wilderness. On the same ship with them came many other young people from Knockahollet. All of them, except Uncle Elison Lynn, remained in New York State, where the good wages offered by the railroads and mills enabled them to lay by the price of a farm. Elison accompanied his brother to Wisconsin, where he found work on a farm near Mineral Point.

These Scotch-Irish were industrious and thrifty and it was not long as time was reckoned in those days—perhaps a year or two-before many of them had saved the fifty dollars necessary to pay for forty acres of Wisconsin government land.

My parents, Joseph and Mary Lynn Moor (or "Moore," as our name was written in the new world) arrived in Wisconsin early in the spring of 1851. I was then eight years old and my sister Nancy (Mrs. Thomas B. Richards, of Belleville, Wisconsin) was two. My mother's parents, James and Nancy Ellis Lynn, and my father's only brother, William, accompanied us to Exeter.

Before we left York State Uncle Robert Lynn, who was unmarried and working in a paper mill, told mother to write him if she needed money and he would help her out; but she never had to call on him for help. With fifty dollars out of their scant store my parents purchased forty acres southeast of John's farm. That, with other forties added from time to time, has been the home of the Moores ever since. My youngest brother, Joseph Leslie, still lives in the old house which Uncle Elison started to build in the early fifties.

The Swiss settlement of New Glarus lay five miles beyond the wooded hills to the northwest. The old mining town of Exeter, three miles to the southeast, was the most pretentious village, but it was beginning to run down at the heels, since the mining industry had practically ceased and the clearing of the ground for farms had only just begun. There was no post office at Exeter, but mail reached us through Joe Brayton, the hotel keeper, or -Witter, the proprietor of the only general store.

James Hare was living on his forty-acre farm about half a mile southwest of us, and Jeremiah Avery was his neighbor about a half-mile farther on. Across the river, half a mile from the Hare cabin, lived Kesler. The Matthew Edgar farm lay off to the south, with the "Jimmy" Gaines farm joining it on the east.

Speculators were fast buying up the unoccupied land. In 1859, when Samuel Patterson and his wife Sally Wallace with their eight children arrived, they had to buy from Ira Baxter. The price of land had advanced from three dollars to six dollars per acre. The Pattersons were the last of that early group of relatives to come from the old country. Samuel Wallace became the eponym of the school district. Of his large family, six boys and two of their sisters owned farms in "Irish Hollow," as that section of Exeter was called. Of Grandfather Lynn's family, five boys and their two sisters were established there. All of these except Samuel Wallace, Jr., who returned to New York, and Elison Lynn made permanent homes on their farms.

Alexander Wallace and his wife Nancy Lynn, my mother's only sister, with their two little girls, Mary and Anna, came from New York in 1852 and settled just east of us. His father soon followed. "Grandpa," as everybody called the old gentleman, was a Covenanter in belief. Duty was the first law of his household. He was a zealous reader, the Bible and a Covenanter magazine being his favorite volumes. Blessed with a retentive memory, he had committed much of the Bible. His wife, Ann Bailey, was counted by those who knew her best a spoiled, pretty little woman. With them lived their youngest daughter, Ann Jane, who soon married Matthew Edgar, and William, their youngest child, who later became my husband.

"Grandpa" bought the old Sabin Morley place, between the Hare and Avery farms; but being a Covenanter, he could not take an oath and so could not become a citizen of the United States. In some way he had conceived the idea that a foreigner could not legally hold property in this country. He proposed to take no chances with the title to his farm, so he had the deed executed in the names of his sons James and John. John never came from New York to live in Wisconsin, although he furnished money and joined with James in the purchase of the farm just south of their father's place.

William bought the eighty acres lying across the marsh south of us. When in 1864 he enlisted in the army, James and his wife, Eliza Annett, came out from York State and took over the management of the three farms and the care of the old folks. William

had been paying the taxes on all of them; this expense with the continuance of the war became quite a burden, especially since there was so little of the land yet cleared for cultivation.

Eliza Annett Wallace was one of four orphan children who had been left to the care of their relatives in Ireland. She and her brother Willie had been brought across the ocean when very young, while the two other brothers had been left in Ireland. Willie was several years younger than his sister, and after her marriage made his home with her. They entirely lost track of the brothers; in fact, they could not remember that they had any near relatives, and it was long after Eliza's death that Willie bethought himself and wrote to the clerk of the parish in Ireland where he remembered he had been baptized. In this way he was able to locate one of his brothers, an old lake captain then living in Michigan.

