It stood to the right,
close to the road, and was a veritable hovel. [Footnote:
It might be well to state expressly here that, whatever
has been said in these pages concerning farms and their
inhabitants, has intentionally been so arranged as not
to apply to the exact localities at which they are
described. Anybody at all familiar with the district
through which these drives were made will readily identify
every natural landmark. But although I have not consciously
introduced any changes in the landscape as God made it,
I have in fairness to the settlers entirely redrawn the
superimposed man-made landscape.] It was built of logs,
but it looked more like a dugout, for stable as well as
dwelling were covered by way of a roof with blower-thrown
straw In the door of the hovel there stood two brats--poor
things!
The road was a trail again for a mile or two. It led once
more through the underbrush-wilderness interspersed with
poplar bluffs. Then it became by degrees a real "high-class"
Southern Prairie grade. I wondered, but not for long.
Tall cottonwood bluffs, unmistakably planted trees,
betrayed more farms.
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