HAVING rested a little season at home, I set out early in March upon the northern portion of the work, the preacher assigned to Omaha City having arrived and accompanying me. I was now mounted upon an Indian pony, painful for me to ride, but fully competent, it was supposed, for the fatigue and starvation of the trip.

     On this tour, for the first time, I found an open door in Leavenworth, and entered it by preaching in the bar-room of the hotel, on Saturday evening, from "The time is short." 1 Cor. vii, 29. Another presiding elder had preceded me but the evening before in the same place, and in stating his office and mission had particularly emphasized the word "South." This was manly. In making myself known with equal publicity, I pronounced with equal emphasis, "The Methodist Episcopal Church, without any increase or diminution to its name or character." So our stakes were fully set, and standards mutually reared in Leavenworth. Our quarterly meeting services were continued on the Sabbath.

     Crossing the Missouri River at Weston, we traveled up on the opposite side, and recrossed at Nebraska City. Considerable part of the way we had the company of a Mormon elder, a large, rough, sensual-looking man, of considerable general intelligence. He was traveling through the country, making arrangements for a large party of Spring emigrants to Salt Lake. We found him communicative and generally, ready to give a plain answer to our most pointed questions. He did not hesitate to avow the most shocking and impious

features of their system of doctrine and morals, but affected to throw over all the guise of sanctity.

     Reaching Nebraska City, we found that the preacher in charge had already gone forward to the place of the quarterly meeting which was to be held in the northern part of the mission, near the Great Platte. Fearing to lose our way and be too late, I hired a guide who, for a compensation, mounted a horse and piloted us through, arriving just in time to participate in the first services, already begun by the preacher. Our meeting was held at the cabin of a brother Morris, a venerable old pioneer, since removed to California. I preached on Sabbath from Isaiah liii, 1. We had a good meeting, and formed interesting acquaintances.

     Leaving early in the week, we pursued our course through stormy weather to Omaha, crossing and recrossing the Missouri to avoid the Great Platte. Omaha had been fixed as the capital of Nebraska Territory, and the Territorial Legislature was now holding its first session. This was a singularly-constituted body. The Territory had been laid oft into counties, and an apportionment of Representatives made by the Acting Governor. Some counties nominally represented were said not to have half a dozen settlers, and one or two, I think, not a single white inhabitant. The process was for a few men to go out just far enough to fancy themselves within the bounds of the county to be represented, open the polls, cast their ballots, elect one of their number, make out returns, certify them, and place him in the seat. A large number of the members were not even residents of the Territory, and never became such. My neighboring village of Glenwood, Iowa, furnished, I believe, four or five, and among them the President of the Council. They were a body of respectable appearance and good business capacity.

     The first executive officer appointed for Nebraska Territory was GOVERNOR BURT, from South Carolina. He died soon after arriving in the Territory, and the office devolved

upon HON. T. B. CUMING, the Secretary, by whom the organization was made and the Legislature convened. A newly-appointed Executive had just arrived in the person of GOVERNOR IZZARD, from Arkansas, an ex-Baptist preacher, an old State politician, of fine personal appearance, courteous manners, and agreeable social habits, who for years remained in office. The old Governor was, withal, extremely sensitive on one point; he was a decided Union-saver, and quite unwilling that the slavery question should be agitated under his administration. Of this I soon had proof.

     Our preaching was held in the State-House. We had a good attendance of willing listeners, and among them the Governor. In the course of my sermon I incidentally referred, among other signs of the times, to the project, just then beginning to he whispered in certain quarters, for the revival of the African slave-trade, characterizing it, as was my wont, with no very gentle epithets. The following morning I was introduced to his Excellency, who forthwith invited me aside for a private interview, and, in his ecclesiastico-political character, tendered a word of personal advice as to the propriety of refraining from exciting topics. The details I need not give. Suffice it that my claims of pulpit rights and duties did not fully accord with his admissions. Nor would he allow that the incipient Southern movement referred to was of sufficient magnitude to demand serious attention, while I held the contrary. Still we parted kindly. As the time of our next quarterly visit approached, a friend mentioned to the Governor that I was expected. "Ah!" said he, "I am afraid he will bring with him seven other devils worse than the first." Still I found him a regular and orderly hearer, and, bating a few slight skirmishes, our relations were agreeable to the expiration of his time.

