In 1877 the governor, in his message to the legislature, treated the subject exhaustively, and appropriations were made to relieve the settlers in the devastated regions. In the early spring of 1877, the religious bodies and people of the state asked the governor to issue a proclamation appointing a day of fasting and prayer, asking Divine protection, and exhorting the people to greater humility and a new consecration in the service of a merciful Father. The governor, being of Puritan origin, and a faithful believer in Divine agencies in this world's affairs, issued an eloquent appeal to the people to observe a day named as one of fasting and prayer for deliverance from the grasshoppers. The suggestion was quite generally approved, but the proclamation naturally excited much criticism and some ridicule, but, curious as it may seem, the grasshoppers, even before the day appointed for prayer arrived, began to disappear, and in a short time not one remained to show they had ever been in the state. They left in a body; no one seemed to know exactly when they went, and no one knew anything about where they went, as they were never heard of again on any part of the continent. The only news we ever had from them came from ships crossing the Atlantic westward bound, which reported having passed through large areas of floating insects. They must have met a western gale when well up in air, and have been blown out into the sea and destroyed. The people of Minnesota did not expend much trouble or time to find out what had become of them. The crop of 1877 was abundant, and particularly so in the region which had been most seriously blighted by the pests. Before the final proclamation of Governor Pillsbury every source of ingenuity had been exhausted in devising plans for the destruction of the grasshoppers. Ditches were dug around the fields of grain, and ropes drawn over the grain to drive the hoppers into them, with the purpose of covering them with earth. Instruments called "hopperdozers" were invented, which had receptacles filled with hot tar, and were driven over the ground to catch them as flies are caught with tanglefoot paper, and many millions of them were destroyed in this way, but it was about as effectual as fighting a Northwestern blizzard with a lady's fan, and they were all abandoned as useless and powerless to cope with the scourge. Nothing proved effectual but the governor's proclamation, and all the old settlers called it "Pillsbury's Best," which was the name of the celebrated brand of flour made at the governor's mills.