The other line, it is true, had no disappointments for us. It even yielded the discovery and possession of an original parchment pedigree, signed by an official herald of arms, which the ancestor had brought over with him, exhibiting his descent from the many Sir Williams and Sir Johns of an ancient Lincolnshire family extending back nearly to the Conqueror. It also enabled us to confirm the connection through official sources in England, and to prove that the emigrant was the son and heir in the line of primogeniture. For these kind favors, we trust that we were truly thankful. But they could scarcely comfort us for the lost papers which might have carried back another line in the same distinguished fashion. Thus, genealogy has its griefs as well as its joys--some disappointments among many triumphs. But so it is with life and with everything worth while. Who would care to measure skill with a gamefish if the creature had no chance? Or who would glory in the death of a bull-moose that a look could bowl over? In genealogical research it is the part played by skill and by the unknown quantities which gives to it all the fascination, with none of the risks and evils, of a great game of skill and chance. Another pleasure is the sensation of original discovery. Would you experience the feelings of a Columbus? Then set forth to explore the unsailed seas and hidden continents of your own or some other person's ancestry! If your own happens to be virgin territory you are one of fortune's favorites, with the ripest joys of life just before you. Nor is it any question of great achievements or high social position enjoyed by the ancestor. The truth is that all ancestors are remarkable persons. In the first place they are _our_ ancestors, and in the second place it is a noteworthy fact, as mysterious as delightful, that every homely feature about them wears a wondrous glamour and dignity. Their homesteads, their property, their church affiliations, their signatures, any little act of barter or sale,--all these items create an absorbing interest as they stand recorded in old archives. We remember, as if it were yesterday, the peculiar charm of the simplest details in clearing up our family history. The most that parents, aunts and great-uncles could give was a vague tradition of a certain great-great-grandfather, a captain in the Revolution whose chief distinction seemed to have been his success in getting captured by the British and having his silver knee buckles stolen by a Tory. Of course he subsequently escaped, met that Tory, knocked him down, and recaptured the silver buckles.