ss the land. They must strip
for the race and he would give them a fair start, which accordingly he
did, by marking a line and causing them to toe the line, and then
solemnly giving the word "Go" started the sixteen mile race and retired
to his cabin to enjoy the joke. The young man started off at his best
speed, thinking he had an easy victory before him, but the experienced
old Pigs Eye, knowing it was a sixteen mile race took a stride he could
keep up to the end and placed his notice first on the property; hence
the first name of St. Paul was Pigs Eye. The second and real name was
given by the Missionary Priest, Father Gaultier, who told me that having
occasion to publish the marriage notice of Vitale Guerin, he had to give
the little log confessional on the hill some name, and as St. Croix and
St. Anthony and St. Peter had been honored in this neighborhood, he
thought St. Paul should receive the distinction.

Mr. Reuben Robinson--1850.

Mr. Reuben Robinson, ninety-five years old, says: I came to St. Anthony
and worked at the mill near St. Anthony Falls. A fine bathing place had
been discovered near the mill and was much used by the few women and men
of St. Anthony who came over in boats for the purpose. One day when I
was at work I heard hollering and thought someone must have gone beyond
his depth. I went out and looked around, saw nobody, but still heard the
calling. I finally looked at a pile of logs near the Falls and there saw
a man who was calling for help. I threw a rope to him several times
which he finally was able to grasp and I hauled him in hand over hand.
His clothing was all wet and bedraggled, but a straw hat was still on
his head although it was so wet that the green band had run into the
straw. No trace of his boat was ever found. As soon as he landed, he
took a whiskey flask from his pocket and took a long pull, which
disgusted me very much. I discovered that these long pulls were what was
accountable for his trouble, as he had taken a boat when he was drunk
and had gone too near the Falls.

When we came through Chicago, the mud was up to the hubs everywhere.
Much of the time the bottom of the stage was scraping it. In one deep
hole where the old road had been, a big scantling stuck up with these
words painted on it, "They leave all hope who enter here."

I remember killing a snake over seven feet long down near Minnehaha
Falls. Snakes were very abundant at that time.

When I was in the Indi