald Isle," is, his having represented Fillmore County in the State Legislature during two terms 1907-1911, (on the Democratic Ticket.)

     America has given a home to many Irishmen, but in their accepting of her homes, we may also see how America owes a great debt of gratitude to "Old Oirland" for giving her so many noble sons.

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PARKER RYAN.

     Parker Ryan was born at Waterloo, New York State, and afterwards lived in Peoria County, Ill. He came to Nebraska in company with Lawrence Ryan, his brother, Pat Drummond, Michael Sweeley and Henry Hammond in 1870. They filed for homesteads in that year, Parker Ryan taking the N. E. quarter of section 8, town 8, Range 1, Lawrence Ryan taking the S. E. quarter, and Pat Drummond the N. W. quarter of the same section. Michael Sweeey (sic) settled on the S. W. quarter of Section 4, and Henry Hammond on the N. W. quarter of that section. Mrs. Ryan and the children left Peoria, Ill., in March 1871, and on the way spent a week at Afton, Iowa, where they were met by Mr. Ryan and then came on to Lincoln, from whence they completed the journey in wagons, arriving at the homestead on April 6.

     For some time after they arrived they camped, using the wagon beds for sleeping. Five days after their arrival the two Ryans, Drummond, and Sweeley had set out for Lincoln to obtain goods and machinery. On the Sunday morning the sun was shining brightly and gave promise for a pleasant day, but ere long the clouds began to gather; rain began to fall, followed by a snow storm which developed into a blizzard. Mrs. Ryan with her little girl and baby sought shelter about 10 o'clock Sunday morning, in the wagon where she could keep the children warm. The brother-in-law, Oliver Johns, nailing some carpet over the wagon front to help matters; then he with his wife and the mother of the two women went into the other wagon, they fortunately had a barrel of crackers with them, while there was nothing eatable in the wagon with Mrs. Ryan and the two children. The storm increased in fury and continued incessantly until 2 o'clock Tuesday afternoon, during which time the mother and little girl had nothing to eat or drink, and the baby just what was possible from a mother receiving no support. Mr. Johns had come near them a time or two to ask after them but was unable in the storm to render any help, and when the storm abated and he speedily sought to relieve them, everything was frozen so hard that an axe was necessary to cut a way into the wagon. Soon after they had been liberated and a fire started the other men returned, they had gone no further than Walnut creek where they stopped owing to the storm, and now, without going to Lincoln, had returned to see if their people were still alive.

     Their cattle were lost in this storm, but were afterwards found near the Turkey creek; a homesteader down there had taken them in and fed them.

     The Sweeley house was built first, then P. Ryan's was erected, and dugout was made for Drummond; after which they all helped to erect houses for Hammond and L. Ryan; most of them lived in the wagons till June.

     Shortly after the Ryans went into their new home; a house of one room, 14 by 16 feet, they had to entertain three Gentlemen who were traveling through the country, these were a Judge and two Lawyers from Omaha. The accommodation possible was very scanty, but they were determined to stay, so the Judge and one Lawyer slept on the table, while the other Lawyer slept on a piece of carpet under the table. Matters would not have been so bad considering these limitations had not the Judge fallen off the table onto the Lawyer, who happened to be lying at the time partly from beneath owing to his unconscious search for a softer place.

     As is well known, the homesteaders had to live very close to their lands in those days, or someone was sure to jump their claim. The Ryans were away for one week visiting friends in the East, and on the return journey they met several men with two wagons, and having entered into conversation with them; the men told them they were on their way to jump a claim, giving number and location of the land; which as it happened was Ryan's

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homestead. Here was an opportunity to show tact and wisdom, and to prove that "a closed mouth makes a wise head." They journeyed on, but when near their homestead the Ryans managed to get ahead of the other wagons, and had their wagon full length on the claim in time to retain it before the men realized what had happened.

     The south West quarter on section 10 was jumped 5 times, three men losing their lives as a result. Two were killed outright, and the third died of his wounds. Two of these men fought and killed each other, one being shot dead just as he ran his pitchfork through the other; so that each lost his life as well as the claim. Two of the three killed had been soldiers in the Civil War.

