Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1919-12-30

the sheriff next morning. Dan over
took him and / CHANGED to be there and
heard the talk. heard Dan say, 81
will see John T. Adams (sheriff them
IS kept very busy tomorrow morning
until you get to town, come in early,
I'll have the money then, you can pay
me when You are able, / don't want
any note, and you need not pay any in
terest." The man told me afterwards
that Dan never dunned him, and he
never felt better paying any one than
he did Dan, and also that he would not
accept any interest when offered to
him, but said, II told you l would
charge none, and that settles it."
Again recall when bravado abus-
/ ed an old defenseless man for some
time. and was pulling off his coat to
strike him. Dan arose and said, "I'm
no fighting man, but il you pull off
that coat, you'll need help to put 1t on
again"
1 notice the names of those who fol-
lowed the body from Wausau to the
grave, I have seen them all, and /
thought ii the graves could give up
their dead, and all those who were
Subjected to his jokes, or recipients of
his Kindness from the source of the
Wisconsin. to the banks of the Color
ado, could follow the procession, the
mourners would reach from the cot
tage in Wausau, to the tomb in Mer-
rill.
saw him when his daughter died in
Jenny, and the funeral services were
in the school house on the hill. He
succeeded in holding back all emotion
al grief, until the casket was being
closed forever, and then, leaning over
her for the last time, .his body quiv-
cred with irrepressible grief, and /
knew great big kind heart-in an
informal exterior, was being convulsed
with pain,
| left Jenny years ago, and had not
seen Dan for forty years, but within
the last five years / returned to Wau-
sau the buss took me from the train,
and drove me to the Commercial, (the
old Winkley,) stopping on the very
spot where, nearly fifty years before,
Dan Scott was jerked from the stage
into the mud by Dan Kline unhitching
the tugs. / stepped from the buss, like
a shadow of the past searching for
objects which were there no more,
forever. Different faces were hurry
ing in and out, different voices echoed
from the corridor, all were apparently
strangers and |, a gray haired man,
alone among strangers, gazed wist-
fully and longingly, over the vortex
of existence into the mists of mem
ory, for fitting spirits of youthful joy,
where |. curly headed boy, looked
into joyous future, where ambitious
hopes painted bright reward.
| heard two men talking. and it
seemed like voice from the tomb of
ages. | turned quickly, and on the
bench sat two men, one old and
shrunken, holding In his hands a
crutch. l walked over and said, ''Dan
Kline, / have the advantage of you, /
know you, but you don't know me-"
He looked up at me and instantly re-
sponded. Il would know those eyes If
| saw them in heaven, it is forty years
since | last saw you and your name
is------ held out-my hand say
ing, you are the first to recognize
me so quickly in the state of Wiscon-
sim"
Sitting down beside him said, Dan
do you remember the first time / saw
you, nearly fifty years ago, right there,
when you dumped Dan Scott in the
mud by unhitching his tugs? the
streets were not paved then. He said.
Fifty years ago. fifty years. and
shook his head meditatively. and ex-
claimed, God what a world" The
expression on his face changed and
old, awoke an unutterable sentiment
within me, and leaning my face in my
hands, a queer silhouette of forest,
and plains, hills and streams, scorch-
ing winds and impenetrable billiards,
different tribes of men and different
kinds OF people. wavered and vanished
and reappeared in hazy mists of men,
ory, with faces of loved ones. and faces
of friends, al, coming led with joy
and sorrow, hope and despair, success
and failure. peace and strife, death
and danger, wayering and fiuttering
away Dack behind a shadowy, faded,
transparent curtain, yellowed by time
and memory and / reiterated, "Yes.
Dan. God, what a world"
We got horse and buggy and rode
around town and sought old familiar
objects and then he said. eff you want
to visit old friends. I will take Won to
the grave yard, they are all there ex-
lcept very few"
He told me about his early life in
boyhood, how he and Hank Kyes of
Merrill. had hunted and trapped on the
upper Wisconsin. over sixty years be :
fore. even before Eft Space carried
mail on horse hack from Wausau to
Jenny, before Ringle published the
Wisconsin River Pilot; before any
white man camped alone north Of
Grandfather Falls. except Scotch Bob.
How ne and Hank carried their furs
By canoe down the Wisconsin. aud