Robert Wallace and his wife, Margaret Stinson, bought a farm joining the "Jimmy" Gaines place. Margaret was a woman of fine sensibilities and a beautiful singer. My father had known her father in Ireland and she used to enjoy visiting in our home. She would sometimes bring Robert over there, where he would be free from temptation while he was sobering up from a "spree." Robert was the only man in the "clan" who let the liquor habit get the better of him.

Thomas Wallace at first bought eighty acres up in the hills to the east. It is now part of the farm of his grandson, Roy Staley. Thomas, like many others, found difficulty in getting water on that eighty, so he soon bought and moved down between William and his father. There was something strange about the underground veins of water in those limestone hills. Some of the farmers struck water without any difficulty, while others, on a lower level, would dig many wells and finally give up and carry water from the springs or go to some place where there was a well. In some places there seemed to be underground reservoirs of water instead of running streams. Springs might gush forth in any ditch or mineral hole; and again a man might dig several wells on a farm and get no water. Perhaps it was the lack of money to pay for a drilling machine that made them dig all wells by hand. I do not know about that, but I do know

that money was very scarce and hard to get in those antebellum days.

Uncle James Lynn and his wife, Nancy Moore (no relative of my father) bought the Kesler farm. One day in late summer I went with Aunt Nancy to gather cranberries in the marsh not far from their house. I pulled up some of the plants which I carried home and reset in our marsh. They took root but did not thrive in the higher, more sandy soil as they did in the black muck of the river bottom.

Aunt Nancy was counted a capable woman with a strong character. She certainly had a will of her own and a great deal of pride, which served her well when she was left a widow in 1866 with five little boys and two girls, on a heavily mortgaged farm out there in those woods. Uncle James had driven to Monroe, fifteen miles distant, to get oak planks from which he and William were to make the beams for a long sleigh the next day. They had arranged it all the day before, when Uncle stopped at our house on his way home from Exeter, where he had bought the long oak runners. A Swiss farmer found his lifeless body lying in the "Monticello woods." His team and wagon, on which were the oak planks, were standing in the brush some distance off. There was a small hole in his forehead from which the blood oozed. He had been a quiet, sober man. His purse remained untouched in his pocket, and although the citizens investigated as best they could, no solution of the accident was ever arrived at. Aunt Nancy remained on the farm, educated her children, and laid by a competence for her old age. George is a prominent lawyer in Lynnton, South Dakota; John is at the head of the accounting department of the city light and water plant of Tacoma, Washington; Leslie owns a large ranch in the Northwest; James lives in Kansas. The other members of the family have passed on after living useful Christian lives.

Uncle Robert Lynn and his wife, Catherine Lyons, bought the "Jimmy" Gaines farm. Uncle Elison Lynn bought the forty acres just west of us and brought his bride, Rosa Scott, from Charles City, Iowa, to live in the house he was building about 1854. He soon sold out to father and took his family back to Charles City, where he was killed in less than a year by a drag

falling on him when he was unloading it from a wagon. He left two little boys-Josiah and Elison. Father borrowed $200 from Ottis Ross of Dayton at twenty per cent interest to help pay Elison for the farm. In two years father had cleared off the debt. William and I built our house on his eighty acres and began housekeeping in 1865 after he had returned from the war.

Mr. and Mrs. Hare were especially good neighbors, and having no family of their own-their two children having died in infancy-they could easily "pick up and go visitin'" of an afternoon or evening. I recall one winter evening when they walked in on mother, carrying a carefully wrapped bundle. I thought at first that it was a baby and wondered where they had got it. It proved to be two small loaves of bread in a tin pan, which were put to bake in mother's oven while they visited.

That was the evening father asked Mr. Hare the meaning of the term "Yankee."

"Who are the Yankees?" asked father.

"Well," answered Mr. Hare, "when you see a fellow who is always playing jokes and telling lies, he is a Yankee."

Then they both laughed, but it was several years before I understood what they meant.

Mrs. Hare, like many another pioneer woman, had formed the habit of smoking before her first child was born. Chewing or smoking tobacco was frequently recommended in those days as a cure for indigestion, irrespective of the cause. She considered it an unladylike habit and said she often prayed for strength to overcome it. Her prayer was answered by a long siege of sickness. For weeks and weeks she lay in a delirium of fever. When she recovered, the appetite for tobacco was gone and she never again took to the pipe.

After they had disposed of their farm and moved to Dayton, the Hares frequently came back to visit in the Hollow. I recall that Mrs. Hare was at my house for dinner the day in June, 1876, when William returned from Monticello with a weekly paper that contained an account of the Custer Indian massacre. Mr. Hare died and was buried at Charles City, Iowa, while there visiting a daughter by his first wife. After his death Mrs. Hare lived at