      Some time elapsed before any permanent Church organization was effected in Omaha. Rev. Wm. D. Gage, of the Old Fort Kearney mission, was the first chaplain elected to the Legislature.

     A journey home followed, breaking my road, much of the way, through deep snow; then a little season of respite, during which occurred the memorable election of the 30th of March, 1855. The Territory was overrun by non-residents, the polls usurped, and many scenes of riot and violence transpired. I arrived at Leavenworth, our voting-place, some thirty miles distant from my residence, early upon election-day, and found some eight hundred non-resident voters upon the ground, mostly under arms. Threats had been made, accompanied, it was said, by preparations for violence during the night preceding. The free-state men were in a hopeless minority, greatly intimidated. One of them, a lawyer, took me by the arm, and tremblingly related the doings of the past night. They had determined to suppress their ticket, and abandon the field. Unwilling to lose our votes after so long a travel, I, with difficulty, obtained the names of the free-state nominees, and wrote out a supply of tickets for our company. My Wyandott friends desired me to lead them on. A struggle of half an hour was required to force my way through the crowd to the polls, and my vote was given. Close behind me was the persevering Split-the-logs, who deposited the first Wyandott ballot under the new treaty. The crowd continued to occupy the polls for some hours. At length, finding that the free-state party had retired from the field, their opponents affected great magnanimity, inviting the few still remaining up to the polls. But few free-state votes were polled, and among them were some fifteen Wyandotts of our company. On our way home we were notified by a drunken Wyandott, who seemed to be a spokesman for the ruffian gang, that we were to be put out of the Nation in three days; but threats were now becoming familiar.

     Early in April I started East to attend the sitting of the Western Book Committee. While in Cincinnati, information reached us of the acting of another scene in the Missouri-Kansas tragedy. The printing-office of Mr. Park, of Parkville, Missouri, just opposite the Wyandott lands, had

been assaulted. He was proprietor of the place, an old, wealthy, and respectable citizen, interested in Kansas, and understood to hold sentiments favorable to freedom in the Territory. His press had been thrown into the river, and himself compelled to flee under threats of personal violence. This was within a few miles of my residence. About this time, also, the famous "Platte County Resolutions" were passed against preachers of the Methodist Episcopal Church. The storm was gathering, but I was kept in peace.

     The comfort of our stay among the Wyandotts was greatly enhanced by the society and kind offices of Rev. John H. Dennis and his amiable family. He resided in the Nation by right, and I by courtesy. He lived on the mission farm, secured by treaty provision, and I in "my own hired house," about a mile distant, there being no provision for presiding elders. His health improved somewhat, and he undertook, in my absence, the superintendence of both farms, greatly to my relief. The earth produced plentifully, and our dearth gave way to abundant supplies of all things needful. Our orchard, too, yielded well, and, for the last time in our history, we knew the luxury of plenty of apples and peaches.

     Our Wyandott home in its Summer aspects was cheerful and pleasant. A district Indian school, under Government pay, was taught by a member of my own family, to which our juniors had access. True, our quarters were somewhat straitened for a numerous household; and the unplastered brick walls, under Indian neglect, had become tenanted by hosts of unwelcome lodgers; but then our "outdoors" was large, the grass-plat of our yard fine, and we had lost all our civilized horror of "open air."

      Our tent, in Summer-time, was stretched upon the bluegrass, forming an appendage to the domicile; beds were spread, and it became, to part of the family, a Summer dormitory. One night, while surrounded by a bevy of juniors, in profound repose, the darkening sky and rising wind gave indications of an approaching storm. A voice at my side

suggested the propriety of looking out at the signs. I arose and stood at the tent-door, rubbing my eyes, and trying to make up an opinion about probabilities. But our climate does not wait to deliberate long in getting up a storm. Just at that moment came a furious gust, with pelting rain; the stakes were uprooted, the tent capsized, and our entire squad routed from their quarters, unclad as they were, to seek a more durable shelter.

