Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1921-10-28

ear Old-blue eyeS-helpS ner mOth-
er get tired every day. Here's my
toy man Josiah-yes, brown hair and
brown eyes like Sarah-heart O. gold
helps his mother, too-six times
one year old"
"What pretty faces! !" said the wo-
man as she stopped and kissed them.
Eyes, ma'am. Got 'em from the
fairies" Samson went on. "They
have all kinds O. heads for little folks,
an 1 guess they color EN- up with the
blood o. roses an the gold o. butter
cup an the blue o. violets. Here's
this wife O. mine. She's richer'n /
am. She owns all of US. We're her
slaves"
Looks as young as she did the day
she was married-nine years ago."
said the woman.
Exactly" Samson exclaimed.
straight as an arrow and proud! /
don't blame her. She's got enough
to make her proud, 1 say. 1 fall In
love again every time 1 look into her
big, brown eyes,"
They had a joyous evening and a
restful night with these old friends
and resumed their Journey soon after
daylight. They ferried across the
lake at Burlington and Jared away
yer the mountains and through the
deep forest on the Chateaugay trail.
Since the Pilgrims landed between
the measurelesS waters and the path
less wilderness they and their des-
cendants had been surrounded by the
lure Of mystery. The love of adven-
ture, the desire to explore the dark.
infested and beautiful forest, the
dream of fruitful sunny lands cut
with water courses, shored with sill
e and strewn with gold beyond it
these were the only heritage of their
son and daughters save the strength
and courage of the pioneer. How true
was this dream of theirs gathering
detail and allurement as 1t passed
from sire to son. On distant plains
to the west were lands more lovely
and fruitful than any of their vision;
in mountains far beyond was gold
enough to gid the dome of the heav-
ems, as the sun was wont to do at
eventide, and silver enough to put a
fairly respectable moon in It. Yet for
generations their eyes were not to see,
their hands were not to touch. these
things. They were only to push their
frontier a little farther to the west
and hold the dream and pass it on
to their children.
Those early years Of the Nineteenth
century held the first days of full
firlment. Samson and Sarah Traylor
had the old dream in their hearts
when they first turned their faces to
the west For years Sarah had re-
sisted it, thinking Of the hardships
and perils In the way Of the mover.
Samson, a man Of Twenty-Five when
he set out from his old home, was said
to be always chasing the bird in the
BUSH" He was never content with
the thing In hand. There were GER
tain of their friends who promised
to come and join them len, at last,
they should have found the land of
plenty. But most Of the group that
babe them good-by thought 1t a fool
ish enterprise and spoke lightly of
Samson when they were gone Amer
lea has u~ndervalued the brave souls
who went west in wagons, without
whose sublime courage and endurance
the plains would still be an unplowed
p1Id0rp0cC nffnn un hno~ fho,n cot
down as seedy, shiftless dreamers
who could not make a living at home.
They were mostly the best blood Of
the world and the noblest Of Gods
missionaries. Who does not honor
them above the thrifty, comfort-lov-
Ing men and women who preferred to
stay at home, where risks were few,
the supply of food sure and suffi-
cient and the consultations Of friend
ship and religion always at hand?
Samson and Sarah preferred to enlist
and take their places in the front
battle line Of Civilization.
They had read a little book called
The Country Of the Sangamon. The
latter was a word of the Pottawa-
tonnes meaning land of plenty. 1t was
the name of a river In Illinois drain
ing 'boundless. flowery meadows Of
~unexampled beauty and fertility, belt
ed with timber, blessed with shady
groves, covered with game and mostly
level, without a stick or a stone to
vex the plowman." Thither they
were bound, to take up a section Of
government land.
They stopped for a visit with Elisha
Howard and his wife, old friends Of
theirs, who lived in the village Of
Malone. which was in Franklin county.
New York. There they traded their
oxen for a team of horses. They
were large gray horses named Pete and
Colonel. The latter was fat and good
natured. His chief interest in life
was food. Pete was always LOOKING