When we arrived at the home of my brother, G. M. Richardson, we found Arthur, Hauter and Highland, with many friends, awaiting us, all pleased to learn that the Richardsons were far from being played out. After dinner, and Amanda (my brother's wife) had taken Mary and me to the kitchen and exhibited their 24-pound turkey for dinner next day, we gathered in the big living room, when even those who were tired were able to tease and tell stories which had the semblance of truth. It was not intended for a Richardson reunion, still there were Richardsons enough to render the occasion one of merriment and joy. Besides mates and friends, the following Richardsons were present. My brother Gordon. His son Perin. His son Merrick. His son Lawrence. His son George. His daughter Gertie. His daughter Elma. Myself--Merrick Abner. My son--Merrick Arthur. And--Vida. [Illustration: BARBARA BEAVER.] We had a high old time, for the Richardsons when teasing are said to be somewhat given to exaggeration, so one can easily understand that when they cut loose no one felt sleepy. BACK HOME The following evening a few of our immediate friends gathered to congratulate us, among whom were two of Vida's college chums, (Bob) Barbary Beaver and (Peter) Fannie Peterson, who with our Weiders made an interesting trio of entertainers. Really, when Bob was acting "When Angelina Johnson Came Swinging Down the Line," one could see the pretty colored girl, right from the cotton fields, shaking her heels to the tune of the "Old Virginia Reel." Peter singing "Maggie, Maggie, the Cows Are in the Clover," was enough to make the most sedate forget themselves, especially the last verse, where Maggie had gone to the county fair and was up in a balloon spooning with her lover, when away in the distance from the kitchen door she faintly heard that old familiar scream, "Maggie, Maggie"-- The cows are in the clover, They've trampled there since morn. Go and drive them, Maggie, To the old red barn. Thus ended our glad, eccentric lark to Channel Lake, but our hikes still continue. Since our Channel Lake episode, our neighbor, Mrs. Wm. F. Kraft, together with Mrs. Richardson and myself, walked in one day to Elgin, thirty miles, and really these two interesting dames did give me a right lively chase. [Illustration: NOT SO LONG AGO, THE RED MEN WITH THEIR SQUAWS AND PAPOOSES GATHERED HERE, WHEN THE LEAVES WERE FALLING, TO CELEBRATE THEIR AUTUMN POWWOWS. SEE PAGE 344.]