d was admitted to the bar. He was much beloved by
all, a sparkling talker--his word as good as his bond. He had never been
well and as time went on, gradually grew weaker. His house was a little
more than a block from his office, but it soon became more than he could
do to walk that distance. On the common, half way between the two, was
the liberty pole. He had a seat made at this point and rested there.
When he was no more, the eyes of his old friends would grow misty when
they passed this hallowed spot.

Soon after I made the acquaintance of Judge Flandrau at Traverse de
Sioux there was a young man visiting him from Washington. The judge took
us both on our first prairie chicken hunt. We had no dog. On the upper
prairie back of the town going along a road, we disturbed an old prairie
hen that attempted to draw us away from her young. The Judge had
admonished us that we must never kill on the ground, always on the wing,
to be sportsmen. This hen scudded and skipped along a rod or two at a
time. Finally, he said, "Fellows, I can't stand this, I must shoot that
chicken, you won't tell if I do?" We pledged our word. He fired and
missed. After we got home, we told everybody for we said we had only
promised not to tell if he shot it. We never enjoyed this joke half as
much as he did. We always joked him about making tatting.

Flandrau, dearest of men, true as steel, decided in character, but
forgiving in heart, a warm friend--was one of the greatest men our state
has ever known. He was a tall, dark man, and very active. He had often
told me how he and Garvie, clerk for the Indian Trader at Traverse de
Sioux used to walk the seventy-five miles to St. Paul in two days. He
once walked 150 miles in three days to the land office at Winona.

In 1858 I built my own home in St. Peter and made my garden. The year
before I had gone into a clump of plums when they were fruiting and tied
white rags to the best. I had moved them into my garden and they were
doing fine. One day I took off my vest as I was working and hung it on
one of these trees. Suddenly my attention was attracted to the sky and I
never saw a more beautiful sight. A horde of grasshoppers were gently
alighting. Nothing more beautiful than the shimmering of the sun on
their thousands of gold-bronze wings could be imagined. They took
everything and then passed on leaving gardens looking as if they had
been burned. When I went for that vest, they had eaten it all but the