Annals of our ancestors; one hundred and fifty years of history in the ...

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ANNALS OF OUR ANCESTORS
to be shipped outside of Minnesota, and so it came to pass
that Santa Claus disappeared from his booth in the markethouse
of Cincinnati.
We found many natural resources in our new home; the
tamarack swamps gave firewood and paHngs for fences; the
marsh lands yielded hay; the land was good. The breaking of
the sod without further cultivation gave a good crop of potatoes,
turnips, and white beans the first season. Mr. Stanley was an
excellent host and took delight in showing ofF the new country.
He took William and Alvah out to look at lands to suit them,
which resulted in our renting a farm with a good two-story log
house, a team, and farming implements. Brother William
also rented a tract of land with a house upon it, which he called
the "Shadow Place," as he said that upon examining the title
he found it had but the shadow of one! This name finally degenerated
into "The Shad." The place was then vacant, the man
being in the army and his wife at home with her mother. As
the place we had rented would not be vacant until spring, we
all moved into the Shadow Place as soon as arrangements could
be made.
Mr. Stanley did hauling between St. Cloud and St. Paul,
and passed near St. Francis on his route up the river, so he
agreed to bring our goods up for us. We had returned to pack
up and have our goods at the crossroads about four miles from
St. Francis, where Mr. Stanley could load them on without
going out of his way. This plan of ours, however, was frustrated,
and so Mr. Stanley drove clear to our door, where he
found us ready to move and very thankful to him for being
better than his bargain. We all started early in the morning.
Our things were packed in two wagons; we had some chickens,
a pig, a new stove, two bedsteads, and some chairs.
We had picked up a poor homeless boy who had lost his
mother and his father had married again, so he had come out
with his sister from near Boston to find a home in the new
country. Amos was a live Yankee, who was efiicient and as
tough as a pine knot, inured to hardship, and needing a home,
so it seemed wise to take him into our home; he was the forerunner
of others who have shared our abode as one of the