Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1889-08-22
THE OLD SETTLERS YARN
Why Bill Fiddler Missed the Stone FrOlic
planned by an Indian Story.


Why Bill Fiddler Missed the Stone FrOlic Ex-
planned by an Indian Story.
81 didn't see Bill Fiddler down to Bing
muster's stun frolic t'other day, Major"
with him."
"Too much bush," replied the old set
tier.
"Huh2" exclaimed the Squire, the Old
Settlers reply having oeen unintelligible
to him.
"Too much bush," the Old Settler re-
peeted.
"Oh-h-hl" calculated the Squire. "rm
'bleeged to ye fer tellin' me, an know
Jest ez much 'boui 1t now ez J did afore."
"That's cause ye want born an riz in
Sugar Swamp deestric'," said the Old Set
tier. "That were unfortn'nit for ye,
Squire, but o. course L hain't to blame
for it. If yer ANCESTORS had only settled
down onter the teemin' side o. Sugar
Swamp, std o. squattin' 'mOngst the stun
an scrub oaks o. Blarin' Ridge, y'd ha'
had chance to see things an to Parn
things that'd be a comfort an a blessin'
to We now, an wouldn't be obleeged to
think way back inter Ingin hist'ry to git
much bush STAINS fer. I"
aye needn'd think beckp' exclaimed the
Squire. ''Bil Fiddler want to Bing
MINISTER'S stun frol:c. an / missed him,
but if you've got TO go way back an fish
up chapter in the hist'ry o. the Injins
o. this kentry to tell me wy Bill WANT to
the stun frolic, III 'scuse ye! L don't
keer durn bout KNOWN anyhow, an
3@ otr
williu'er be iguer'nt."
Course We wouldr' said the Old Set
tier. "That's the b. arin' Ridge of it!
But s'posin' ye want to live an die In
igner'nceP S'posin' ye don't want me to
strain my mem'ryY Who be yen? An
who be II We hain't the unly folks ez is
livin', nor we hain't the unly folks ez is
gointer be livin'. 'Thuz setch a. thing
ez childurn an childurn's childurn, haln't
thu Wat we goin' ter do with them
Mebbe yeu don't keer to know wat too
much bush STAINS Ter sn' mebbe it's goin'
ter be strain on me if L post ye on it.
But s'pose our childurn's childurn raises
up an asts, Whats too much bush? Who's
agoin' ter tell 'emf Nobody, b'gosh, if
folks was all like you, an was willin' to
be igner'ntI An they'd hef to grow up
an and pass away 'thoat KNOWN no more
bout il thin the present gin ration knows
'beut the man ez struck Billy Peterson.
But our childurn an our childurn's child
urn hain't agointer grow an pass away in
igner'noe, ez lopg ez thur spark o. the
oil Sugar Swamp sparrit thioklin' o. my
veins! 1t haInt no easy job fer me to
throw my mem'ry back a hundred years
an better, Squire, that's SO; an I'm BILE
eyed to ye fer not wantin' me to strain IL.
But carnations yit comm mus be
looked after, an wen duty calls me I'll
foller, if / hef to put my mem'ry t'gether
like Tinted fish-pole, b'gosh' an throw
it back to Noar's arkr'
"Ah, ye KID do it, tool" exclaimed the
Squire.
"Wuther could or not hain't nuther
here nor thar" said the Old Settler. "But
/ kin member wat too much bush STAINS
fer, ez it were handed down to me
straight ez ash sapplln's, an which is q
part o. the hist'ry o. Sugar Swamp, ez i
hain't agointer let run out. lifts gointer
Spite yer record fer igner'Dce, Squire,
it's gittin' long to'ards yer bed time, any
how, an ye mowt treat yerself an run
hum"
1.-TWO words fer yerself an fer me-
Major" said the Squire. "But 1 hain't
takin' no hints this evenin'. An now, ez
to Bill Fiddler not bein' to the stun
frolic. S'pose ye GO on an tell how il
were. 1 kin stan it if yer mem'ry kim"
9Th want no Injins ever lived roun
Blarin' Ridge" the Old Settler began, "fel
il were a leetle too wuthless a neighbor
hood for ever Injins to banker after. But
wen the fust wife folks began to make
clearin's 10 the Sugar Swamp deestric'
they foun' that kentry just more'n G
fav'rit campin' groun' and huntin' groun
fer leetIe the highest-up tribe o. REQ
men th't ever riZ corn an hair. My
great-gran'pap were bout one o. the
fust wife folks ez stumbled onter them
air lnjuns. He got poplar with 'em I'm
the start in, an the Inj iLs tuck setch an
uncommon fancy to him an his family
th't they pitched in an helped 'em &c
make their clesrin' an to plant Their
corn an dig their Eaters an setch, sum-
pin ruther curious fer wild an ycopin
Iniins to do, an showen', lost an be-
nighted beatbens ez they was, thu they
knowee gentleman, b'gosh, wen the!
seed one. My great-gran'paR mus
ha' be- poplar Teller citizen till the da!
o. his death, fer wen he were tuck sicl
his las time, folks usety send in FIN ter
miles aroun' tellin' his family to be sur,
an SEN word wen the OF mans funer'
were gointer be, ez they'd be glad to come
an wen the funer1 kim off, folks did
come FIN all over, an the sorrer were 81
deep an ginerI th't my grest-gran'papi
Teller citizens was q day an nigh
drownin' of it at Jonas Billduck's tavern
Poo OF Pete Grum drownded hisn't 8,
much th't ez he were goin' hum he feI
inter Biler's Run an drownded hisself.
"Ez civilization KEEP sweepin' intel
Sugar Swamp, three an for acres at
sweep, an the settlers got TO objectin' Il
handin' over their scalps to the noble re,
men, an smeilin' o one another ez tn
chiidurn O. the forest staked an br'ile,
'em durin' some o their merry COINS on
the Injins begun TO see th't it want mucl
uset for their hangin' round thur n,
longer, an they KEEP q turnin' their heel
to the scenes of their youth, an thei
noses to the settin' sun, till at last til
WANT but few on 'em left. 1t usety b
tetchin' sight, Squire, ez I've heard m
uran'pap say, TO see them Injins wer
about to dig out FIN Sugar Swamp, foe
to my great gran pap's clearin' to bid hin
goodbye. The strappin' big six-foo
war-hoopers d grab my great gran'pa
by the ham, an ez the tears d roll dow
their cheeks, maxim streaks IN thel
paint like fish worms crewiin' ever we
clay bank, they'd say:
'Tain't cause we'm shinnin' ava! fl
whar we was born and riz,' they'd SO,
'th'twe'm feelin' so durn bad, but 'caus
We wunt see you no more. OP-mar
Observation-Disclosures they'd say. Blu
b'gosh, they'd say, IF ye want US sem fe