Sauk County, Wisconsin - Chapter 4: Farm and Industrial Life, 1918

Chapter 4: Farm and Industrial Life

Charles Hirschinger'k Story of TwbEB-LaND AGRICULTURE - WlLliam Toole, op Pansy Heights - The Tooles Reach Excelsiur township - ploneer fencing - llve stock as beasts of prey - Hard to Get Good Flour - .Mirror Lake, an Old Mill Pond The Bounds op Civilization - Danger op Running Fires - Clearing Away the Brush - The Oak Openings - Trees and Soils - Shrubs - Breaking the Soil - The Toole Farm - Varieties op Wheat - The Chinch Bug Pest - Pioneer Implements - Sowing by Hand- - First Machine Mowing - Stacking the Grain Change in Threshing Machines - Horses as Power - .More About Reapers and Mowers - The Harvester Appears - Improved Haying Machines- Early Varieties ok Corn - Early Industries (by Mrs. L. II. Palmer) - Wild Honey and Ginseng - Early Saw Mills - First Woolen Mill - Furniture Factory - Division op Baraboo Water Power - First Bridge Across the Baraboo - Tannery Erected - Large Fi/OUR Mill and Barrel Factory - Saw Mill and Wagon Works - Prairie du Sac Mills - Reedsburg Industries - Brick Yards and Lime Kilns - Largest Kiln in the County - Short Season op Copper Mining - Iron Industries at Ironton - Death op Founders op Ironton - Hauling Grain prom Baraboo to Milwaukee (by H. II. Flynt)- Milwaukee Nearest Good Wheat Market - Farmers at Last in the Swim - Haul of Four Miles Instead of a Hundred - Morley, the Magician - From Wheat Growing to Dairying - Hop Days in Sauk County (by John M. True) - Hop Industry in Detail (by John Rooney) - Wonderful Hop Picking Machine (by Hugh Kelley)

In the pioneer days of Sauk County nearly every man <>f any real importance had more or less to do with matters which lay close to the soil. Most of them were general farmers, some of them specialized in fruit culture or stock h reeding, and most of them were as familiar with nature's laws and profitable workings as many of today who are making such frantic efforts to reach that healthful plane of life along which their forefathers traveled from hoyhood so naturally and so serenely. ''Back to the soil," forced upon the country and the county by necessity, has become a blessed inclination. It therefore is plainly evident that the stories which have been told of leading citizens of Sauk County, as to their agricultural experiences of the long-past, will not only revive pleasant memories in the minds of the older settlers, but will interest, as never before, those of the younger generations who are harking back with such enthusiasm and good results.

The story of the development of agriculture and farming operations in Sauk County has been often told by those who have been a part of it for sixty years or more. Among others, Charles Ilirschinger, who, with his parents, was a pioneer of the Baraboo Valley, has told the talc. Coming to Sauk County when only ten years of age, in 1847, the family located on Section 8, about two miles southwest of Baraboo, and the boy was later employed by the Canfields, father and son. in the grafting of fruit trees and the care of their pioneer orchard and nursery. The Canfields gradually went out of business and Mr. Ilirschinger established himself as the leading horticulturist in the county. He served as president of the County Agricultural Society. He also got into town politics and both the towns of Freedom and Baraboo, as well as the Board of County Supervisors, kept him in harness for a quarter of a century. He therefore speaks, as one having authority, in this wise :

"Farming fifty years ago in the timber land on the south side of the Baraboo river was not like farming on the prairie. There you could take the breaking plow, turn the sod over, tickle the ground a little and raise large crops. Not so in the timber lands. There we had first to clear the land of everything but the stumps and roots in the ground. After this was done, we could go at it with a plow made for that purpose. To break the ground this plow had a colter with a long point so fixed as to run under the roots to raise them up and the colter would cut them off to the thickness of two inches. In breaking ground in this way, those roots, if you did not watch close, would slap you on the foot and that, would not feel well. After we had the ground plowed we would drag it over and pick up the roots to pile them around the stumps later to be burned. After we got through breaking and dragging this new land, we would have nearly one-third still unbroken on account of roots and stumps. For the purpose of cultivating the land around the stumps, we had iron hoes made at the blacksmith shop that were well adapted and made especially to peel off the sod. Around the stumps then we had a narrow hoe to dig holes to plant potatoes, and sometimes we would plant our corn without breaking the ground first. In this case we would take our iron hoe, peel off the top sod where we wanted to plant corn, then take an ax and strike it. in the ground sharp end, then we would put the corn in the opening left by the ax and chop down each side of the corn. That covered it and we were then ready to commence hoeing out the sod in the spaces between. This was not an easy task, but then it was fifty years ago and the old pioneers were as anxious to live then as now. It was root-hog-or-die and as wc did want to live we rooted amongst the stumps and roots, and some of those old timber pioneers are still alive. In order to keep the wolf from the door we would go out and dig ginseng roots and sell them for a few o cents a pound. Every chance we got wc would take the ax and clear more land. There was not much rest fifty years ago.

"I had 450 maple trees tapped and that was the banner year for maple sugar and molasses. We had one steady run of three days and three nights. I had to keep the fires going to boil the sap three days and three nights; all the sleep I got in that time was what 1 could get at night sitting on the wood pile in front of the fire. Once while I slept five deer came and stood around me. When I awoke they saw me, snorted and made such a racket that I was scared. I felt my heart jump as though it wanted to go away, but it has not failed me yet.

"In the winter fifty years ago I cut cord wood and James Flanders, a local preacher, drew it to Baraboo and sold it. He paid me fifty cents a cord for the labor and the wood. Two cords a day was my stint. Young man, how would you like to do as much for so little money? It was work all the time; and fifty years ago we cut all our hay with the scythe and the grain with the cradle, and we who lived in the timber went to help out the prairie farmers through harvest. That year I swung the cradle over five weeks north of the Baraboo river in the Archie Christie neighborhood. Crops were heavy and wild buckwheat plenty, so it was about the hardest work I ever did, but I staid till the job was finished.

"I got two dollars a day, but at six o'clock in the morning we were in the field at work and had to cradle till sundown. Then we were asked to shock the grain after that. Sometimes we did it and sometimes not. Our friends on Sauk Prairie were not so hard on their men, but fifty years ago one man had to rake and bind all a man cut with the cradle to get full pay. At that time cradles and binders were experts. Those living in the timber also were handy with the ax and scythe. Sometimes we found time to go fishing and hunting. At that time there was plenty of game, fish and bee trees to be found.. If a rattlesnake showed up he was a dead snake. There were so many snakes of the rattler kind, we had to keep an eye out for them. I must say that I hated the rattlesnake, but not so much as the kind we called 'snake in the grass.'

"Fifty years ago I was married to my present wife and were I to tell you all of the hardships you would hardly expect us to be here now. Shorts meal made good pancakes and coffee made of barley, rye and carrots was good at that time. Still we were happy and satisfied with our lot."

History Ok Sack Cointy

Of a somewhat later generation than Mr. Hirsehinger is William Toole, known for forty years in several states as the expert cultivator of pannes. In his earlier years he was a general farmer in Freedom Township and is a thorough and practical agriculturist. But his youthful love for pansies strengthened with his mellowing years, and in the late '70s he commenced to raise the rich, charming and variegated flower from seeds, and finally to produce the seeds for the market. Asters were also extensively cultivated. The business so expanded that Mr. Toole transferred it from the Town of Excelsior, near North Freedom, to a large tract of high ground about two miles southwest of Baraboo; and the famous Pansy Heights was the result. It is not too much to say that there is scarcely a real lover of the pansy in the United States who has not a feeling of affection for William Toole. Although he has his specialty - his hobby, if you please - he is also widely read and deeply informed, especially on historic subjects. This trend of his mind is illustrated in the name which he has bestowed on one of the varieties which has originated at Pansy Heights. Chief Yellow Thunder.

With this introduction of a widely known character in nature's field, as illustrated in Sauk County, the following paper originally prepared by Mr. Toole for the "Sauk County Farmer" is presented in the pages of this history:

'-Finally we started (from western Massachusetts) for Sauk County and reached Kilbourn on March 10 (1859). There was difficulty in locating Excelsior, for the town had been organized but a few years, and few people knew that there was such a place. Fortunately, we had learned that the Reedsburg stage passed somewhere near where we wished to go. and we found that the stage driver was acquainted with tlie people with whom we were to stop.