     A large herd of Texas cattle had passed over the prairies and one of the drovers was returning on horseback alone, and well armed. He called at the Ryan home and demanded to know if any of the men were at home. It happened that though Mrs. Ryan was alone at the time she saw Lawrence Ryan coming in the distance; so she said "No, the men are not at home, but one is coming." It was evident the man meant to be mean, for he became insolent and abusive. When the brother came up he demanded to know his business, and soon would there have been serious trouble had not the husband put in an appearance and seperated (sic) the two men.

     One day two men rode up to the house and were asking particulars regarding the country when they noticed the well marked trails of the Texas Cattle, and one asked the women if they were Indian trails? And one answering in fun, said they were. It was noticed that they looked rather frightened, so when they next asked; "If the women ever saw Indians?" One of them put on a bold front and said, "Yes! lots of them; we saw 20 Indians not long ago,," - but did not have time to say they were with the Government agent. That proved sufficient for these men, for they instantly turned their horses and fled back East, and though the hat of one of them blew off they did not stop to pick it up.

     The men were digging a well at Mr. Drummond's, and one morning Mrs. Ryan said to her husbanad (sic), "I would like to go and spend the day there," so they started at daybreak, returning late in the evening, and left the screen door open overnight. The second night they reached home about 11 o'clock, and as she laid the baby in bed she heard an unusual noise, and wondered what it could be, the husband said he could not hear anything, so she got into bed, but soon jumped out again declaring that there was something that made a noise like a muffled rattle, at which the husband replied, "Get into bed, there is nothing! that is just like a woman, scared at the noise of a cricket." The next morning they were up early Mr. Ryan returning to the well digging, and Mrs. Ryan made ready for the washing. When she was busy about the boiler and stove the little girl came running out of the house screaming and shouting, "A Snake! a snake!" On going into the house Mrs. Ryan saw the snake sitting upon the bed "rattling to beat the band." It had been lying between some comforters that were between the bed and mattress, and right in the place where she bad slept all night. In pulling off the bedclothes for the washing, the snake had been liberated and so made its way onto the top of the bed. A hoe was secured with which Mrs. Ryan attacked the snake. It would stand on its tail and strike at her, then coil and strike again, she managing to keep clear of its blows, after great difficulty and determination she succeeded in laying the reptile low. Needless to say there was no washing done that day, she being completely overcome with fright and exertion. When Mr. Ryan returned he found his wife in a sad state, she could not speak, and he was at a loss to know what had happened, and there was nothing that seemed possible for him to do to help her seeing she could not talk, and no doubt his

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patience was tested. At last she struggled to the door and out to where the dead snake lay, and with one desperae (sic) effort, she said, "There's your cricket!" There was no going to bed that night, everything in the house was turned out to make sure there were no more snakes around, for even the brave man had become weak at the thought of having slept in the bed with a rattle snake. It had 8 rattles and a button, (nearly 9 years old) and measured nearly 3 feet long.

     When visiting the little town of Exeter, in the days when there were no drinking fountains with flowing sparkling water in the street, (as now), they had to quench their thirst by drinking the water from the "draws," covering the cup with a handkerchief that it might act as a filter. The water for home purposes was brought from the Blue, until it was possible for them to have a well.

     A church and Sunday School were organized in the district Schoolhouse, the preacher being Rev. Simson of the U. B. church, but as a result of the changed conditions, neither church or Sunday School is now held.

     The first crop upon the Ryan farm was a 5 acre field of oats, which seemed in every way satisfactory. This being the first to be thrashed in the neighborhood, everyone was desirous to know how it would turn out; so they all came to the thrashing. From far and near the homesteaders gathered that day at the Ryan home, bringing not only their horses to pull their wagons, but other stock as well, seeing there would be no one home to feed them. The house, as already mentioned, was only of one room, but 60 men, women, and children were provided with dinner and every horse a feed of oats. The horses were tied up wherever possible around the place and for each group a bushel basket of oats was thrown on the ground, which necessarily meant some amount of waste. When the thrashing was over, there being no money, the thrashers had their share of oats, probably 10 or 12 bushels for doing the work. Then, when Mr. Ryan came into the house, Mrs. Ryan wanted to know how he would take care of his oats seeing he had no granery (sic). "0! I think I can manage to take care of my share of the oats all right," said Mr. Ryan, and undoubtedly he could do so for the quantity of oats that fell to his lot after his wholesale feeding of his neighbors horses measured half a bushel.