     I can not pass the name last referred to without further notice. REV. JOHN H. DENNIS was a native of Maryland. He had traveled about eleven years, laboring acceptably and usefully in station, circuit, and district work. He will long be remembered for the great personal courage exhibited in defense of the martyr Kelly from mob violence, and his subsequent efforts to bring the offenders to justice, which, however, failed through the violence of the times, and perverted official action of men in place. His health gave way on the Hannibal district, and relief was sought from change of climate and work, by an appointment to Delaware and Wyandott mission in Kansas. This failing, he resigned his charge, and returned with his family to his friends and former home in Indiana, where, on the 23d of August, 1856, his spirit sweetly passed away to the land of rest. The published memoir says, "Brother Dennis was a man of strong intellect, a sound divine, a bland, courteous, Christian gentleman, and an able minister of the Lord Jesus; in public labors firm, decided, and courageous; in the private relations mild, affectionate, and gentle; persevering and laborious through life, and triumphant over his latest foe."

     Kansas Territory had, among her early public functionaries, some men of intellect, courage, patriotism, and high moral worth, while there were others whose characters will not bear a very rigid scrutiny. The career of GOV. REEDER, the first executive officer, was unfortunate, and, by common consent, he is regarded as wanting in the great qualities requisite for emergencies such as surrounded him. A close
     29

observation of his public course from first to last, with a somewhat intimate, though brief, personal intercourse, has led me to a different conclusion. As a man of intellect, calm courage, legal and statesman-like acquirements, as well as moral and political integrity, I doubt if he has been equaled by any of his successors. But he was surrounded by furious and uncontrollable elements, then just bursting into action. He stood single-handed and alone. Scoffs, taunts, calumnies, not to say bullies, bludgeons, and revolvers surrounded him. "I had to arm myself," said he to me, "before delivering my veto message. That is," continued he, "to add to my ordinary preparations for defense." But the violence of the times overcame him. I am yet to see the first public act of his administration to which I could take material exception.

     An instance of his calm, dignified courage is recollected. His prudent, impartial course was such that, for a time, he was claimed by both parties, and disputes ran high as to the opinions and influence of the Governor. Though not participating in the noisy strife, still I could not but feel deeply interested in the movements of that critical period. In private conversation with the Governor, one day, in his own office, I expressed frankly our approbation of his course, adding, "We do not ask an expression of your private views on the controverted points; all we expect is an impartial discharge of official duty." Without the least hesitancy, he replied at once: "I have nothing to conceal in the matter; I am a free-state man." This was the first positive declaration of his position that I had known; and it was confirmed by every subsequent act.

     DR. CHARLES ROBINSON, better known as "Governor Robinson," was one of the early pioneers. I met him at my first quarterly meeting in Lawrence. He was emphatically a man for the times. His excellent sense, calm courage, and decided advocacy of freedom; with his prudent and timely counsels, always resorted to in a time of trial, made him a common center around whom to rally. His

name was a tower of strength. He has suffered loss of property, "imprisonment and bonds." He deserves well of the people of Kansas. May he yet live to reap, in better days, some of the rewards of his early hardships and sufferings!

     GEN. S. C. POMEROY was early in the field. Though mainly employed in business transactions, he always has been prominently identified with leading movements in the cause of freedom. A gentleman of liberal attainments in learning, good address, and excellent moral and religious character, his extensive influence has always been exerted in favor of every measure that looked to the real interests of Kansas, in every department.*

     Any notice of the men of Kansas at that period would be incomplete without the name of JOHN BROWN. His history is widely before the world, and every American reader has already fixed his estimate of the man. I only give the opinion then entertained of him by the people of the Territory, and the impression of my own mind from a very brief personal acquaintance. I may safely say that no man had the confidence of the freestate party in Kansas in a higher degree than John Brown. His integrity and cool bravery were by them favorably contrasted with the instability and recklessness of some of their prominent leaders. The same impression was made on my own mind.

     A tall, erect, gray-haired man; calm and dignified in his deportment; reserved, yet sufficiently free in conversation, devoid of all boasts or affected airs; inclined to religious conversation, and referring his own preservation to the care of Divine Providence. "They would have given something for your scalp," said I to him on meeting him soon after the affair at Black Jack. "Divine Providence has spared my life," said he. Nothing of the desperado appeared in his character.

     As the Summer approached, the mode of travel was changed. Saddle and saddle-bags, the emblems of old itinerancy, to which I still adhere in Winter, were substituted by buggy and harness, and the faithful saddle-steed became equally subservient in the draught. This afforded greater facilities for transportation, and the traveling establishment was enlarged accordingly. Blanket, satchel, small  trunk with wardrobe, and books and tracts for distribution, horse-bucket, picket rope, sack of corn for emergencies, monkey-wrench, hatchet, gimlet, nails and pocket compass, with the never-failing coffee-pot and camp cup, and a store of needful provisions, constituted the outfit. A fine melon, in season, for the nooning, was not a rare accompaniment. An occasional fellow-traveler or two were invited guests, who never failed to make ample returns in the shape of commendations of my culinary skill; especially in the article of coffee, the great sine qua non of travelers upon the frontier, and the Plains.