"The scenery on the route was novel to me. The considerable stretches of scattered oak trees, with but. little brush among them, I was told constituted what were known as 'oak openings.' I was told that S4»uth of the Baraboo river the land was richer and covered with heavy timber in great variety, but that the farms were small there, because of the heavy work in clearing. Before noon we reached the place of our immediate destination - the home of Mr. and Mrs. Livsey, grandparents of our present register of deeds, Carl M. DuBois.

"The estate to be managed (by the head of the family) proved to l>e 80 acres, lying four and one-half miles east of Reedsburg, on what was considered the regular Reedsburg and Baraboo road. The house was across the road north, and a little west from where the Excelsior chapel now stands. The house was one and one-half story, two rooms, one lower and one upper. Rough siding, without sheathing, covered the outside, and the inside finish was lath covered with one thickness of newspapers. Tt was eool in summer and very cold in winter.

"There was a small amount of land cleared and fenced. It was for us to improve the place. Fencing and firewood must be provided, and the first work was felling and working-up trees. Occasionally a tree could be had from among the black oaks which might he split into rails, but very seldom. Our fencing' was mostly procured from the timberlands south of the Barn boo river. Basswood could be had more cheaply than oak, and was used considerably as a makeshift, but oak was preferred, for its lasting qualities.

These poor fences brought on many neighborhood quarrels and sometimes lawsuits. People soon found out that they were not required by law to fence in. their crops and were only compelled to maintain division, or line fences, but there was so much open country and so little inclosed pasture land that people could not afford to let the range pasture go to waste. We tolerated each other's fences as best we could, until sometime in the 70s, when people began to take away their road fences and in a few years it ceased to be the fashion to turn cattle and hogs loose to prey on neighbors. In the villages of Reedsburg and Baraboo the nuisance of stock running at large seemed unbearable. A farmer in town dared not leave a load of grain or vegetables a moment unguarded, lest some predaceous animal should tear the sacks and eat or destroy whatever they could.

"A cheap fencing to use around hog pens, yards, and rough buildings, was slabs from the saw mill at the mouth of Copper creek. This mill, run by water power, was owned and operated by Isaac Morley, who was afterward our first county superintendent of schools. While the country was but sparsely settled, new comers were of special interest, because they were expected to have money, and surely must buy until they themselves became producers. It was easy to become acquainted in those days, and the new comer naturally studied the local geography of the country roundabout.

"Flour was needed, and our neighbors were ready with a supply. It was cheaper than it had been in the east, and the first we got was so much poorer that it never could have become a commercial article. We afterward learned that it had been made from musty wheat The wheat would not bring a fair price in the market, perhaps could not have been sold at all, so the farmer had it made into flour and disposed of it that way.

"Later, when we had raised grain of our own, we learned lots about grist mills, and the faults and virtues of millers. The average farmer in those days gave the millers about as many compliments as are now bestowed on commission men. Millers took their pay in tolls, or shares from the grain they ground, and were accused of taking excessive tolls.

"Each mill, away off, was supposed to make better flour than other mills, and we sometimes went a long way, hoping for better results. One fault of the system was that a grist of good wheat might pass into the stones, following some one's smutty, or perhaps sprouted, wheat or rye, and thus become contaminated with what had gone before. All grinding in those days was done with the old-fashioned stones. The roller process had not been adopted, and they had scarcely commenced the use of the metal mills for feed grinding. Our nearest grist mill was at Reedsburg, four and a half miles away. The next most convenient one was at Delton, about eight miles. This mill was where the Sarringtons now do business.

"In the early sixties, La Barr & Bowman built a flour and grist mill further up Dell creek, and thus gave us the Dell creek mill pond, which is now called Mirror Lake. At Baraboo was the Bassett large flour and grist mill. I don't know when grinding began at the Man- . chester mill. It would be an interesting bit of history for someone to write about all the changing industries of milling, yarn manufacture, and woolen mill, which flourished during various times in the little corner where the Baraboo waterworks now is.

"To us the country beyond Reedsburg was wild, too far from railroads to seem of much account. Our own nearest railway station was at Kilbourn, only twelve miles away. Immigrants were passing through to Bad- Ax country and to the country beyond the Mississippi. Iowa and Minnesota seemed to bound civilization. Government lands were secured by pre-emption at $1.25 per acre, and lands which had been long on the market could be had for less. Splendid lands in Missouri, immediately after the close of the war, were bought from the government at I2V2 cents per acre. Along in those days was passed the homestead act and we sang, 'Come Along, Come Along, Don't be Alarmed, for Uncle Sam is Rich Enough to Give Us All a Farm.' The homestead act gave a grand outlet for the energies of those who had returned from the Civil war.

"In our land-clearing experiences we soon learned the danger of running fires. The brush must be burned, and. the fires sometimes got beyond our control, rushing with the wind through the dead herbage, leaves and brush growth. Then the fences suffered, if the neighbors could not check the fire in time to save them. It was easier to grub the land after the smaller brush and grass had been burned away, but it made dirty work of the land-clearing.

"The brush on these oak openings land was pretty plentiful and was generally grubbed out - that is, cut out by the roots, and the rubbish burned, before turning the sod with the breaking plow. Sometimes the brush was cut off, and the big plows, drawn by five or six yoke of oxen, turned over sod and roots together. The labor of taking out t lii's-- roots afterwards was so great that most people preferred to grub the land in advance of the breaking plow. The brush had evidently been burned over many times, for there were dead stubs in many stages of decay among the growing bushes, and the roots were capped with broad callous growth, called 'stools.' From these stools the brush grew.

"The conditions existing through the country which we called oak openings were a puzzle to me, and probably to many others. Most of the eountry north of Baraboo river was embraced in the term oak openings. The trees, which were almost exclusively oak in the several varieties of black, red, white and burr oak, with an occasional hickory or aspen poplar, and very rarely a black cherry, were irregularly scattered apart and seldom near enough together to be called a grove.

"On the north slopes of bluffs, the trees wuiv more plentiful, almost constituting timberlands. In some places there were stretches of country, where there were no trees or brush, being prairie-like in character as far as growth was concerned. Black oaks might be looked for in the light soils, and where sandstone was near the surface. White oak growth was supposed to indicate a good quality of soil; burr oak seemed to prefer a deep soil, but not always rich. The red oaks seemed more partial to good soil than were the black oaks.

"In central Excelsior, and on the light soils bordering Dell creek valley in the town of New Buffalo - now Dellona - were considerable growths of gray, or jack pine. There were many fine trees of the species in the town of Excelsior. If they could be had of that size now. they would be sawed for lumber, but the best were appropriated for fencing by the early settlers. It might be thought by present day observers that the elms must have been included in the native timber of the oak openings, but the elms have all come in within the past seventy years. Of course there were plenty of white elms in the timber lands and near the river.

there, when we came to get fencing material, saw logs, and later hop poles. There was a considerable amount of white and Norway pine to be found in various places in the timber lands. In the winter of '63-'64 we bought both varieties from the Narrows creek bluffs, and had them sawed at Colonel Ableman 's mill. At the present day, the remains of pine trees which had been cut down for shingle-making may be seen in Pine Creek hollow, in the south part of Baraboo town.

"On most of the land which we then thought worth clearing, there was a growth of oak brush, with dwarf willows, poplar, hazel and a few other kinds of shrubs. The varieties of shrubs varied according to the kind of soil. Hazel, blackberry and a few others were not found on poor soil, while Jersey tea and catgut root were found on two different classes of poor soil.

"It was said that the reason why the oak brush in the openings had not grown into trees was because the Indians had made a practice of burning over the country to make good pasturing for the deer, . and to promote a renewed growth of the blueberry and huckleberry bushes. After the farmmaking had stopped ail running fires, there was a change in the aspect of the oak openings country.

"Wherever cultivated land and cutover pastures have not prevented the growth, the young timber has flourished, until now there is probably more firewood to be bad in that section than existed forty years ago. I never could understand how the scattered trees of the early days grot their start.