     Mrs. Ryan is now Mrs. Wolstenholm and still lives in Exeter.

WALTER HOWARTH.

     Mr. Walter Howarth came to this district on April 1st 1872 and homesteaded half a mile north of Turkey creek on the county line. He is a native of Bolton, Lancashire, England, coming from a densely populated, and an immense manufacturing community to live on the lonely prairie, thus leaving the possibilities of muslins, calicos, and woolen goods for those of the corn cob silk.

     When he landed there was no depot at Exeter or Friend, they were merely flag stations; the train never stopped, it just slackened speed a little, and he had to throw off his grips and jump. How different the country looked; very few trees, nearly all the settlers lived in dug-outs or sod houses, and very rarely was a frame house to be seen.

     In those days the Indians came up the creek every winter trapping, and often he went in company with other young fellows and would sit in one of their tents in the evening to see their mode of life, but not to be edified by their conversation. Only some of their younger boys could speak a little English, and they never spoke unless spoken to, but they made them wel-

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come, and gave them a seat by the fire more especially if they came with a little gift of tobacco. Nearly every evening they were there their medicine man, a tall intelligent looking Indian was orating to them, of course they could not understand the story, but it seemed to greatly interest the Indians for they listened with rapt attention occasionally breaking into a ripple of smiles, probably, when he was telling of some particularly brave deed done by a member of the tribe. For an hour at a time he would talk on and on never stopping except to fill the pipe, for he seemed to have charge of the tobacco, and always had the first pull at the pipe before passing it around the circle.

     One of the settlers on the creek had lost a number of turkeys with the cholera and had thrown them into the bush, and this same lot of Indians (they were Omahas and Pawnees) found them and while they lasted the odors from their camp kettle were most fragrant.

     One night he was sitting in the tent next to a particularly good looking Indian maiden, when she got hungry and putting her hand under a pile of buffalo robes on which they were sitting, pulled out a big cow's liver which someone had given them, and cutting on two or three slices with a dirty looking butcher knife, threw them on the fire in the middle of the tent, and when they were just barely warmed, drew them out and began to eat. This and other things he saw knocked all the romance of Indian life out of Mr. Howarth, no such cooking for him.

     During the time Mr. Howarth was teaching school, one day one of the girls who lived near the school house (a sod affair) stayed at home to help her mother Wash. About the middle of the forenoon she ran into the school house crying as if her heart would break, "Oh! teacher," she said, "Will you and the big boys come over, papa's away, and the house is full of Indians." Of course they went, and found 15 or 20 Indians in possession. Houses in those days were wonderfully elastic affairs, and though this consisted of only one room, yet it held the beds and furniture for a average sized family, and in addition a little stock of groceries. The Indians were taking these from the shelves and asking for them; after they got there the Indians bought and paid for a few things and soon left, but there was no more school that morning. The girl and her mother were in no personal danger, but no doubt they would have stolen something, and as one of the Indians was sharpening his hatchet on a little grindstone which stood near the door, poor little Jennie thought her last day had surely come.

     That school house, crude affair as it was, with sod walls, home-made desks, and planks for seats, turned out two or three pupils who afterwards became very successful teachers; they didn't have a little smattering* of Latin or Algebra or Botany, but were well grounded in the essentials - the 3 R's and after that the rest was easy of accomplishment.

