Did the Mound-builders once stand in battle array
And fight 'round the fort, as we call it today?

Or was it a spot where by moonlight the fairy
Would dance on the knoll overlooking the prairie?

It was one time our playground; the old schoolhouse stood
On the hill by the graveyard, and there was the wood
Where we wandered and clambered the hazels among
And played we were Indians and hunted and sung.
How often that ditch we then followed around;
We knew every sapling and tree on the ground.

The trees are now gone and the ditch will soon fill,
But ever in memory we'll cherish them still."

The ditch has filled. There are a few of us who played there in childhood left to cherish its memory, and that of the happy days spent there. But the little mound on the hill will soon cover us, too. We shall mingle our dust with that of the men who built the fort, and in days to come will be no more known than they are now.

FROM NEW ENGLAND TO LAKE SUPERIOR (1854).

BY LT. GOV. 0. W. ROBINSON.*

In May, 1854, the writer, then 19 years old, left a New Hampshire country town, in company with several gentlemen, one lady (an aunt), her three-year-old daughter, and a sister 13 years old, for the almost unknown copper regions of Lake Superior; Ontonagon, Mich., being our point of destination.

The route was by rail to Buffalo, N. Y. At Buffalo we boarded the steamer Mayflower, one of a line of magnificent packet steamers then plying between Buffalo and Detroit. Arriving at Detroit, the party went to the old Railroad hotel, a low, wooden structure, with several wings and additions, resembling an old-fashioned country tavern more than a city hotel. It was located on the present site of the Detroit opera house. Here we remained five days, awaiting the departure of a boat for Sault Ste. Marie. At Detroit we embarked on the propeller Northerner, bound for the Soo.

The journey up the Detroit river, across Lake St. Clair, and up the St. Clair river was delightful; but in crossing Saginaw bay we encountered heavy seas that made nearly all on board seasick, an experience by no means pleasant, but entirely new to our company. The scenery along the St. Mary's river, with its hundreds of wooded islands, was magnificent, and most charming. Arriving at the Soo, it was necessary to break bulk and make the portage around the falls (the first canal was not completed until 1855). Here we met a motley crowd of people, cosmopolitan in character. There was the proud army officer, with his gold braid and brass buttons; the common soldier in regulation uniform; the Chippewa Indians arrayed in their gaudy-colored blankets, leggins, and beaded moccasins; the business men and common laborers from many nations, and a confusion of tongues equal to that of "Babel."

*Orrin W. Robinson, of Chassell, Houghton county, was born in Claremont, August 12, 1834, where he acquired a district school education. At the age of 19 years he moved to Ontonagon, Mich., where he remained two years, employed in the mines, and then started for Green Bay, Wis., making an overland trip with snow shoes, while the provisions and blankets were carried by dog-train. He camped in the woods nights, taking about two weeks to make the trip. From Green Bay he went to Kossuth county, Iowa. Returning to Hancock, Mich., he engaged as receiving and shipping clerk for the Quincy mine, which occupation he followed 12 years. In 1873 he organized the Sturgeon River Lumber Co., and built mills at Hancock, which were removed to Chassell in the fall of 1887, and he has been superintendent of the company since its organization. He has served as deputy collector of customs, superintendent of the poor for Houghton county; was delegate to the national convention in 1892; served in the house in 1895 and the senate in 1897; and elected lieutenant governor in 1899. Closely identified with all the public improvements of his district, he has witnessed the change from a frontier wilderness to a civilized and prosperous country.

Leaving the Northerner, we, together with our personal baggage, were transferred to small flat cars, passengers and baggage being promiscuously intermixed, and taken across the portage, a distance of about two miles, to the village of Sault Ste. Marie, situated on the shore of Lake Superior.

The railroad over which these cars passed consisted of wooden rails strapped with iron, while the motive power consisted of several small mules. Arriving at the village, we went to the Chippewa house.

Soon after entering the hotel, and while the newly-arrived passengers were lounging about the parlor, there entered a giant nearly seven feet tall, broad-shouldered, and otherwise well proportioned. He was dressed in a white blanket coat, buckskin trousers, a vest of continental style made of loon skins, a black slouch hat and beaded moccasins. After passing around the room, peering into the faces of both men and women, he fastened his gaze upon me, and holding out his hand, demanded in a "fog-horn" voice, "Give me that quarter you owe me." Somewhat frightened, I timidly asked, "What do I owe you a quarter for?" The answer came loud and fierce, "For taking care of your dog coming up on the boat." As I had no dog, and knew he had not been on the boat during the passage, I summoned my nerve and told him to go to a place supposed to be much hotter than the Soo. To this reply he laughed most heartily, patted me on the head, and said, "You'll get along all right, my boy," and walked out of the room. He was but one of the many quaint characters met with on Lake Superior in the early days.

We remained at the Soo two days while the freight was being transported from the Northerner, lying at the foot of the rapids, to the propeller Baltimore, lying at the head of the rapids, in the waters of Lake Superior. The route for transporting the freight was over the same railroad and by the same mule power that had taken us to the hotel. Everything being in readiness, we bade good-bye to the genial landlord and his excellent wife, Mr. and Mrs. Van Anden, and went on board the Baltimore, one of the three small craft then constituting the Lake Superior fleet propelled by steam, and started on the home stretch for our destination.

I might here state that these three boats, the Sam Ward, Manhattan, and Baltimore, a few years previous to this time had been taken from the lower lakes, and by means of runways or skids, had been hauled overland around the St. Mary's rapids, a distance of about two miles, and launched in the waters of Lake Superior.

Keeping very close to the above, we had an excellent view of the Pictured Rocks, the most magnificent scenery in Michigan, and arrived