The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-06-21
C~LAYP0OL'S WOODS.

without one grain of masculine intellect in the
crowd. 1t is a singular idiosyncrasy of all
women to resent being told that they cannot do
certain things in general or any one thing in
particular; and any woman who is a fair sample
of her sex is always ready to under
take that which she has been told
she is not capable of accomplishing.
To this laudable feminine popularity the world
is indebted for much that is great and good,
which it is not necessary to give in detail; to it,
also, the world may attribute the glorious dis
covery of Claypool's woods. The paper on Lost
Places" as read by DR.. Brayton before the Ply
mouth Church Social Club, announced the I'M
fndableness of Claypoolis woods. This reused
the antagonism of oppressed w~omanhood, and
we determined. singly and collectively, that find
those woods we would, if we had to sand-bag a
Claypool and make him tell us where he kept
them. Such an extreme and hazardous measure,
however, we postponed until every other peace
able means of discovery had failed us; we talked
the matter over often; we asked everybody we
knew if they knew where these tabled woods
were. but, as usual, they knew not.
Finally, one perfect June day, as lovely as if it
had been made to order, the party of discoveries
set sail; one vehicle, four women, a reluctant
horse, a lame dog, a pair of mems rubber boots.
and a lunch basket; also some trowels and
baskets to dig the woods up with and carry them
home in. The first stroke we made unearthed
Fletchers swamp; it was a swamp, and we knew
by its genial expression that it was a Fletcher.
Then we asked a colored woman, aged thirty
two, with seven small children in various stages
of dissolution clustered about her, and she said
it was, and that settled it. One of us sat in the
vehicle and held the re luctant horse, which was
as eager to go when you wanted her to stand
still as she was eager to stand still when you
wanted her to go. Another of us put on the
mems rubber boots, and prepared to ''shulnp'
into the swamp, while the other two struck pic
turesque attitudes in the mud and laughed.
Fletchers swamp is a success as a swamp, and
no mistake. There is an air of completeness
attending it which is wholly Fletcheristic. as If
it knew it was a swamp and was determined,
while it was at it, to be a good one. We got
good many things out of this valuable swamp,
and would have more. but our minds were dis
tracted by the dazzling vision of Caypools
woods, which, the multitudinous colored family
had assured us, was just up the road" Oh, the
aggravating far-offness of the many, many
things in life which we are told,
and which we believe, to be 'just up
the road' There is no end of cat
tail probabilities in Fletcher's swamp, and
if ~cat-tails are not ont of style by fall, we pro-
pose to go again and get some. 1t is not pro-
posed to give . detailed list of the botanical de-
lightsomeness of Fletcher's swamp; those who
have been there know it by heart, and those
who have not wouldn't understand it if we did;
besides that, candor compells US to confess that
our scientific knowledge of wood and swamp lore
is infinitesimal, and we don't propose to tell all
we don't know as well as all we know. Ho for
Claypools woods We piled in the baskets and
the same dog. pulled the girl in the rubber boots
out of the fond embrace of Fletchers swamp,
and, pounding the reluctant horse with the whip
and both trowels, again set sail, this time surely
to the dim, bewildering vision of Claypool's
woods, ''iust up the road As usual,
when WI reached the point indicated after rein
forced advice solicited from a colored man on a
swill and one colored woman ''shooing'
hens out of a garden, we found ourselves still
distant from the Mecca of our aspirations. We
found, indeed, a Claypools woods, but it was a
pasture grove, not the unbroken primeval forest
of our dreams. A gentlemanly plowman took
time to sit on the fence and chew straw and
talk to us aboutit. He gave US the family tree
of the tribe of Claypool to go by, and assured us
that there were indeed a Claypcol woods, but
not the Claypools woods; he invited us to enter,
however, and make ourselves free of the prem
Uses Not so; we were bound for the Claypools
woods, if we had to chase a Clay
pool clear to Connersviile to get
them. So we turned thu reluctant horses
head in the direction given by the gentlemanly
plowman and logged merrily on; we went
again, then south again, all according to Hoyle.
We found a gate. which was supposed to lead
into the woods of promise; but the small colored
boy who guarded it said we would have to ask
kIdAQpdp. NIhl pap aPptdLCds anu hiO
edged these to be the very identical woods that
we were searching for, but further declared that
the man that owned them ''rared up" and said
nobody shouldn't go in there no more We
brought all our guns to bear on him; the good
looking ones smiled at him; the one with the
rubber boots on took out her pocket-book, and
the one with spectacles on said WI would hitch
the horse outside and just walk in and
look around a little; that we wouldn't
leave any bars down, or carry off any
tim her or otherwise misconduct ourselves. so
the poor old fellow, as usual where man is pitted
against woman, had to succumb, the horse was
tethered meath an oak tree, outrageous of
course, and we stepped reverentially in the
dim, cathedral aisles of Claypools woods. AS
primeval woods, they are indeed, a success, a
credit to the name of Claypool; as a fern haunt,
however, they are a complete failure, and the
object of this letter is to call DIR. Brayton to
task for foisting upon the public, as sample
woods, an article so deficient in this respect. We
found a few scraggly maiden hairs" a few
weakly specimens of another variety, and that
was all. These alone being the object of our
mania for a woods-trip, the secretary of the
party, the specialized one, was ordered
by the president, the one in rubber
boots, to chronicle a heartfelt and poignant
disappointment, while the goodlooking ones
uttered soul-piercing shrieks and mournful
groans of disapproval directed toward Claypool.
his woods, DR.. Brayton and his paper on Lost
Places" The woods are not to be condemned
in toto, however, as in other respects they are
fully up to all the descriptions in the big posters,
the wind in the ~tree-tops alone being worth the
whole price of admission. We crashed around
in the thick underbrush all we wanted to, led
by the girl in rubber boots; let not future visit
ors to Claypool's woods, pondering the traces of
her fairy footsteps, write her down a megath-
eroid. As the setting sun showed traces of get
ting ready to gid the Western hill, we emerged
from Claypools woods, slowed away the empty
fern baskets, whistled up the lame dog,
gave the fat colored woman all
our bananas for keeping an eye on
the reluctant horse, boarded the vehicle, and
back tears of bitter disappointment, and filling
our aching voids with gingerbread and cheese.
The object of this elaborate discourse is to prove
to DIR. Brayton that we have found Fletcher's
swamp and tracked Claypoors wood to its hid
den lair. Sc far, the secret is locked in pro
foundest mystery; but unless he tells us, and that
speedily, the whereabouts of a fern plantation.
whittier we may wend and salve our wounded