     At times, my cushions and blanket proved exceedingly convenient in furnishing a bed upon the "individual-responsibility system." One Summer night, driven from my little warm cabin quarters by the hostile demonstrations of officious fellow-lodgers, claiming a joint occupancy, I fled with my personal equipage to the "timber," laid me down at the root of a tree, and, despite the rattlesnakes, slept till early dawn; then returning to the house, the family still in their morning nap, I established a character for early rising; nor to this day do my kind hosts know but that I enjoyed, under their roof, a night of undisturbed repose.

     RETURNING from my Eastern trip, I was soon out again upon the labors of the district. The third quarterly meeting for Wakarusa mission was held in a grove upon the west side of the stream of the same name. The stream was swollen, and the attendance diminished; still the Sabbath brought a fair congregation. An incident occurred here that might have produced a sensation among a people more nervous or less used to excitements. In the midst of my sermon a rattlesnake made his appearance among the people with his usual demonstrations; a little local flurry was got up in that particular section of the audience; but his snakeship was soon dispatched, and the services proceeded as if nothing had occurred. Nobody fainted.

     Leaving Wakarusa, I bent my course up the Kaw or Kansas River, intending, at this time, to visit the extreme of the settlements. Crossing the river above Topeka, and keeping up through the Pottawatamie reserve, I reached the mouth of Big Blue, where a considerable settlement had been made, and a town laid off. In this settlement were several able local preachers from the East, and quite a number of intelligent and educated men. Among them I succeeded in finding a supply for Fort Riley mission, which was to include all the adjacent country; after passing the night, I took him into my buggy, and set off to introduce him to his work.

     A few miles below Fort Riley we came to the town of Pawnee, finely situated upon the north bank of the Kaw, surrounded with an abundant supply of the best building-stone that I have ever seen, lying exposed, or easily taken

out from the ledges of the bluff, in blocks and squares of regular shape, and almost ready to be put up into a building without the tool of a mason.

     This was the place at which Governor Reeder convened the first session of the Territorial Legislature, wisely judging it best to have them remote from the exciting and corrupting influences of the State border; but from which they adjourned instanter to the Shawnee Mission, within two miles of the Missouri line. At the time of my visit, a number of good houses were up, or in process of erection; one large building by the Governor himself, intended to accommodate the members of the Legislature. I preached in the hotel to an attentive and orderly congregation.

     But Pawnee was destined to a short existence. Sharing in the odium unjustly excited against its executive patron, it was, by some collusive arrangements, as it is believed, with the authorities at Washington, declared to be within the limits of Fort Riley Military Reservation; the inhabitants were driven off, and the houses demolished or left tenantless.

     Traveling on to the Fort, we found it finely improved with large, new, tasteful buildings, erected from the excellent stone in the vicinity, and manned with courteous and gentlemanly officers. We continued our course up to the Forks, where the Republican and Smoky Hill uniting form the Kansas River. Crossing the Republican upon a Government bridge, we passed up into the Forks. Here we found a company mostly of our Church, from Cincinnati, whose acquaintance I had formed in that city on my recent visit. They had purchased a steamboat, shipped a dozen or more frame houses, with other necessary freight, and, with their families, made their way up Kansas River as far as the mouth of the Blue, and were unable, for want of water, to proceed further. The point at which I found them was their previously-selected spot. There they were to build a town, to be called "Manhattan," and to establish a colony; and to this place many of the company, at the stoppage of

the boat, had made their way by laud. They were encamped on the bank of the Smoky Hill, and actively engaged in laying off the projected town.

