While unlimited resources lay at the very doors of these pioneer cabins, the backwoodsmen lacked the facilities for developing them. Their tastes were not so exacting as in later days, and beyond the sheer necessities and comforts of the household, ambition did not spur them on. While ordinarily the family dined on homely fare, the industrious housewife often became so proficient in the culinary art as to be able to concoct most tempting dishes with the raw products that nature placed in easy reach. The sap of the maple tree, wild grapes, paw paws, and persimmons, as well as the products of garden, orchard, and field were utilized in providing for their physical wants. Persimmons ripened with the early frosts, and when put up in maple syrup, became a staple and most delicious article of diet. By the addition of the proper quantity of whiskey, the standard remedy for most of the ills the flesh is heir to, the mixture afforded in addition to its other virtues, a sure cure for ague, commonly called “ager.” This led to an episode in which little Jack and three older brothers were the leading figures, and which he facetiously labeled “a short cut in the study of astronomy.” The children were left alone one afternoon. The oldest of the quartet was familiar with the process of preparing the common ague antidote. The necessary ingredients were, as usual, within easy reach. So he proceeded to administer the remedy to his younger brothers on the principle that “if a little did good, more would do better.” The bearing of this procedure upon the science of astronomy becomes apparent when we remember that among the unschooled of that day it was a mooted question as to whether or not the world is round and revolves upon its axis, as the geographies teach. Jack declared that after taking a few doses it was painfully evident to him that the world did turn round and turned at such a rapid rate that he found it difficult to keep from falling off. When the mother returned she found the three younger boys lying on the floor unconscious, and the author of the mischief sitting astride a joist overhead the unceiled room in a hilarious condition. By the free use of sweet milk the younger boys were restored to consciousness, but a special treatment was reserved for the one who led them into temptation. However, Jack found this short course in astronomy sufficient for all practical purposes, and he has never had the occasion or inclination to extend it. His early years were as happy and free from care amid these primitive surroundings, as childhood life could well be, even in what might be considered more favorable circumstances. Life was simple in the extreme, even crude, but it was the best he knew. There was nothing in the lives of his associates calculated to excite envy or cause discontent with his own lot. But in this connection one incident stands out in bold relief to mar the picture of boyish contentment.