     One spring morning he was busily at work in the yard, he had finished teaching school the week before, (here let us say, that in the 5 years he taught, 6 months was the school term, and $25 per month the highest salary he received) and had just drawn all his back pay. It was a beautiful morning, the kind of a day which makes one glad to be alive, and altogether he was feeling particularly happy and free from care. The poet says; "In Spring the young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love" and he was singing at the top of his voice, "Come where my love lies dreaming," (The strains of which in some way or other reached Bolton with satisfactory results) when happening to turn round there stood a 6 foot Indian right close to him. The moment he saw him the thought of his money came into his mind, for he had taken his purse from his pocket and thrown it into the cupboard, and the house door was open and the cupboard door also, and to get to him the Indian had to pass the open door. So Mr.

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Howarth grabbed up his hatchet and ran to the house; and if the purse was not there, right there was going to be a fight between an Englishman and an Indian. But there it was in plain sight, so he invited Mr. Indian into the house and had a visit. The Indian couldn't speak much English but, he could beg and proceeded to do so. On the table was a side of bacon from which that morning he had taken te (sic) ribs intending to boil them with some beans, so when he asked for meat he gave him the ribs, he held them in one hand and looked them over, then put them in the other hand and took another look, then put the poor ribs on the table and grunted "no good" didn't want them; and after they had been in his dirty paws Mr. Howarth didn't want them either so he threw them outside to the dog. After that the Indian saw the writing materials on the table, and drew from some part of his dress a letter or permit given to him by the Indian Agent when he was leaving the reservation. The letter was torn, creased and very dirty, and he made it known that he wanted a clean copy, which Mr. Howarth soon made. It stated that John Wangawah was a good Indian, but in great heed of help, that it would be an act of Christian charity to aid him, and that he would pray continually for all those who bestowed gifts upon him.

     In telling us these stories - without intending to do so - he has shown us the condition of a bachelor's shanty, writing materials and a side of bacon on the same table, and without doubt, a pile of unwashed dishes; these latter were attended to quite religiously every Sunday. It was on the same trip of the Indians that two or three of them suddenly appeared at the door of a dug out and so frightened the woman of the house - a very large fleshy person - that she dived under the bedstead - a home made contrivance of ash poles - and there stuck until relieved by her husband.

     Churches, there were none, but occasionally an itinenant (sic) preacher came around and held services wherever he could; either in a private house or school house. They were generally of that brand who believe the more noise they make the more effect they will have. He remembers one who apologized, saying he was not the man he once was, as now he had only one lung, but after he was well warmed up, he yelled with forty lung power, sad to say the boys in the back seats were falling off with laughter. Never before or since has he heard such a racket in a place of worship, no doubt the man meant well, but instead of creating a reverant (sic) feeling he dispelled it. He thinks it was in that same series of meetings that the preacher in a Sunday School class asked one of the boys a question he could not answer; so he said "I pass" and immediately the next boy said "then clubs are trumps" and both teacher and class laughed.

     The people came to the meetings on horseback or in wagons, some in wagons drawn by oxen, he did not know of a man who owned a buggy, and doubts if there were half a dozen in the county.

     What would now be regarded as horrible hardships were not so looked upon by the early settlers, but taken as part of the ordinary routine of life. For instance one of them said, he and his wife lived on corn meal mush three times a day until they tired of it, and he started out on foot to Milford, a distance of at least 25 miles and brought home on his back all that distance, a sack of flour and he didn't seem to think he had done anything extraordinary. Others have said that when they first came here, they had to go to Nebraska City for their groceries, but one thing is certain their wants were not many.

     A few of the genuine old frontiersmen who had come in and settled on the creek. some 8 or 10 years before his arrival were still scattered here and there, but the country soon became too thickly settled, and they sold out and moved again still farther West. They had characteristics all their own; never very anxious to work, and content with the simple necessities, they lived an easy life.

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     After the grasshopper visitation of '74 there was great distress in Nebraska, and charitable people in the East sent a number of car loads of provisions and clothing for the "grasshopper sufferers" as they were called. Mr. Howarth was one of a committee of two appointed to go around their school district and see who were in need of aid, or rather who would accept it, while they were all poor, some were poorer than others, yet some were too proud to accept charity. It was a bitterly cold morning when they started on their rounds - 10 or 15 below zero. They called at every house in the district and in so doing had to cross the creek a couple of times, the ice being 12 or 14 inches thick, but on their last time over he happened to step on some thin ice over a spring and went down clear to his arm pits, the companion pulled him out and they started for his house about half a mile away, but it was not long before his clothing was frozen stiff and jingled like the bead and jet ornaments on a ladies dress.

