The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1898-11-14


Good day, Gabriel" he called in Svensk.
Good day, OLE" and a tall faxen-hair-
ed man came up TO the wagon.
How are your potatoes coming on?'
Fine" answered the farmer in fair En-
glish; about 800 to the acre."
Hard work."
The farmer shrugged his broad Shout
ders. At the lower end of the field, drawn
by two horses, rolled the potato digging
machine which looks like a harrow, and
left a double row of pink tubers in its
wake, which were being literally shoveled
into baskets - the farm hands. The
farm hands consisted of Mrs Gabrielson
and a string of little Gabrielsons of all
sizes. It pays to raise large families in
New Sweden. There would be very little
profit in farming, especially at this busy
season, if there were not plenty of children
to load the baskets in the potato fields. A
youngster can pick up as many potatoes
as a grown-up, and this is the great har-
vest among the Aroostook Swedes. But
it is hard work, and there is plenty of it,
They get up at in the morning; at
; they are at work, and they keep at it
until 1t is 600 dark TO distinguish a potato
from an earth ball. They only stop for
meals, of which they have four; breakfast
al 1870, lunch at II, dinner at and sup
per at g. At lights are out and the tired
laborers are enjoling a rest that the city
man reads about, but never experiences.
Preachers VINO Farm.
The First Lutheran Church is built on
the Landgrin farm. 1t is a plain, white
structure, bare and simple, quite differ
ent from the rather gaudy Baptist meet
ing house down the road, where we saw
the parson and his pretty wife in the fam
lily potato patch with their little ones,
harvesting their crop the same as the rest
he 10 Of
Sweden all combine farming with their
ministerial labors. Money goes a long way
in this faraway nook but even here $500
a year is not enough to rear and educate
a family, unless it is pieced out with some
kind of labor. The feature of the Luth-
eran, as of all the churches hereabouts
is the horse shed, large enough to shelter
a regiment of cavalry, and in which TIE
worshipers leave their teams during SER
vices. The Swede is a merciful man to
his beasts.
A Colony sorrow.
1--WE stop here" said Ole, and he turned
the team off to the side of the road.
Round the bend there came a process
sion. First there was a spring wagon, in
which lay a coffin, a plain pine coffin
whose single coat of white paint only en-
phasized its plainness. 1t was a home
made coffin On the front seat sat two
Ole, while one raised his hat to me.
when ar det?" asked Ole
carl Martenson," whispered one of the
men on the front seat
''Is that so?"
ole's informant nodded his head
gravely.
The dead man was a farmers son. The
parents and family mourners came after
the hearse in buggies and buckboards The
m x4y.A~ ha4f fa,s ~
did most every one else. as black is the
Sunday color in New Sweden clothing. The
only exception was the handsome Luth-
eran parson, who looked like Siegfried, so
yellow and bearded was he. He wore a
fashionable top coat, light brown and vel
vet colared. After the family came the
friends. 1t was a very long procession,
and 1t took fully quarter of an hour TO
pass, though the horses trotted brisk!y.
1t kept Ole busy holding his own risky
horses, who disliked standing still, and
keeping his hat raised in reply to the
greetings of his friends The men OF
New Sweden all know one another. but
not so well that they ever forget to be
polite. This kind of mountaineering is
confined to older and more civilized com
munities.
"A New York man owns that farm
house"
Old pointed out by far the prettiest and
tidiest farm house on the road. 1t is paint
ed red, and even the mammoth barns are
warm with color. 1t is the summer home
of j. b. Hallgrin, well-known caterer
of the metropolis. His story reads like a
romance. Here it is: He came TO New
York from Sweden a poor boy. and began
life as caterer. After he had become
well-to-do he met and married a young
Oh In fprt Kaxnv
New York. For a while they spent their
summers near New York, but the heart
of the New Sweden girl yearned for the
mis- and valleys of her home and at last
she persuaded her husband to come up
here and buy a farm He has been here
about twelve years, and has made almost
as much money out of his farm as his
business. His wife and the younger chill
dren live here all the year. but he ana
his eldest son, who is a rising vo,Ine
| dentist in New York, make the metrono
lis their winter home
AT the foot of the Hill there is saw
MILL deserted now while the mill hands
I help harvest, which is set In heavy
| hardwood thicket. A short ten feet away
| there is row of dead trees quarter Of
a mile wide and ten miles long. II Is the
| line OF the forest fire that nearly burned
the mill and threatened the best part OF
| the settlement 1t came three years ago
and the colonists worked for three DAYS
| to save the mill There were hundred OF
them, and they divided themselves into
| squads and worked increasingly drencbinp
the lumber pile with water from the
| spring.
| Colony Tragedy.
| over yonder is the tree where little
| Christine SYensson was found. said Ole
| Little Christine Svensson?"
Then the driver related the loss of A
| child from her fathers home the third
| year of the colony. She was Ia the swamp
| after water when a bear and her cub
| frightened the child. who left the path and
was lost. For three days she was sought
/ ana when she was found she was insane
through fright. The story was told by
! Founder Thomas at the quarter centen-
| NAL It is the only tragedy this peaceful
! colony has ever known. and Ole the driv-
! er, stops his horses for tourists before the
historic tree. From the Svensson tree the
| road back to Caribou takes in about ell
there is left 10 be seen. There are