"We liked to fret breaking done in June, or early July, that the vegetable matter turned under might be well decayed for the coming crop, which was generally spring wheat. There was a wonderful variety of grasses and other herbage, which furnished feed for the oxen in those days, when breaking was done. We were up by 4 o'clock in the niorniug, to let the oxen feed and to watch that, they could not stray away, because if they stole their liberty it was sometimes hard to find them in the extensive open range. A long nooning was given and a chance to pasture again in the evening. Generally there was grain for the oxen, but often not.

"Two men were required with the breaking team; one with a long whip and a vocabulary to drive, the other to hold the plow and supplement the vocabulary. Various sizes of breaking plows were used, probably the most common cutting about 22 to 24 inches of furrow. Occasionally wider plows were used.

"We all wore boots in those days, with trousers tucked into the uppers. We never could have got around with such heavy dews, and wear shoes. Even the boot tops were not tall enough sometimes.

"If breaking was done early enough, sometimes a crop of sod corn was attempted. In every third or fourth furrow a gash was cut in the sod with an ax, a few kernels of squaw corn were dropped in aud the gash closed by a blow with the side of the ax. No cultivation was giveu, except cutting the poplar or oak sprouts. The weeds were not plentiful enough to cause trouble. If there was rain enough through the season, we got some corn ; if it was dry, we had no trouble to gather the crop.

"During the winter of 1864- '65, our family moved to a farm which was purchased from John Barringer, located on section 26, Excelsior. This was in Hubbard's valley, a couple of miles from Hackett's Corners, which afterwards become North Freedom. Baraboo was our postoffiee town, until after the railroad was made.

"There are so many things of interest which might be written about . it that it is difficult to decide what to consider first. There were crops and methoda, road to market and for intercourse with each other, social events, and schools. Condensation will be necessary and much must be left out. Earning our living was important in those days, and we had but a limited variety of marketable crops and produce. Wheat was our principal crop, dairying was in embryo, hogs were our principal live stock, and beef cattle, while bringing a low price, yet were more important than those for dairying.

"Spring sown varieties of wheat were most commonly grown. A favorite variety was club wheat - a white variety supposed to have some winter wheat qualities. Winter wheat flour was thought to be of better quality than that made from spring wheat. Writh the change to roller mill plan of making flour, there was a change in the estimates of values, and hard wheat began to be preferred. Before the complete change of preference, amber wheats began to take a lead over the white wheats. Club wheat was a variety without beards, as was also Scotch fife and some others.

disdain of second choice. Later, some of the bearded varieties proved to be more robust growers and were generally sown. The Rio Grande was a leader among the bearded wheats. The chinch bugs were a great scourge in those days. Their first choice was for wheat and barley, and next oats. They seldom bred in rye or the meadow grasses. After the small grains had been ruined by them, they marched into nearby corn fields and sometimes injured the meadows.

"They were a small flying insect, about one-fifth of an inch long, with dark bodies and transparent wings, crossing each other on the back, which gave them a slightly checkered appearance. They were winged only in the adult stage. They had a disagreeable smell, which was said to resemble the odor of bed bugs. Whole fields of grain were often completely ruined by having the sap sucked from the plants. The grain would crinkle down and dry so that the fields could be burned over.

"To save the corn; or other fields in which they were advancing, after they had been hatched in and destroyed other grain, we used to plow dust furrows and drag logs along to crush them into the dust. Sometimes straw was spread and burned. When we learned more about them we theorized that there must be no weeds or rubbish for them to winter over in, but finally they disappeared. Probably some disease destroyed them. Oats, of course, we grew for our stock, but there was little local demand and none was sent to the general market.

"In the spring the ground which had been broken the year before was thoroughly harrowed and roots and brush burned. Then the grain was sowed broadcast by hand, generally one and one-half bushels of wheat to the acre. Grain drills were not in fashion then, because we could not afford them. Later the broadcast seeders came to general use, because they were cheaper than grain drills, and to s->me farmers who had been accustomed to scatter grains, it seemed as if the drill put the grains in too far apart.

"After one crop had been raised on the new land, the sod was sometimes backset, but generally cross-plowed. This was heavy work, with such a mass of woody roots in the soil. By that time the smaller roots were decayed enough to be broken with the working and did not give much trouble.

"Nearly all of the harrows were of one pattern, shaped like a letter A with a center piece extending forward from the cross piece. All were of wood, with teeth of three-quarter-inch iron, set without any slant. The average number of teeth was about seventeen to the harrow or drag. A few harrows were made with two side arms. This pattern gave room for more teeth, thus being more effective. Some of this pattern were hinged lengthwise in the center.

Pioneer Frying Pan. Bed Warmino Pan And Tin Lantern Old Time Household Utensils

"Later waa introduced a square harrow, drawn from one corner. This pattern would bound over tough ground and was soon discarded for a double square, connected with hinges. Next was the present style of two or more sections, each drawing independent from a drawbar. This pattern came into use in the early 70s, and about the same time was introduced the slanting teeth, and the practice of harrowing or dragging corn when it was coming up. The diameter of the teeth was also reduced to five-eighths-inch size. About the same time, or soon afterward, the iron frame harrow was put on the market.

"To tell of the development of farm implements during the twentyfive years following the Civil war would be a long and interesting story. We can only occasionally touch on some of them at various stages of this account.

"We practiced fall-plowing of course, and the old-fashioned harrow was a poor implement to prepare such ground for broadcast sowing. Some had drags made with hooked teeth to stir up the ground in advance of sowing. The broadcast seeders, when they came into use, were liked, because they could be used to stir tough soil, where the drill would not be effective.

"On spring-plowed fields it was heavy traveling, for the man who carried grain and sowed by hand. Of course it was heavy work, even traveling over fall-plowed ground, with the grain hung over the shoulders, and the steady swing of the right arm throwing the grain as the right foot advanced and dipping the hand into the bag for another" cast of grain as the left foot advanced.

"We sowed in straight lines, advancing toward stakes set at each end and the middle of the field. The stakes were moved sideways six paces. With this plan the throw in one direction was across what had been sown the previous casting. If the grain was not well spread, the growth would show in stripes lengthwise of the sowing. A side wind would also cause striped sowing. I vised to overcome this difficulty by always swinging the arm in one direction to the side with the wind, using the right arm going one way. and the left arm the other.

"For the first few years our grain was all cut with the cradle, and the grass with the old-fashioned scythe. If there was a reaper or mower anywhere in Excelsior or joining towns previous to '65 or '66, I did not know of it. Our first machine mowing was done by a neighbor who had purchased a Manny reaper. Removing the platform, and putting in a smooth sickle, changed the reaper to a mower. Plenty of good

"We had neighbors who had knowledge of farming in England, where I hey still used a sickle, and we congratulated ourselves that Yankee ingenuity had given us the cradle. In standing grain a good workman could cut three acres of grain in a day, but he would scarcely average that amount. One would hear of unbelievable quantities of grain cut by some men, especially with oats, which were easier to cut than wheat. The grain was laid very neatly in the swath by some men, and very roughly by others, then it was raked in bundles and bound by hand. A smart binder could keep up with a good cradler, sometimes.

"On new land special care was exercised by the binders to prevent hard roots of brush being bound up, because such caused trouble in the threshing machine. Each man learned to do his own stacking, but I found that in Illinois, at least in Pike county, the work was done by professional stackers.

"We had an experience at an early day in changing work with one who threshed from the field. We left our stacking to help a neighbor, receiving a promise that work would be given back right away. A rain following, hindered our stacking; the promised help was not given. We established a rule for ourselves to never leave our grain in the field to do another man's threshing, and we have always stacked our grain.

"The summer of 1859 was very dry, with frost every month. Crops were light and there was no meadow on the farm. This was the case on many other farms. We got a chance to cut slough grass on shares, which gave us some hay which seemed good to us, but the stock in the winter seemed to have as good an opinion of good oat straw for a steady diet.

"The fall was a time when there was a change made in threshing machines. Some had straw carriers and some had not. The kind which was passing out of fashion delivered straw and chaff on the ground together. Oat chaff had been considered a choice feed by some farmers, and it was put into rail pens to be fed out separately. They did not take kindly to the arrangement of the chaff being mixed with the straw. The advantage of having chaff and straw all elevated was so great that the machine without a carrier soon became obsolete.

