five per cent a month. I really think he was in dead earnest,
especially in the per cent business. On this particular night he was on
his knees and was calling very loudly on the Lord, in his extremity, he
said, "Oh, Lord give us more interest in Heaven." The crowd was so great
they were in the door and at the windows. A wag, Al Stone, was among the
outside crowd, and heard this urgent appeal of old Squire Day, and he
cried out: "For God's sake, isn't five per cent enough?"

Among the enterprising men of the Falls was Z. E. B. Nash, or "Zeb" as
we called him. He operated a line of steamers from Fewer's Landing, on
the East Side above the present bridge, to St. Cloud. There were only
two small boats, but they served the purpose well.

[Illustration: MRS. MARGARET KING HERN (ST. PAUL)]

[Illustration: Medal presented to Margaret King Hern by the State in
1896. (See page 143.)]

[Illustration: Late type Red River Cart, taken in the Fifties. Earlier
Carts had tires eight inches wide. (See pages 14-22-218)]

Colonel Levi Longfellow--1851.

One day back in my old home in Machais, Maine, when I was six years old
and my sister Mary nine, my father said to her, "I will give you ten
cents for your little tin trunk." This trunk was one of her most
treasured possessions, and she asked him what he wanted it for. He
answered, "I am going to save money to take you all out to Minnesota and
I want the trunk to hold the pennies and dimes we shall save for that
purpose." She was so delighted with the idea that she readily gave up
the trunk and contributed a dime to start the famous fund. Many times we
emptied the contents of that little trunk and counted to see how much we
had, though we all knew that not more than one or two dimes had been
added since we last counted. It took us three long years to save enough
for the eventful trip. In those days, instead of a run of two or three
days, it took a month to make the journey.

One bright day in June, an ox team drove to our door and took us, a
family consisting of my father, mother, two boys and two girls with our
luggage to the Boston boat. From Boston, a train carried us to Albany,
New York, and from there by canal boat we went to Buffalo. Here we
boarded a lake steamer for Chicago. This place I remember as the
muddiest hole I had ever seen. A plank road led from the boat landing to
the hotel. One railroad ran west out of Chicago for a distance of about
ten miles. Beyond this lay