Twice-a-week plain dealer. (Cresco, Howard County, Iowa) 1895-1913, 1905-05-12

rs HE lone pine stood in Brewers
pasture, Just clear Of the
ESSsSSI woods. When the sun rose
y one could see its taper shad-
ow stretching away to the foot of
Woody ledge, and at sunset it lay like
q fallen mast athwart the COW paths,
Its long top arm a flying pennant on
the side Of Bowman's hill In summer
this bar Of shadow moved like clock
hand on the green dial Of the pasture.
and the help could tell the time by the
slant Of 1t. Lone pine had mighty
Rirth at the bottom, and its bare body
tapered into the sky as straight as an
arrow. Uncle Eb used to say that
Its one long, naked branch that swung
and creaked near the top Of 1t, like O
sign OF hospitality on the highway Of
the birds, was 200 feet above ground.
There were few stubs here and there
upon it's shatt-ths roost Of crows and
owls and hen hawks. It must have
passed for a low resort in the feathered
kingdom because It was only the rob-
bers of the sky that halted on lone
pine.
This towering shaft Of dead timber
commemoratsd the ancient forest
through which the northern Yankees
cut their trails in the beginning Of the
century. They were a tall, big listed,
brawny lot Of men who came across
the Adirondacks from Vermont and be-
gan to break the green canopy that for
ages had covered the valley of the st.
Lawrence. Generally they drove cow
with them, and such game as they
could kill on the Journey supplemented
their diet Of pudding and milk" Some
settled where the wagon broke or
where they had buried member Of the
family, and there they cleared the for
ests that once covered the smooth acres
Of today.
Gradually the rough surface Of the
trail grew smoother until 1t became
Paradise road, the well worn thorough
fare Of the stagecoach, with its "inns
and OUTS" as the drivers used to say,
the inns where the "men folks" sat In
the nrelight Of the blazing logs after
supper and told tales Of adventure until
bedtime, while the women sat with
their knitting in the parlor and the
young men wrestled in the stable yard.
The men Of middle age had stopped and
massive shoulders and deep furrowed
| brows. Tell one Of them he was grow
ing old, and he might answer you by
holding his whip In front Of him and
lsaping over It between his hands
There was q little clearing around
that big pine tree when David Brewer
settled in the valley. Its shadows,
shifting in the light Of sun and moon
like the arm Of compass, swept the
| spreading acres Of his farm. and he
built his house some forty rods from
| the foot Of 1t on higher ground. David
was the oldest Of thirteen children.
His father had died the year before he
! came to St. Lawrence county. leaving
him nothing but heavy responsibilities
Fortunately his great strength and his
kindly nature were equal to the burden
Mother and children were landed safe.
| ~ in their new home on Bowman's hill
the day that David was eighteen.
i I have heard the old folks Of that
country tell what splendid figure Of
man he was those days-six feet one
in his stockings and broad at the shout.
der. His eyes were gray and set un'
der heavy brows. I have never forgot
ten the big man that laid hold Of me
and the broad, clean shaven. serious
face that looked into mine the day
came to Paradise valley. As write
I can see plainly his dimpled chin, bis
large nose, his Arm mouth that was
the key to his character. "Open OF
shet," have heard the old folks say
ut showed he was no fool"
1 After two years David took wife
and settled in Paradise valley. BE
prospered IN small way considered
handsome thereabouts. In few years
he had cleared the rich acres Of hi.
farm 70 the sugar bush that was thu
| north vestibule Of the big forest. al
had seen the clearing widen until h
could discern the bare submits Of tn,
distant hills and tsr @ hs could se,
11n9 u tas4 NAitS ADVlos st. the sat