e was primitive in all the homes of the coulee. Money was hard to
get. We always had plenty to eat, but little in the way of luxuries. We
had few toys except those we fashioned for ourselves, and our garments
were mostly home-made. I have heard my father say, "Belle could go to
town with me, buy the calico for a dress and be wearing it for
supper"--but I fear that even this did not happen very often. Her "dress
up" gowns, according to certain precious old tintypes, indicate that
clothing was for her only a sort of uniform,--and yet I will not say
this made her unhappy. Her face was always smiling. She knit all our
socks, made all our shirts and suits. She even carded and spun wool, in
addition to her housekeeping, and found time to help on our kites and
bows and arrows.

* * * * *

Month by month the universe in which I lived lightened and widened. In
my visits to Onalaska, I discovered the great Mississippi River, and the
Minnesota Bluffs. The light of knowledge grew stronger. I began to
perceive forms and faces which had been hidden in the dusk of babyhood.
I heard more and more of LaCrosse, and out of the mist filled lower
valley the booming roar of steamboats suggested to me distant countries
and the sea.

My father believed in service. At seven years of age, I had regular
duties. I brought firewood to the kitchen and broke nubbins for the
calves and shelled corn for the chickens. I have a dim memory of helping
him (and grandfather) split oak-blocks into rafting pins in the kitchen.
This seems incredible to me now, and yet it must have been so. In summer
Harriet and I drove the cows to pasture, and carried "switchel" to the
men in the hay-fields by means of a jug hung in the middle of a long
stick.

Haying was a delightful season to us, for the scythes of the men
occasionally tossed up clusters of beautiful strawberries, which we
joyfully gathered. I remember with especial pleasure the delicious
shortcakes which my mother made of the wild fruit which we picked in the
warm odorous grass along the edge of the meadow.

Harvest time also brought a pleasing excitement (something unwonted,
something like entertaining visitors) which compensated for the extra
work demanded of us. The neighbors usually came in to help and life was
a feast.

There was, however, an ever-present menace in our lives, the snake!
During mid-summer months blue racers and rattlesnakes swarmed and the
terror of