Connecticut western news., 1922-02-16


 on that girls head-curly, fine gold, too-the best there is. She's Betsey- my little toy woman-half past seven years old-blue eyes-helps her moth CT 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. "Yes, ma'am. Got 'em from the fairies" Samson went on. "They have all kinds O heads for little folks, an guess they color lem up with the blood O roses an the gold O butter cups an the blue O violets. Here's this wife O mine. She's richer'n 1 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! I don't blame her. She's got enough to make her proud, I say. fall in love again every time look into her big, brown eyes,"
 They had a joyous evening and restful night with these old friends and resumed their journey soon after daylight. They ferried across the lake at Burlington and fared away over 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 sil- yer and strewn with gold beyond It. these were the only heritage of their sons 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 i; in mountains far beyond was gold enough to gild 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 little farther to the west and hold the dream and pass 1t on to their children.
 Those early years of the Nineteenth century held the first days of full ] fillment Samson and Sarah Traylor 1 had the old dream in their hearts when they first turned their faces to l 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-nine when f 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 cer- tain of their friends who promised | to come and join them when, at last, they should have found the land of plenty. But most of the group that bade them good-by thought it a fool ish enterprise and spoke lightly of Samson when they were gone. Amer lea has undervalued the brave souls who went west in wagons, without whose sublime courage and endurance the plains would still be an unplowed l wilderness. Often we hear them set down as seedy, shiftless dreamers who could not make 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 consolations of friend ship and religion always at handi Samson and Sarah preferred to enlist and take their places in the front battle line of Civilization.
 They had read little book called The Country of the Sangamon. The latter was 8 word of the Pottawa tomies meaning land of plenty. It was the name of river in Illinois drain ing "boundless, flowery meadows o1 unexampled beauty and fertility, belt ed with timber, blessed with shady groves, covered with game and mostly level, without stick or a stone tt vex the plowman." Thither they were bound, to take up a section o1 government land.
 They stopped for visit with Elisht Howard and his wife, old friends o+ theirs, who lived in the village O. Malone, which was in Franklin county New York. There they traded theil oxen for a team of horses. The! were large gray horses named Pete anC Colonel. The latter was fat and good natured. His chief interest in lift was food. Pete was always looking