     After putting on a complete change of clothing belonging to the companion which was several sizes too large, they started for Friend with the list of requirements but unfortunately arrived too late, for all the most desirable articles had been taken, and all they got were two or three pounds of plug tobacco and some cloaks and dresses. These they distributed but the recipients did not seem very grateful they expected someting (sic) better and they never got any thanks for their labor. Those were hard times and many left the country, he remembers seeing an emigrant wagon going East on the cover of which was printed "In God we trusted in Nebraska we busted, off back to my wife's folks," but of those who stayed most have achieved a fair measure of success, and the old days are a pleasant recollection,

     Fred Walmsley came from Bolton, England, with Mr. Howarth and homesteaded south of the Turkey creek, but remained only one year; commuting for his claim and receiving a deed by paying two and a half dollars per acre, and returned to his native hearth. While here he passed through the blizzard of '73, when he was snowed in for three days and had to find a way to daylight by opening the window and boring a hole through the snow with a broomstick; afterwards making his escape with the help of an Irish neighbor named Tom Gilroy, who had come to see what had become of the young Englishman, by burrowing his way through that hole to liberty.

     During that brief stay, he, with Mr. Howarth entertained some lady friends to dinner. The menu for that specific occasion is not forthcoming, but whether or not after the American or English style; there is reason to believe that "All's well that ends well" is applicable as far as the dinner itself was concerned, for it won unstinted praise.

     The only difficulty arising in connection with the undertaking was the losing of the dishcloth, which loss, for a time hindered the bachelors from washing the dishes. But as Shakespeare says "Wise men ne'er sit and wail their loss, but cheerly seek how to redress their harms," so they sought for it. We cannot now tell how much of blame or suspicion was placed upon their lady guests, or even if they deserved any! but let us remember, quoting again their illustrious poet, "Men are men; the best sometimes forget" - where they lay the dishcloth. So after all these years, and especially for the benefit of posterity, hoping at the same time to free the innocent from any blame or suspicion, I set on record, that the dishcloth was found safe and snug as though it were a linen handkerchief, carefully tucked away in Fred Walmsley's hip pocket, but again the poet says; "Sweet are the uses of adversity," and who knows how much of good resulted from that experience? The one's continued life on the land, and the other's subsequent life in the city of Manchester, England, are perhaps richer and

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fuller for having provided that dinner, and for a time, losing that dishcloth in those far off pioneer days.

MR. CHARLES HOLE

     Mr. Charles Hole came to America, in 1870, from West Pennard, near the famous city of Glastonbury, Somersetshire, England. He landed in Boston, and made his way up to Detroit, where he lived for two years. In April 1872, he came to Exeter, Nebr., and homesteaded 80 acres of land three miles south of town. There were three other young men who came from Somerset at that time and settled in this neighborhood, Alfred Corp, "Bill" Haimes, already mentioned elsewhere, and Frank Appleby, a cousin to Haimes. We can quite imagine how great would be the change of environment offered to these young men by the open prairie, they having come from so beautiful a county as Somerset; it being only excelled for beauty by its neighbor, Devonshire, and from such an historic place as Glastonbury.

     According to the old legend, it was to Glastonbury that Joseph of Arimathea came with eleven other disciples, when sent to England by Philip, the Lord's disciple, soon after the death of Jesus. Taking with him

"The cup, the cup itself, from which our Lord
     Drank at the last sad supper with his own,
To Glastonbury, where the winter thorn
     Blossoms at Christmas, mindful of our "Lord."

     At Glastonbury is found the site of the earliest Christian Church in Great Britain; said to have been completed in the year 64, A. D.

     Here too, is the burial place of the famous King "Arthur" and his Queen, "Guinevere."