"The bands were always cut with a knife and all feeding was done by hand, so the feeder was in danger of being hit with grubs - wooden ones - which had been bound in the bundles, and of having his hands cut, through his own recklessness and the carelessness of the bandcutter.

"The threshing machines were run by horse power, varying from eight to twelve horses on the power. The horse powers were hung under the trucks and let down to the ground when in use, being held down with chains and stakes ; later the horse powers were kept on the trucks of a different pattern.

"During wet weather the tramping of horses that were hauling the 'sweeps' to make the power, mixed the mud in the circular track until the horses could hardly go round. With the eight-horse power the farm furnished one team; with the larger powers the farms furnished more teams. To the farm team this unusual work was very severe, especially with a hard driver. We were required to furnish a supply of grease for the horse powers, and if no power grease was to be had we were obliged to furnish good lard.

"The first traction which furnished power on our place, about 1879 was guided on the road by horses. Many farmers held off threshing until after the fall rains, because the wheat and oat straw were their main dependence for stock feed in winter.

"Perhaps a little more should be said about the reapers and mowers. The first reapers in the neighborhood were of the style to have the bundles raked off by hand. With one kind, the bundle man stood or sat with his back to the driver and reached sideways with a fork designed for the purpose, and scraped the grain from the platform.

"Another style had the bundle man stand on the rear edge of the platform, and facing the grain. He shoved the grain sideways to drop behind the driver. Many unsatisfactory self-raking plans were invented.

"In the meantime, the dropper was invented and very generally used for a few years. The grain was caught on wooden fingers, or slats, behind the cutter bar, and when the driver thought enough grain had accumulated on the receiving slats he released a foot trip, letting the rear ends down and the grain slipped to the ground. The team and machine could not do any more cutting, after one round was made, until what was down was bound and thrown aside.

"Finally, the Johnson rake was invented and adopted by all the machines, thus displacing the dropper. This style of rake dispensed with the reel and instead had revolving arms with wooden teeth, which did the work of the reel in pressing the grain toward the cutters and an arm was' dropped at the will of the driver to swing off the bundle of grain.

"During that time, another class of machine, called the harvester, came into fashion and was much used farther west and some in these parts. The Marsh harvester was the forerunner of the class and they were directly in advance of the twine binders. The harvester elevated the grain to a stand, where two men, riding on the machine, bound the bundles.

"Our Jirsi. machine was a combined reaper and mower. This had two drive wheels and was adjustable for grass cutting, and did as good mowing as any. The machine was bought in 1868, and cost $217. The first binders cost about $300. Farm machinery was expensive in those days, and high prices were part of the contentions of the Grangers, who did some good work in regulating costs of implements.

"The first grain binder was the Walter A. Wood machine, and used wire, instead of twine. Wire binding material was dangerous in the straw stack, for stock feeding, and a nuisance in the barnyard or meadow. This binding material was abandoned, as soon as twine came into use.

"By the time mowing machines came into general use, we were raising lots of hay, both timothy and clover. For a number of years the hay rakes were made of wood. A headpiece of maple, about six feet long, was filled with a lot of fingers or teeth, which passed through the head and were pointed at each end. This head was held with a frame work, to which the horse was attached.

"The rake was pulled to slide along over the ground, and when a sufficient amount of hay had been gathered against the frame the operator walking behind gave the rear of the frame an upward lift, causing the fingers to catch in the ground and revolve the head, passing the whole machine over the hay and bringing the other points forward. On rough ground, or in tangled grass, the wooden fingers were often broken.

"Conservative farmers did not like to change to the spring toothed rakes, because they gathered more dirt and rubbish than did the old revolving rake. Our first spring toothed wheel rake cost, more than $50. Money at 10 per cent interest was hard to get. The bankers and farmers were not so chummy in those days, as they are today.

stock industry, but to us corn in the general market had but little value and there was almost no demand for it. This we learned to our disappointment during the winter following the growing season of 1859. That summer the season was dry, with frost every month and a killing one on the night of August 29th.

"Our neighbors generally grew 'Yankee corn' - that was the then prevalent name for the flint varieties. This class, on the average, was earlier than the dent varieties, and there was a general notion that the climate would change all varieties to flint, or Yankee class, in time. When winter came there was more money needed than was to be had from the wheat grown, so it seemed as if corn would be the next available cash-producer.

"In the East, all corn was shelled which was offered in the market, so we spent a number of evenings by the flicker of the stove light and the dim luster of a lard-burning lamp, shelling corn, until we had about twenty bushels ready for market. The usual plan of shelling corn was to push off the grains with a piece of cob. This was tiresome work on the smooth grains of not very dry corn.

"Later we learned to use the spade as a corn sheller. The spade was placed back-up over the edge of a washtub, with the tip of the handle resting on the floor. The operator seated on the spade scraped the grain off against the edge of it. When the corn was ready for market, father took it with the ox team to Reedshurg. No one wanted shelled corn. They said it would not keep that way, but at one store they would give store pay for a little on the ear at eighteen cents per bushel.""

"There was something very alluring to the first exploring homeseeker. as he followed the old Indian trails across the lovely prairies, over the l)cautiful Muffs, along the numerous streams with their prospects of unlimited waterpower. and through the gorges that were lined with splendid groves of fine timber that could be converted into lumber with comparatively little trouble and expense. The most of those 'who came and saw' stayed to conquer the many difficulties incident to pioneer life, nor were they disappointed.

"Sauk county has fulfilled the best hopes of her early settlers, as with varied soils, altitudes, splendid waterpower, fine timber and good climate she has bountifully repaid the efforts of those who settled within her borders.

kinds that arc adapted to a north temperate climate can he produced in great abundance. Good beef and mutton are produced on our hillside pastures, and the butter and cheese have taken first prizes when placed in competition with the dairy products of other states. N. W. Morley won first prize at the National Dairymen's Fair in New York in 1879, also the sweepstakes and a first prize offered by the HiggilM Salt Company.

"Sauk county was the banner hop growing section of the state and almost of the whole Northwest in the ' '60 's.' There was probably more money made and lost by those engaged in the business than has ever been handled from any other product of the soil.

'"There are two products I wish to mention, because they are a little out of the ordinary business. These are wild honey and ginseng. The woods abounded in both and many a family were enabled to supply themselves with many home comforts from the money obtained from gathering and selling these wild products of the woods. Mr. Jassop of Ironton earned the money to pay the government price of forty acres of land by gathering wild honey and peddling it around in the adjoining towns. A widow woman gathered wild ginseng root enough, and sold for a dollar a pound, to pay off a mortgage on her home.

"Necessity is the mother of invention, also the lever that starts the wheels of progress moving, and as the first and greatest needs of our pioneers were lumber and flour, they grasped the opportunity offered by the Baraboo river and began to erect mills for sawing lumber and making flour.

"Abe Wood, the first white man to build a cabin in Baraboo, was also the first to build a dam across the river.. He and his partner, John Rowin, erected a sawmill in 1840. Matson and Van Slyke commenced one about the same time. Draper helped Mr. Wood and became a partner, for a short time, selling his interest in 1842 to Levi Moore, Moses Nulph, and Henry Perry. In 1844 a flood washed out a part of the dam and destroyed the mill.

"Mr. Wood bought out his partner and rebuilt the mill the following summer. J. Clement did the work and soon after purchased Mr. Wood's interest and run the mill in partnership with Mr. Moore for two years. The mill not being successful it lay idle until 1859 when M. J. Drown and J. II. Stewart of Beaver Dam took hold of the property. Stewart soon withdrew, and in 1860, there having been a company formed, a factory for the maunfactnring of woolen goods was erected.

"The Baraboo Manufacturing Company was organized in 1866-7 by a number of prominent business men, and a factory was erected a little north of the woolen mill. They made bedsteads, tables and chairs mostly and did an extensive business. They also attempted to manufacture threshing machines, but the machines not proving a brilliant success, that project was abandoned.

"There was some controversy among the different claimants of the Baraboo water power, but in 1847 James Maxwell purchased a portion of the lower water power and began 'the erection of a sawmill. In 1840 Maxwell sold a half interest to J. P. Flanders and James McVicker of Milwaukee and they agreed to build a $10,000 mill, which was finished in the winter of 1848-9. In 1850 the property was divided, Flanders and McVicker keeping the sawmill surplus water power and land, Maxwell keeping the flour mill with two hundred inches of water to run the mill, also two acres of land. Brier, who owned a small interest, kept the carding mill with water to run it.

