Essays --

roughly the turn of the last century, and in the nineteen hundreds, much literature was displace from Canada to the United States for the benefit of those that were interested in farming. People were led to remember that a short cut to happiness and prosperity was to simply go to Canada. It all sounded so interesting. It was written that any atomic number 53 coming to Canada received 160 demesne of vote down for ten dollars plus slight homestead duties. Canada was the land where you never hear the thunder. It usually rained only at night and the water supply was so pure, one could drink water off the ground anywhere and it would non make you sick. When you wanted fresh meat, all you had to do was open the opening and shoot your choice of the wild game that was so abundant. Seeing no future for themselves as young farmers, on poor, stoney and heavily timbered land at Fosston, Minnesota, several families left for Canada to look for these homesteads. After arriving in Wadena, a nd with the local anesthetic guide, the men began walking in the north direction. They followed an old Indian data track over to the quarter sections of land available for proving as homesteads. Each opus selected a quarter that he would work, they were all enjoined. They had now put in two days of interesting and educationaldiscoveruies. Interesting, in that it looked like there was a future for this country and educational, in learning that you could not expect to be able to do much walking if you drank the supposedly pure water lying everywhere on top of the ground. The local guide was already a seasoned homesteader and anyone that k refreshful him would realize that he knew how sick, those poor greenhorns would position from drinking all that slough water. The next day, they walked back to Wadena and took the train to Hu... ... We had so many ducks that winter that we couldnt eat them all before the weather dour warm in the spring. When we tired of eating duck, there were l ots of scrubbing rabbits, and when we tired of rabbits, we ate duck. On the 20th of march 1949, I awoke one morning to find mom in an unusual mood and she told me protoactinium had left for a drive with Cathy and the buggy during the night. For the life of me, I could not grasp what was going on, or what was to take place. Then I heard the buggy on the frozen ground and sure enough, dad was home. He had a passenger with him. She was an older lady and I was told her name was Mrs. Thorsen. I was then told to hook up Black, a calf we had broken, and to drive to the new neighbors to see how the building of their new house was coming along. I went, just I was not away very long because I knew the lot were not ordinary at home.