     But the fickle river would not afford the desired transit. The boat never reached her destination, nor was ever able to retreat. Her race was ended, and with it perished, in a good degree, the delusive hope of Kansas River navigation. Au overture for consolidation was made to the Manhattan company by the company at the mouth of the Blue. It was accepted. The frames were taken ashore opposite the stranded steamer, and soon appeared in the form of neat cottages; their former name was abandoned, and that of "Manhattan" assumed; the adventurers from the Forks returned, all efforts were united, and one of the most flourishing towns of interior Kansas sprung up. At this place, through the untiring exertions of Rev. T. Dennison, Professor Goodenow and others, a literary institution has been founded under the name of "Bluemont College," which is likely to prove an honor and a blessing to Central Kansas.

     Here I had an amusing illustration, added to many previous and subsequent ones, of the awkward and perplexing circumstances in which men are placed who attempt a sudden transition from habits of study and literary ease, or even from commercial and mechanical pursuits, to the rough and unaccustomed scenes of fitting up a frontier home and turning farmers. Visiting my friend, Rev. ---- ----, I found himself and another making their debut in agricultural life in this country, and--if I might so judge--in any country. Both were men of intellect and cultivation, both could conjugate a Greek or Latin verb, or demonstrate a problem in Euclid with facility; one of them could preach to the edification of the dwellers in the good city of B., and the other could conduct New England youth to literary honors. But all this gave them no particular advantage in raising corn and potatoes.

     Learning their locality I went out to view the operation, and found them in a bend of Wild Cat Creek. Despairing

of breaking prairie sod without a heavier team, they had betaken themselves to the soft alluvial loam upon the bank of the stream, overgrown with a luxuriant crop of weeds and vines. A pair of long, lank horses were attached to a huge plow. One of the literati held the handles, while the other, lines and whip in hand, endeavored to goad and guide the team. But all their literature, science, and theology were insufficient. The propelling power was inadequate, and went by starts and stops. The roots resisted, and the rank vines wound round the monster implement and threw it out. In vain did the scholar at the handles labor to hold her to her course. I took hold myself and endeavored to give them the benefit of my superior skill, but soon retired from the field. The immediate sequel I do not know, but the finale was that my friends both concluded to return to the department of life for which God and education had fitted them, and from their labors lasting and beneficial results have been reaped. The reader may take the foregoing as a fair sample of the perplexities of untaught frontier adventurers. There was good sense in the reply of the sainted and eloquent John Strange when, having lost his horse upon his district, one asked him, "Are you not going to look for your horse?" "No," said he, in his usual blunt but pleasant way, "there are plenty of men here that can hunt a horse as well as I can, that can't preach a bit."

     The quarterly meeting for Fort Riley mission was held at the house of Mr. D. on the bank of Big Blue. As this family has already gained some celebrity by a book notice, I may speak somewhat particularly of them. They had been visited by Rev. Mr. ----, pastor of the ---- Church in the city of ----, while out on his early tour through this Territory. On his return the Rev. gentleman wrote a book of travels in Kansas, which gained large circulation. The family had a conspicuous notice in his book. Their residence is the place described as a cabin "one story high, and three stories long." The author was kindly and hospitably

entertained as a clergyman. His character gave access, his devotional exercises interested them, and some very frank confessions were made of departures from previous habits of piety. In making up the book, these were published, and, with some peculiar exhibitions of simple and confiding candor, were held up to ridicule. The book found its way into the Territory. The picture was recognized. It came to the eyes and ears of the simple-hearted family. They were stung bitterly, and doubtless, afterward, were more careful how they "entertained strangers unawares."

     The patriarch of this large household had long been resident there; first employed by the Government to keep a ferry for military uses, over the Big Blue; then concerned in the building of the Government bridge; eventually, a regular "squatter," under the organizing act. The family were cheerful, industrious, and thrifty, with no peculiarities not familiar to the frontier traveler. We were generously entertained, and upon our organizing a society t the quarterly meeting, the parents became united with us in Church membership.

     Barely touching at home on my return, I passed on to the northern section of the work. The third quarterly meeting for Leavenworth mission was held in a grove in the edge of the town, now a dense part of the city. This was a good season. We organized a society of considerable numbers and promising character. Some of the meetings were seasons of great spiritual refreshing. All hearts seemed encouraged to wage the battle anew.