"Charles Cook purchased Mr. Flanders' portion in 1856 and erected a sawmill on the ruins of the old one that had burned down. Die also built a tannery and purchased of Mr. Brier some machinery for the manufacture of woolen goods. He became badly involved in 1857 and the property went back to Mr. Flanders.

"John Dean leased the property from Flanders, installed a larger plant and did a thriving business for several years, assisted by his brothers. Win. and James. He then purchased the Maxwell flour mill and water power and moved his woolen mill onto it. The property changed hands several times, and finally lay idle for several years.

"The middle water power was claimed by Ceorge W. Brown in 1844. He built a dam and sawmill that began operations December 1st. The following year he erected a better saw mill and the next season he built a grist mill on the north side of the river. This was the largest mill on the river at that time.

chair factory and lath saw. This season the first bridge was built across the river, in the same place now occupied by the present Ash street bridge.

"Philannon Pratt purchased half of the water power and the saw mill in 1847. The mill being burned, he erected a larger one and in 1848 Donald Schermerhom put up a tannery. In 1849 the Scab urn Brothers purchased the Pratt property, putting in more cabinet machinery, selling out in 1856 to J. N. and H. T. Savage, who added new features and conducted a much larger business. II. T. Savage sold his interest to L. Wild. The stock was increased and they did a fine business until December 1, when the stock and lumber, also Pratt's hub and spoke factory, was destroyed by fire.

"P. S. Bassett and J. P. Sanford in 1853 purchased of the Brown estate their interest in the waterpower and erected a fine large flour mill, with a capacity of 20,000 barrels per year. Sanford soon withdrew and for many years Mr. Bassett did a large local and commercial business assisted by his son, William. Wheat was largely grown those times, and Mr. Bassett purchased large quantities, converted it into flour and drew it overland with oxen to Kilbourn, the nearest shipping point at that time.

''Mr. Bassett added a barrel factory to his mill business and not only supplied all of the surrounding mills with barrels, but shipped a great, many to Minnesota and other parts of the northwest.

"Mr. Bassett, while conducting his business in Baraboo, formed a partnership with William Eikey of Greenfield and a saw mill was erected six miles east of Baraboo. They did quite a business in lumber and wagon stuff which was taken across the bluffs to Helena where it was loaded on flat boats and floated down to market. Mr. Alex Prentice purchased the mill,' turned it into a flour mill and sold it to his son. Andrew, who in after years sold it to Charles Falkenstern, the present owner.

'The Willord Brothers and D. C. Barry laid claim to the water power at the head of the Baraboo rapids and erected a mill in 1843. The property changed hands several times and in 1846 Paddock & Waterman, who then owned it, erected a large furniture shop adjoining the saw mill, and in 1855 they enlarged the mill, putting in more and better machinery. Times becoming dull the business changed hands several times, finally becoming the property of Thomas, Claude and Thomas, who in 1868 placed a set of wagon gearing machinery, capable of turning out the wood for fifty wagons per day. This mill did the largest lumber business on the river.

'The Baraboo river has faithfully served the public in times past and, although it is still being used to some extent, it is to be hoped that the power that is going to waste will be more fully utilized in the near future.

"While Baraboo people were thus busy training natural resources to serve man's needs, the residents of other parts of the county were by no means idle.

"The water power the farthest down the Baraboo river was the last oue constructed, the surveys being made and the dam built by George McArthur & Son about 1896 and 1897. This power has about 6V2 foot head, develops about 100 horse power and is used to operate a linen mill, towels being made.

"The Maxwell dam or City Water Works dam is now owned by the city of Baraboo and besides pumping 300,000,000 gallons of water yearly, develops power for the city owned hydro-electric plant. About 100 kilowats a day are made, the horse power developed by the dam for both plants being about 300. The hydro-electric plant was erected in 1915 and 1916.

"McArthur & Son also own the dam at the foot of Oak street, having purchased the property from the L. E. Iloyt interests and Mrs. Henry W. Wackier. This dam develops about 125 horse power, a linen mill and feed mill being operated.

"The upper power is owned by WT. H. McFetridge, E. P. McFetridge and the other members of the McFetridge family, the 400 horse power being used to operate a large mill in which woolen goods are manufactured. An electric light plant is also operated.

"The dam at Reedsburg operates a flour mill for J. G. Heaton and a branch mill of the Appleton Woolen Company. The capacity of the dam is about 125 horse power.

"Robert Bryant built a dam and erected a saw mill in 1841 at the base of a prominent bluff near the mouth of Honey Creek at Prairie du Sac. He was not successful and sold in 1842 to H. B. Steins who converted the mill into a flour mill and sold it to Mr. Mix, who enlarged and improved the property, then sold out to Wilson, who in turn sold to J. R. Woodruff. Henry Rowell purchased the mill but soon transferred it to Merrihew and Rowell. They enlarged and improved the mill so much that their flour took first prize at the state fair in 1859.

"Reed, Crosswell and Powell, erected a flour and feed mill at Reedsburg in 1848 which burned down in 1860, but in 1861 a new five story 40x60 mill was erected by Moses Mackey. It had four run of stone and was capable of grinding 1,200 bushels of wheat per year. Mr. Stafford ran a saw mill and factory for making tight barrel staves, for several years doing a fine business.

"It would take too long to give even a brief account of the many mills erected in the county. Local mills were erected on most of the small streams and did good work until scarcity of large timber on modern methods caused them to be back numbers.

"There seems to have been a disposition to dabble in all kinds of industries in early times. There were brick and lime kilns; also small breweries and distilleries scattered about the county. Some of the most important were a brick yard operated by English and Bassett not far from where the McFetridge factory is located. John Seeker, Sr., and later his son, the late Charles Seeker, did an extensive brick and tile business three miles west of the city. There was also a brick kiln at one time east of the Ringling winter quarters. There were several small potteries but none of them were of any commercial value and were soon abandoned.

"The burning of lime was quite an industry in the early '60 's and later. William Eikey owned a quarry of magnesian stone that furnished a fine quality of lime for many years; also employment to a number of men quarrying and burning the limestone.

"What is known as cobble limestone was found in large quantities along Jeffries Creek three miles southeast of Baraboo. L. Davies, L. Messenger, N. Shultz, George Glover. Alex Crawford and others were all in the business and at one time there were four kilns in operation. The largest output of any one kiln in one season was 2,600 barrels burned by George Glover. Fruit culture has driven out the lime industry in that neighborhood.

"I am indebted to Mr. Jeff Beaver for the following account of his father's lime kiln, probably the largest of the kind in the county. Peter

Beaver came to Spring Green from Columbus, Columbia County, in 1861. He commenced to burn lime in 1862 but closed his kiln in '63 to enlist for his country's defence in Company A, 36th Regiment. He went on with the lime business on his return from the war burning from three to seven kilns a year to 1867, the great hop year when he burned ten kilns. The kilns contained seven hundred bushels each, and people came from all parts of the county, there being forty teams there at one time and taking all of one kiln in a day. Mr. Beaver kept in the lime husiness for twenty-one years, and then turned to general farming on the stage road leading from Spring Green to Reedsburg, on Beaver Hill.

"Mankind from pre-historic ages seems to have thought the royal road to wealth led to the hidden treasures of the earth, and the residents of Sauk County have been no exception. D. C. Barry was one of the many prospectors and in company with Harry Perry, while looking for a suitable lumber company in Reedsburg, discovered where Big creek had washed the soil away and uncovered a deposit of copper ore on the southeast quarter of section 1. Mr. Perry died the following spring and Mr. Barry took in partnership two Mineral Point miners. They got out two tons of copper ore that sold at Mineral Point for $90.00 per ton. He was offered $1,500 for his mine, but did not sell and after prospecting all summer was obliged to abandon the mine for lack of money.

