Now it is hard to convince a man from the East that our state was once bare prairie.
"It's funny," said the young doctor that married a granddaughter of mine last summer, "that all your groves of trees seem to be in rows.

Left them that way, I suppose, when you cut down the forest." The country looks as well wooded as the farming regions of Ohio or Indiana.

Trees grew like weeds when we set them out; and we set them out as the years passed, by the million.

I never went to the timber when the sap was down, without bringing home one or more elms, lindens, maples, hickories or even oaks--though the latter usually died.

Most of the lofty trees we see in every direction now, however, are cottonwoods, willows and Lombardy poplars that were planted by the mere sticking in the ground of a wand of the green tree.