     Here the young preacher, who was to have accompanied me northward, had the misfortune to lose his horse for a time by straying. The never-failing picket rope, or halter, always secured mine. I could not delay, so I journeyed on alone, leaving him to follow. It was my purpose to make the present trip mainly upon the Nebraska side, through some new settlements which I had not yet visited. Accordingly, leaving the Missouri River at a point opposite St. Joseph; I traveled out in the direction of Wolf River, pass-

ing through the section proposed to be organized into a new mission field. Passed a night at the Iowa Mission, a Presbyterian establishment already referred to, and received the accustomed missionary welcome and good cheer from the Superintendent, Rev. Mr. Irwin. Here I met with Hon. Walter Lowry, once a member of the United States Senate, but in later life devoting all his time and influence to the work of missions, as Secretary of the Board.

     Leaving the mission, I took my course for the mouth of Great Nemaha, which I succeeded in crossing at an Indian ferry. Passing up through the uninhabited tract known as Half-Breed Lands, I visited the settlements then forming in the rear, near where the town of Archer was subsequently located. Failing to find the preacher who had been employed upon this mission, I again turned northward, purposing to cross the Little Nemaha at a font upon an old Government trail. Advancing, I found this impracticable, and no course remained but to cross the Missouri, pass around the mouth, and then recross.

     Arrived at the river, I found a company of men on its bank engaged in laying off a town. Quite a surprise was manifested at seeing one, equipped as I was, come in from the rear, with some curiosity as to my real character. At first I was conjectured to be the Government Agent, whom they expected. Corrected in this they supposed me to be a land adventurer, and I was belabored with highly-wrought statements of the prospects of the intended town at that point.

     A singular instance was presented here of the passion of European Catholics for canonization. The projected town was to receive a name, for what is a Western town without a name? One of the leaders in the enterprise was a Frenchman, who kept a trading shanty near the spot. The devout trader, at once, tacked the appellation of "Saint" to his own cognomen., and thenceforward, to this day, the little town has borne the euphonious name of " St. ----," leaving all to wonder where and how he was canonized.

The wind was high. After some detention, I was taken over at "my own risk."

     Reaching Nebraska City, our quarterly meeting exercises were again held in a contiguous grove, near the spot of their present beautiful park ground. At Omaha we still occupied the State-House. Here a man, under charge of murder, and in custody of the sheriff, for want of a jail, was brought by the officer to preaching on the Sabbath. He seemed deeply affected. I returned through Bellevue, and again had the privilege of preaching among my Presbyterian friends at the mission. I extract from my published letter dated Bellevue, N. T June 25, 1855

     "At this mission I again find the indefatigable agent, Mr. Lowry, who, with Rev. Mr. Hamilton, has just returned from a visit to the Omahas upon their present reservation. On leaving, they withdrew nearly all their children from the school. The object of the visit was to consult them in relation to the removal of the school and the erection of buildings upon the reserve. Their men had started upon a hunting excursion to the buffalo grounds. The agent and missionary followed and overtook them. Evil influences had been at work among them. Logan, the principal Chief, refused to be seen. White Cow, another Chief, with the principal men, had an interview, and responded about as follows: We want our children educated, but are unwilling to send them so far away as to the old school. We do n't know where to tell you to build. We are children. We have been promised protection by the Government and have not obtained it. We are here exposed. One of our men has been killed by our enemies, the Sioux. We know not what to do till the Great Father will do something for us."

     It was arranged during this trip that I should not visit the Nebraska portion of the work again that Fall, but that the several preachers should hold their own quarterly meetings at the times appointed. This was rendered necessary by the near approach of the Annual Conference, and the

necessity of my being present at the sessions of two different Conferences, with some extra traveling meanwhile in Kansas.

     About this time the first session of the Territorial Legislature of Kansas, known as the "Bogus Legislature," was held at the Shawnee Mission. The place was within a few miles of my residence, and I was an occasional looker-on. Its wild and reckless course of legislation is matter of history. The state of morals at "the Mission" was little better. An incident will illustrate. A juvenile of my own household was employed there during the session, in the execution of the public printing. A lame limb rendered it necessary to call surgical aid, which he obtained from one of the members. After the prescription, the doctor gravely added, "And you must not drink any liquor till it gets well," seeming to take for granted the universal use of "liquor" by all about the premises.

     The check given to Kansas at this early day, in her morals, education, agriculture, legislation, and every material interest, has not yet been recovered from. Time only, by the blessing of God and the efforts of good men, can give stability and healthful life to a community, torn and distracted by years of anarchy and outrage unparalleled in the history of a free and enlightened people.

© 2003 for the NEGenWeb Project by Pam Rietsch, Ted & Carole Miller.