"G. W. Andrews kindly furnished the following account of the Ironton iron business: It is now over half a century, since James Tower, an iron master of Crown Point, New York, became imbued with the spirit of colonization and the firm belief that great opportunities lay in the 'New West.' nc arrived at Mayville, Dodge county, Wisconsin, in 1850, and entered into partnership with Captain Bean of that place for the manufacture of pig iron. Four years later he learned of iron ore owned by William Reed, founder of the city of Reedsburg, and he made a irip of investigation. He stood on the big hill southeast of the site of the present village of Ironton and looked out over the beautiful little valley which lay before him. nis trained eye gauged the value of the mineral indications about him, and he resolved to create a new home in this wilderness. He purchased the mining property for $3,000 and returned East to make preparations for his final departure. A number of his former employes, mostly Irishmen with their families, decided to cast their fortunes with him and, together with his family and a number of relatives, among whom were Charles Keith, Putnam Fuller, Edward and .John Tower, he turned his hack upon the comforts and refinements of civilization and bravely faced the trials and hardships inseparable from frontier life.

"Logs were hewn, and rude houses erected on the flats, near the Little Baraboo river while Indians came to gaze stolidly at the new people, and the first saw mill that was soon in operation. The construction of mill, foundry and blast furnace was now begun, and the installation of the heavy machinery, which was hauled from Portage, thirty-five miles distant, was attended with great difficulty. But in four years the plant was in working order and its products were of a superior grade. John Shaw, afterwards of Milwaukee, was the first bookkeeper. Others came from the old home to join the little colony among whom was John P. Smith, a young man destined to bear a prominent part in the later development of the place and who, in 1862, took charge of the office work.

"For six years Mr. Tower labored unceasingly for the success and upbuilding of the new project, and the welfare of those who had joined in the undertaking. But he was not to enjoy the fruits of his industry, nor to see the fulfillment of his hopes and plans : - he was fated to be a sower that others might reap. His health had been undermined by the cares and responsibilities and various burdens imposed upon him and he succumbed after a brief sickness, October 24, 1864, at the age of 64 years. He was laid at rest in the little new cemetery within sight of the village, he had loved and founded. Two years previous Mr. Smith had became a partner in the firm and the business was continued under his management for three years when the Tower heirs sold to him their entire interest and he became sole owner of the estate. He was a man of lofty character and keen perception and recognized the value of the opportunity thus offered him. His possessions now included 5,500 acres of land and furnished employment to 150 men. Prosperity was at its height and the output of his foundry yielded an immense profit. Pig iron sold in Chicago, Roekford, Milwaukee. Eau Claire, Whitewater and Beloit, "Wisconsin, and in Winona and Stillwater, Minnesota, for from $60 to $90 per ton. The castings were mostly sleigh-shoes and cauldron kettles were sold from the Kickapoo Valley to Iowa at corresponding prices. A 'company store,' blacksmith and repair shops were now a part of the equipment, and the whole formed a unique scene.

"It was a gorgeous sight at casting time to see the white hot molten mass pour out into the beds prepared for it in the black sand. In the surrounding forest, expert charcoal burners watched their kilns by night and by day, for much depended upon the quality of the fuel.

"Strong teams with lusty teamsters took long hauls over difficult, sometimes almost impassable roads to the nearest shipping points - Mauston, 20 miles, and Ixme Rock, 30 miles away. In 1870 the Northwestern railroad was extended from Madison to Sparta, and the business was brought into closer connection with the outside world.

"Mr. Smith '8 wealth increased rapidly, but, lonely and reserved, he was indefatigable as ever in his labor. He was stricken suddenly with the sickness that terminated in his death six weeks later, at the age of 52 years. A handsome granite shaft from the quarries of his native Vermont hills, marks his grave near that of Mr. Tower. When he realized his earthly career was nearly ended he sent for his sister, Mrs. Jeanette Herrick, of Vermont, who became his heiress, and her son-inlaw, M. R. Doyon, who had accompanied her, assumed the management of the varied interests involved. Young in years', inexperienced in the iron business, and without previous knowledge of western conditions, his position was a difficult one. But his grasp of affairs, his ready and unerring judgment, soon proved him a captain of industry, second to neither of his predecessors. He was ably assisted by his cousin, T. E. Doyon, now of Redfield, South Dakota, who was an efficient ally and contributed greatly to the success of the regime.

"In 1881 a sale of the property was effected to D. M. Sabin, of Stillwater, Minnesota, afterwards U. S. Senator from that state, who formed a corporation known as Seymour, Sabin & Co., which later became the Iron Mountain Ore and Furnace Company. Francis Byrne, who had entered the foundry in boyhood as a moulder, and had been closely identified with it during every stage of its progress, the foreman and confidant of Mr. Smith, now became manager of the entire estate. George W. Andrews was installed as bookkeeper.

"For several years the business was successfully conducted but with the advance in value of timber, the cost of charcoal was much increased and along ahout 1890 there was a great slump in that price of pig iron, so that with a furnace that was not modern, the manufacture of iron became much less profitable.

"Mr. Byrne resigned from his position in 1890, but still lives in the village in the old colonial house which Mr. Tower built for his own occupancy and upon the dissolution of the Iron Company, about 1895, Mr. Byrne purchased the original Tower lands, and he is still the owner of them."

horses and a wagon, boarded a steamboat at Eric and went by the lakes to Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and thence overland, about one hundred miles, to Sauk County, and located on a farm about four miles northwest of Baraboo, the county seat. Wisconsin was then wilderness and away out on the frontier. Father had traded some Erie County property for some land in Sauk County, where he located, thinking to better his condition, and where his four growing boys could have a chance to develop their latent talents. This country was then undeveloped, and no one knew its possibilities. Everybody was poor, and, of course, had to do the best he could. Some farmers thought the soil better adapted to wheat than anything else, and as fast as they got their land broke up, put it to wheat. ,

This venture proved well as far as yield is concerned, for the yield was twenty, thirty, and sometimes forty bushels to the acre. But where was the market T Baraboo was a plate of only about three hundred people. Madison, the capital of the state, was the next nearest place of any consequence, forty miles distant, and that not large enough to afford any market for our wheat, and there was no railroad there then. .Milwaukee was the nearest place, one hundred miles, that provided a market for our wheat; therefore the only alternative was to haul our wheat to Milwaukee and sell it for thirty, forty, fifty, and sometimes as high as sixty cents per bushel. This was pioneering and making money with a vengeance. Thus farmers kept growing wheat until about 1858 or 1860, when the chinch bug put in an appearance and reduced the farmers' yields down to from three to ten bushels per acre.

In hauling the wheat to Milwaukee, both horse teams and oxen were used ; more oxen than horses. It took from two to three weeks to make a trip, depending upon the weather and the roads. Some seasons the weather would be fine and the roads goods; other seasons the weather would be rainy and the roads bad.

Xo settler ever indulged in the luxury of stopping at a hotel, unless compelled to do so by sickness or a bad storm. The time it took and the price of grain, forbade any luxuries. I heard one settler say that his load of wheat lacked sixty cents of buying a few groceries and incidental pxpenses of one trip. A settler would start out with his load of grain, a small sack of flour or com meal, and would take a shot gun with which to get his meat on the way. Camping out was the alternative. At first the Wisconsin River was crossed by ferry at Portage. Portage had an eye single to the trade west of the river and after a few years erected a bridge. Later a ferry was established at Merrimack. I do not remember of hearing any settler say what the toll was at these places.

In the meantime, what is now known as the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul Railroad had built a railroad from Milwaukee to Prairie du Chien, and was building a line from Milwaukee to LaCrosse, and had it built as far as Kilboum City, sixteen miles north of Baraboo. There was also built at this time a flouring mill at Baraboo. The farmers by this time began to think they were in the swim, by having a flouring mill at hand to buy their wheat and a railroad so near.

We well remember the first load of wheat we were sent with to that mill. The price received was eighty cents a bushel. Gee! What a contrast; eighty cents a bushel, and only a four-mile haul from a hundred-mile and fifty cents a bushel. After our load of wheat was disposed of - boy like, wc thought we would see the sights of the new mill, and on our rounds, we saw the by-products, the bran and shorts, running through a spout out of the mill into the river. On returning home, we told the home folks the price we received for the load of wheat, and we all thought wc had the world by the horns, and yet our yield that year was only eight bushels per acre.

How the farmers rejoiced over the erection of this mill. It would pay them ten cents a barrel to haul its flour from Baraboo to Kilbourn City, sixteen miles; they could haul ten barrels to a load, make one trip a day, thereby make one dollar a day for themselves and their team. Thus we thought we had raised one notch higher in the scale of prosperity.

