We lived in Alto until 1853, and then the farm was abandoned, and my
parents, with all the children except myself, moved to the neighboring
city of Fond du Lac, where father could work by the day and earn
enough to support the family. I was left to work for a neighbor; but
I grew so homesick after a lonely Sabbath in a household where there
were no children and it was considered wrong to take a walk on Sunday
afternoon, that on Monday I took my other shirt from the clothes-line
and started for Fond du Lac. I knew the stage-driver, and he gave me a
lift.
As we approached the city the driver made me get down, and he told me
to follow the sidewalk along the main street until I came to a foundry,
next to which was father's house. I followed close behind the stage,
keeping in the middle of the road. Soon I found myself in the city,
where there were houses and stores on each side of the street, and
board walks for pedestrians. I feared to walk on the sidewalks, for I
was barefooted, and my feet were muddy and the sidewalks very clean.
The people seemed to be dressed up as if for Sunday, and all the boys
wore shoes, which excited my pity, for I knew how hot their poor feet
must be.
As I groped my way along Main Street I noticed a sign that stretched
nearly across the entire building over three stores. In large wooden
letters, at least six feet long, were the words "Darling's block."
It was the largest building I had ever seen, three stories high, and
I ventured to step on to the sidewalk; and while gazing in awe upon
the mighty structure my attention was attracted by a noise inside. I
walked in and found myself in a printing-office.
As I was taking in the wonderful scene the pressman spoke to me in a
gruff voice, asking me what I wanted. "Nothing," I said, trembling, and
starting for the door. "Don't you want to learn the trade?" he shouted.
"The editor wants an apprentice."
Just then the editor appeared in the doorway of his sanctum. He was a
pleasant-faced man, and he asked me in a kindly tone whose boy I was
and where I belonged.
"Why, your father is one of my subscribers. I want an apprentice to
learn the printer's trade. I can give you twenty-five dollars for the
first year, thirty for the second, and fifty dollars and the carrier's
address for the third year, with your board and washing."
"All right." In less time than it takes to write it I was behind the
press, and in five minutes I was covered with printer's ink from head
to foot.
My pioneer days were over.
[Illustration]
"THE PLAINS ACROSS"