I admitted that I had farmed some near Herkimer.
"And," sneered Mr.Wisner crushingly, "how long does it take a man to clear and grub out and subdue enough land in Herkimer County to make a living on?
Ten years! Twenty years! Thirty years! Why, in Herkimer County a young man doesn't buy anything when he takes up land: he sells something! He sells himself to slavery for life to the stumps and sprouts and stones! But in Wisconsin you can locate on prairie land ready for the plow; or you can have timber land, or both kinds, or opening's that are not quite woods nor quite prairie--there's every kind of land there except poor land! It's a paradise, and land's cheap.

I can sell you land right back of Southport, with fine market for whatever you raise, on terms that will pay themselves--pay themselves.

Just go aboard the first boat, and I'll give you a letter to my partner in Southport--and your fortunes will be made in ten years!" "The trouble is," said Bill, "that we'll be so damned lonesome out where we don't know any one.

If we could locate along o' some of our ol' mates, somebody like old John Tucker,--it would be a--a paradise, eh, Jake ?" "The freest-hearted people in the world," said Mr.Wisner.

"They'll travel ten miles to take a spare-rib or a piece of fresh beef to a new neighbor.