     We are reminded of Tennyson's "Morte D' Arthur":

"Pray for my soul; more things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of,
. . . . . . . . . . .
But now farewell, I am going a long way
. . . . . . . . . . .
To this island vally of Avilion;
Where I shall heal me of my grevious wound."

But the King died.
      Also of his "Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere:"

"Then in the boyhood of the year
     Sir Launcelot and Queen Guinevere
Rode thro' the coverts of the deer
. . . . . . . . . . .
     With blissful treble mingling clear,
She seem'd a part of joyous spring
     A man bad given all other bliss,
And all his worldly worth for this
To waste his whole heart in one kiss
     Upon her perfect lips."

     "Me hopes - to use the brogue common in this part of England - I baint saying more than is necessary about thick there three lads coom from Zomerset, and the ist'ry of their plazes."

     Having commence my Christian ministry in that country, and for nearly three years going in and out its thatched homes, and old world gardens, and Ming climbed the Quantock and Brendon hills, and visited the shrines of its Poets and Prophets, and many of the places made famous in Blackmore's "Lorna Doone;" all of which are places that Americans love

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to visit. I thought it would be to our advantage; "If us knows something about the plazes I have tooched upon and which I zay, show us in contrast perhaps more so than oother plazes, the great changes of anvirinment some people have made in coming from the old world to the new." There's a country where hedges, ferns, flowers and fruits are most luxurious and abundant, yet, they came and settled on an open prairie, an antithesis in every relationship.

     Frank Appleby found an early grave; he died at the residence of Warren Woodard in the spring of 1872, and was the first white man buried in this district, his grave being at first south of town, but his body was afterwards laid to rest in the new cemetery.

     He was a carpenter by trade and went to work on the new bridge over the Platte river at Kearney. Having to work in the water, he caught a cold which developed pneumonia with which he died.

     Mr. Hole married and settled in Exeter in 1878. Then in 1881 he built his present home, having now lived in it 33 years. They are believed to be the only people in town who have lived so long a time in one house. On the afternoon of their marriage they bought a cook stove, which stove, after 36 years, they are still using. It has not only had the regular wear and tear for so many years, but the first two winters it burned corn; which is considered extra hot in the burning. Corn at that time was worth only 10 cents a bushel, so in many cases it was burned instead of coal.

W. J. WAITE'S EARLY HISTORY.

     My good friend and neighbor, Rev. G. R. McKeith, has asked me for a few lines regarding my recollections of the early days of Exeter. I have gotten somehow out of the writing habit and my first recollection of Exeter is somewhat vague. The first time I saw it, I didn't see it because it wasn't there (or should I say here?) In the early days of the summer of 1871, the Burlington & Missouri River Railroad in Nebraska, (for such was its legal and official name at that time), was in operation from Plattsmouth to Crete, with a short stub from Oreapolis to Omaha. West of Crete construction work was going on at different points between Crete and, as we always said in those days, Ft. Kearney. From Crete Westward we could have the choice of walking or negotiate with the fellows running the construction train. We negotiated and got to the end of the track and I have often wondered what that red-headed brakeman did with the money. Anyhow he was a good fellow and shared his lunch with us.

     The end of the track at that time was but a short distance east of where Exeter now is, a mile perhaps, for it was not a long walk to the home of Warren Woodard where we were told we could get a conveyance to take us to School Creek, as the present city of Sutton was then generally called.

     In our party was Jim Kelly, (not our Jim, but a Lincoln saloon keeper arranging to start a branch at School Creek,) and W. A. Way - "Billy" - who I think is still living at Lincoln, and who homesteaded the eigthy (sic) on which part of Sutton now stands and afterwards run a hardware store there.

     Arriving at the Woodard home we found the "Boss" away locating land seekers but were told that Charley Boyce, who was the original homesteader of the farm now owned by Geo. Craven, might get us through and from the Woodard house we wended our way to his shack and were driven to School Creek, following the railroad grade and camps pretty closely.

     The Nebraska of 1871 hardly looks like that of 1914. If one could have stood on a little elevation, say like Cemetery Hill, he would only see a broad expanse, over which for unrecorded centuries the shadows had chased

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