That necessity is truly the mother of invention was often demonstrated in pioneer days. I recall a novel arrangement for grinding or pounding corn, constructed by Delamore Duncan. A large stump near the house was hollowed out at the top and a spring-board set in place projecting over the top of the house and a pestle at the end completed the mill or stump mortar. With this the meal for bread for the family was prepared. The Indian burying ground in the north-west part of the township had great interest for the new-comers. I remember visiting it when there were three "cribs" with their occupants, still standing. My knowledge of farming when I came to Michigan was necessarily limited. But the season following our arrival I was introduced to a pair of oxen and a harrow. With my ball in my pocket I started out to prepare a few acres for the sowing of wheat. But no wheat was sown in that field that season. The oxen were slow and my ball required so much attention that by the time I finished harrowing the volunteer wheat had made such a growth sowing was unnecessary. The yield from the field was forty bushels per acre. One memorable night November 13, 1833, our household was awakened by Dr. Nathan Thomas who was on a professional visit to the neighborhood and we all left our beds and went out to witness the great meteoric shower never to be forgotten. The meat supply in the neighborhood sometimes ran low, and thereby hangs a tale. One Harry Smith, came to our home one day to borrow a horse and wagon to drive to Mr. Bishop's, who lived on the north-west side of the prairie. Mr. Smith had a large family, and they were out of meat, and he had heard Mr. Bishop had some to spare. But on reaching there he was told they had no more than would be needed for the family. Mr. Smith, rather crest-fallen, started to return home, but on second thought went back to the house and told Mr. Bishop if he would lend him a bone he would take it home and season some beans and return it. This so greatly pleased Mr. Bishop that he told Mr. Smith he would divide his meat with him, and one meat-hungry family rejoiced that day. Improved roads, the railway, the telegraph, the telephone, and other Edisonian inventions, have shortened distances since those early days. And yet I fancy were I to walk from the site of the Old Branch in Kalamazoo, to Prairie Ronde, the distance would seem much greater than it did sixty years ago, when I sometimes walked home from school Saturday afternoon.