Morlev, The Magician

We had in our midst at that time one very progressive farmer, Mr. N. W. Morley, who is known in the state over as one of the pioneer and successful dairymen of the state. Mr. Morley came from Mentor, Lake County, Ohio, in the early '50s and located in our midst. Many farmers in Lake County had entered the dairy business and were making money. Mr. Morley was a man of large views, a thorough business man, and a successful dairyman. When he first located in Sauk County, he entered into wheat growing the same as the rest. It was unsatisfactory to

The writer remembers him saying one day, "If the farmers of this section ever make their business pan out, they will have to change their tactics. I know the farmers in Lake County that have entered the dairy business have made money, and I believe we have every opportunity, every facility, and every condition just as favorable here for the dairy business as in Lake County." Thus he talked and thus he worked. He began to buy cows as fast as he could, and he kept at it until he had gathered up about forty head. He commenced by making butter, but later added the manufacture of cheese. His original quarters became too small for his expanding business, and he decided to build a large stone cheese factory. He had a fine stone quarry on his farm, and out of this quarry he took the rock and erected the cheese factory on the same spot. We had the pleasure of helping dig the rock and attending the masons that built this cheese factory-, and also became a patron. After he had the cheese factory built and in operation, the surrounding farmers began to gather about them a few rows and took their milk to his cheese factory to be manufactured into cheese. It was but a few years until the appearance of that community was completely transformed. The farm mortgages were soon lifted. The old log house was replaced by a large and imposing dwelling. The old straw sheds and stables gave place to large frame barns, stables, and outbuildings. Now and then a farmer would stick to grain growing, but he remained in the same old rut - no enterprise, no improvements.

The raising of wheat for the market, that had for years been the leading pursuit of the farmers of the county, on account of the deterioration of the soil and the ravages of the chinch bug. was Incoming unprofitable. Live stock husbandry and dairying had not established a foothold, and farmers were in position to welcome a new departure in husiness, when the raising of hops - to be sold at very remunerative prices - seemed to come as a veritable "Godsend." t

Conditions of soil and climate were well adapted to the growing and curing of an excellent quality of hops, and soon Sauk County was among the leading counties of the West in acreage and production of the crop.

We find, from the statistical reports in the office of the secretary of state, that in 1867 Sauk County raised approximately 2,000,000 pounds of hops, this being considerably more than one-fourth of the entire crop of the state.

Pioneers in the industry in a small way had demonstrated that hops could be raised at a profit of from 10 to 15 cents per pound, and when prices suddenly went up to twice that amount, and higher, there was a general rush into the business, until it is safe to say that in 1866 and 1867 more than 60 per cent of the farmers in the townships of Greenfield, Baraboo, Fairfield, Delton, Dellona, Reedsburg, and Winfield had hop yards of very respectable dimensions, while other townships in the county were more or less extensively engaged in the work. Many who owned no land rented from two to ten acres, and started in to make a fortune.

Hop poles were in great demand, and timber lands were scoured for trees of proper size for making them; the value of such lands being reckoned upon the number of hop poles they would yield per acre. Poplar poles that would only last two or three years were extensively used, while oak poles brought as high as $15.00 to $18.00 per thousand. Tamarack, then found in large quantities upon the "Great Marsh" in Fairfield, made the most durable poles, lasting for a long time. I venture to say that some old tamarack hop poles are yet doing service as auxiliaries in fence building upon Fairfield farms. >

The sale of hop roots became an important adjunct to the hop raiser's revenue, as the roots of the older plants needed trimming in, or "grubbing" in the spring, and as seed roots were very much in demand, those sold for from $15.00 to $25.00 for roots enough to set an acre.

The most expensive part of the hopgrower's outfit was the hop-house, affording room for storage and the drying kiln, the heat for which was furnished by huge cast iron heaters, denominated "hop stoves."

Many of these buildings were quite elaborate, and some of them even pretentious in style and finish. These old hop-houses are yet doing service as granaries or stables, upon many Sauk County farms, though in most instances the ventilators that adorned their roofs have been removed, and the great, stove and kiln are no longer a part of the inside fixtures.

At the time of gathering the crop, hop-pickers were in great demand. Young women were brought in by scores, from other parts of the state, while the local force of women and children from non-hop-growing families deserted home duties for the excitement and profit of work in the hop yard.

Hop-raisers' homes were turned into boarding houses, and to attract and hold the much desired field help, elaborate bills of fare were furnished. To the merry, rolicksome routine of the day's work in the field.

Pickers were paid by the box for hops cleanly picked from the vines, and prices for picking were 50 cents and sometimes more, per box. In picking, hops were not pressed down in the boxes, but allowed to rest lightly as thrown in. Each stand contained four boxes.

A man, termed "pole-puller," was allowed for every two stands, - it being his duty to keep pickers supplied with vines upon the poles ready for picking, and later to strip the poles of the denuded vines and place them in large, round, upright stacks.

As boxes were filled, hops were emptied into sacks and carted to the hop-house for drying. After being cured they were pressed into large bales and covered with canvas, when the crop was ready for the market.

Competition in buying was usually sharp, and buyers drove through the county from farm to farm, bidding upon holdings of farmers, prices varying more or less according to the quality or extent of the product, , hut usually ranging from 40 cents per pound upward.

When a man had "sold his hops" he was supposed to be in funds and ready to pay the bills that for months had been accumulating upon the expectation of the sale now made.

During the years of good crops and high prices he easily met these ohligations, though they ran into large figures, and had money left for the purchase of additional conveniences or luxuries, though he seldom deemed it necessary to "lay by" any present surplus against future needs, as he did not question the stability of his present source of wealth.

Few farmers were really enriched by the cultivation of hops, except as through the work, they had erected buildings for hop-houses, that, though not well calculated for the use to which they were later put, served as stables or granaries in later years, or in the possession of what had been considered luxuries, which bought, had remained as reminders of the days when they were rich, or thought themselves so.

We came to Sauk County in October, 1857, and in the summer of 1859 I worked on the farm of Hopkins Locke in the Town of Westfield, Sauk ( 'ounty. Being then fourteen years old, and having a natural love of the soil, my mind was easily attracted to all subjects pertaining to the farm. Having occasion to visit the farm of John Donovan 1% miles northeast of the Village of Loganville, I made a call at the village store, then kept by Eleiser and Elihu Newell and while in the store I heard some parties mention the name of Tom Port in connection with hops. Whether he had a hop yard or was going to set. one I do not remember, but I know the question was under discussion at the time. The next year 1 went to work on Sauk Prairie and heard nothing more of hops until September, 1863, when home on a furlough.

I had at that time two sisters picking hops for Samuel Bliven, two miles southeast of the Village of Loganville who were getting 16 cents a box for pickiug. Mr. Bliven had contracted his hops for 17 cents per pound. A box of hops made a trifle more than ten pounds of dried hops. We also visited the yard of Andrew Kyle and Lyman Twist, south of Loganville, and while many of the pickers had husbands, brothers and friends then in the south, they were a jolly lot of women and girls and the hop dance was quite frequent. 1 got home from the war on the 12th of. July, 1865, and immediately after getting home, James Kyle, a son of Andrew Kyle, called on me and engaged me to pull hop poles for them when the hops were ripe. Each pole puller was supposed to pull the poles for eight pickers and lay thorn carefully on the ridge pole so as not to jar the hops in the box. In addition the pole puller stripped the vines off the poles and then stacked the poles and piled up the vines. He then picked up all lose hops and placed them in the picker's box. This was a critical transaction for the box tender, because if he happened to forget and put a few more hops in one box than he did in another he was sure of either a tear or a frown. The box tender also emptied the boxes into the burlap sacks that held two boxes of the hops and, if a careful man, he would place them on a bunch of vines so they would not heat and color.

For the crop of 1865 the pickers got 40 cents a box for picking and Mr. Kyle got 42 cents a pound for his hops. He had four acres and the yard averaged 2,200 pounds to the acre. Mr. Kyle gave me $2.50 a day. That was $1 more than he paid the other pole pullers. I did not expect but $1.50, as that was the going price, but I helped until the hops were at the kiln and he said he got 2 cents extra on account of the good sample of his hops. Many samples of hops were injured by the pickers sitting on the sacks. I advised the pickers to sit on the piles of vines instead of on the sacks of hops. Then 1 advised them to get up as soon as it was light and I soon had a very active lot of pickers, which meant much to the grower as well as the pickers. I mention these matters because pickers soon got from one and a half to four boxes a day and a few experts picked five boxes a day. I had three sisters and my present wife who picked five boxes a day, during the season of 1866, and got 50 cents a box for picking.

In the fall of 1865 a man by the name of Ashbel Post hired me to work on a shingle machine to make oak and basswood shingles, as they were being much used on hop house roofs and there were many houses being built. The oak shingles sold for $2.50 per thousand and the basswood at $2.00. The first week much time was given to the hop question, and he finally asked me to enter into partnership with him, he furnish- ing the land and fitting it for the plants. But as I was only twentytwo years old I did not feel qualified to enter into any partnership. Then he asked me if I would work outside the shop to help him set out four acres. I said surely I would. The usual way to set out a yard of hops was to lay it out in eight foot squares and place a stake where the hill was to be ; then take a pointed stick and make a hole about four inches deep; and insert the plants, usually about four plants being used. The plants were pieces of roots cut so there were four eyes or buds on each plant. But instead of using a line with eight foot spaces, I took a pole ten feet long and bored six holes in it, two for handles, two for shafts and two eight feet apart to make the marks. By marking both ways it left a cross where each hill was to be set. After platting this yard I was called on to plat many others.

In 1866 I learned the art of drying hops from John Palmer, father of Mrs. Jasper Odell of this city, and that fall entered into the excitement of growing hops in Sauk County.

In the year 1867 my stepfather asked me to go into the business with him. I did not like the idea, but when my mother asked me to do so, I could not say "No" and went in. I soon found I had made a mistake, but I am no kicker until attacked; then look out for breakers. Well, my stepfather proved himself a full-fledged obstructionist. I was determined to do the best I could in my poor condition of health. In 1867 we made $1,100 over expenses. In 1868 we lost $3,000. We picked 198 bales of hops and got $172 less than the sacking cost us. We had fifteen acres of hops on shares, the yard being owned by O. Phelps, who was usually known at the time as Professor Phelps. Thus you will see I knew something of the rise and fall of hops in Sauk County. I sold hops in 1867 for 56 cents per pound and paid freight charges on some in 1868. I sold roots from $5 an acre in 1867 to $10 an acre in 1868. I sent roots to Ohio and Maryland. Many of the hop growers who paid a large income tax in 1866 lost not only their hops, in 1868, but lost their homes.

So I met the kissing bow and lucky branch of 1865, as well as the collapse of the hop trade in 1868. I also met some of the kindliest of people of those times to the most disreputable of any time. Most of the hop growers had to pay $1 a head preminms for pickers and transportation from Milwaukee, Janesville and Monroe, as well as intermediate towns. We did not pay any bounties and got many of our pickers in the Village of Loganville, Reedsburg and Sauk City. In 1868 we paid $154 for tying hops. They usually had to be tied three times; first, from the ground; next, from a step ladder, and last from a horse's back. The food for the help was much the same at all meals, such as you would expect at any picnic dinner of the present day. We paid $1 a day to young ladies for tying them to the pole.

1 got $10 a night for myself and horse. One night we bought ten lots of hops. All but two of the growers we had to wake up to show their hops. The last lot we bought of John Hackett, of Hackett's Corners, now North Freedom. The reason for doing so was to keep the growers from getting excited. In 1867 many of the hop buyers tried to violate their contracts at delivering time and much annoyance resulted from this.

Several years previous to the "hop boom" John Dean was running the Dean woolen mill, located on the lower water power, where the city pumping station now stands. Being of an inventive turn of mind and seeing the straits the growers were subjected to in procuring pickers, Mr. Dean began evolving a picking machine and inside of a year had it revolving. The writer may experience a little difficulty in conveying a clear description of the machine after a lapse of so many years, although I was the engineer on the first completed machine and operated it during its initial trip. The motive power was steam, gasoline being then practically unknown. The steam was utilized through two cylinders, much after the pattern of our traction engines, only much smaller and about one-third the weight. On top of this carriage was mounted a crane-like arrangement much resembling a steam shovel, with a hood carrying eighty-four steel fingers working just the opposite from a hay tedder, gathering instead of scattering. This hood went up one side of the standing pole and down the other raking in all the hops and leaves. These dropped down through a pipe in which was working a cylindrical fan that sent the leaves scurrying across the field. At the lower end of this pipe was a heated drum into which the hops fell and where they were partially dried. Under this was another drum filled with the fumes of burning sulphur, and here the drying process was completed and the proper coloring given to the hops. They were then pressed by machinery into a burlap sack and when it attained about 200 pounds weight it was dropped from the machine. The boiler consumed a few barrels of water and one cord of four foot wood every twelve hours, and all the help required was two women to sew up the bales as they were dropped from the machine and two men with fish poles to push in the arms, or laterals, that stood out so far from the parent vine that the fingers could not reach them. Of course, after the hops were picked the poles were still to pull, strip and stack, but when you remember that it did away with the costly hop house, kiln, drier, press, pickers and boarding house, you can imagine what a boon it was to the growers. Unfortunately, it did not make its advent until the year that brought the crash and for this reason many who had been in the hop business never saw it. We were to make the test in the yards of M. E. Spring, on the farm now owned by L. D. Burtch ; and one morning in the early fall of 1868 w6 started from the woolen mills. On leaving the Lake Road at the late George Capener's home, we had to climb a sharp incline and in hitting the engine unusually hard I broke a link lifter. This let the forward end of the blade drop to the ground, breaking the eccentric strap into several pieces. We hurriedly took down the main rod on that slide, covered the steam ports and blocked the side valve. After several attempts we found the one engine unable to move the machine. Just then Abe Johnson came along with a yoke of oxen and helped us over the hill, when we made our way to the yards. Here we found that although we could do all the othe'r work we did not have power to do the pressing. The nearest machine shop was at Mauston. Mr. Spring borrowed Wm. II. Canfield's buck-board, the lightest rig in the country, and hitching up the fastest horse in his barn, started the hired man for Mauston. At the shops of Benjamin Boorman he secured a machinist by the name of II. H. Hulbert, afterwards sheriff of Sauk County. They fastened their tool box onto the platform behind the seat, drove all night and next forenoon arrived here. Mr. Hulbert took the wheel out of the wellhouse, knocked the spokes out and made an eccentric strap out of the rim. The link lifter bothered him sorely for it was so thick we could not get a welding heat on the inside before the outside would burn. He finally took some soft solder and "sweat" the ends together and then shrunk a band of iron around it. At 4.20 P. M. we started up and as it was a bright moonlight night we worked until 11.00 o'clock. The next day at 6.30 P. M. we finished the yard of six acres.

These machines were shipped from the factory in Kenosha, Wisconsin, in a knocked down condition. The next morning, after finishing Mr. Spring's picking, Dick SuthclifTe took this picker over into Peter Buck's neighborhood and I returned to the mills to assemble the parts of another machine that had arrived. Here the bottom fell out of the whole hop business and the second machine never went into service.

After cold weather came Mr. Whitlock, a friend of Harry Slye's, took this picker down on the river bank, back of Isaac Gano's farm, now owned by Harley Langdon, and used it to rake bull heads and carp out of the mud. A brother of Mr. Dean's became so despondent over the turn in affairs that he attempted suicide in the basement under Tom Oats' wagon shop, where the late Arthur Briscoe had a hlacksmith shop. '

Now for my references. Some of the following named saw the picker working and all of them stand ready to testify that I would not make a statement that was not reliable: T. W. English, First National Bank; Charles Burrington, speculator ; all members high school faculty ; George Tinkhara, farmer; William Fox, fruit grower; all of Baraboo; C. E.

Sherwood, engineer on Northwestern Railroad ; Wm. St. George, engineer on D. & R. G. Railroad; H. E. Paddock, merchant, La Valle; W. 0. Cannon, ex-sheriff, Valton ; Fred Le May, engineer on Omaha Railroad, and Mack Williams, bookkeeper.