My Trip to the North

     The seventh of May 1885, dawned cold, windy, and cheerless.  Rather a discouraging day to out alone for our new home in the North, nevertheless the day was set, I thought I might as well make a break one time or another, so we climbed into the wagon and started.  The roads had not fairly settled; the horses were young and the sound of the wagon rambling along made them feel frisky so they dashed along at a lively pace through the mud our shrills rising accordingly until on looking around we discovered that the trunk and satchel were completely bespattered.  What to do we didn't know; so we didn't do anything but drive on; when we reached the depot we wiped off the satchel, as well as we could but as for the trunk well my heart was getting too shaky to care how that looked, so I left the mud to rattle off when it got ready.  I was to have a weary two hours wait at Wayne so Don went with me to help to break the monotony.  

     From Dexter to Wayne you [nearly...?] all know the road.  If you don't you know as much as I do so I won't say anything about it.

     While waiting at Wayne we stayed in the depot most of the time, as there was a raw wind blowing, and there wasn't much to interest us outside; for about an hour we were its sole occupants and as we were not to meet again for several months I fealt [sic] as though we ought to have a good deal to say but there was a queer lump in my throat so I didn't talk much.  My journey from Wayne to East Saginaw was much the same as from Dexter to Wayne.  I employed my my [sic] time looking out of the window and seeing nothing.

     I can remember no more about the road than as though I had never been over it.  Henry had written me not to let the burnt pine [sic] district through [sic] I was to pass on my way from Saginaw to Manistee make me homesick as the country to which I was going was nothing like that.  This of course aroused my curiosity and I determined to see all I could of it, and dreary enough I found it: for miles and all that could be seen was [sic] those scarred and blackened timber reaching up to [sic] 50, 60, 80 feet .  straight [sic] into the air with now and then a small clearing in which stood a little one story and should judge one roomed cottage.  It seemed to me that the cottagers had a sorry prospect of getting a living out of the dead sand around those [prime....? stumps....?].  The villages as far as I could see seemed compose mostly of sawdust and [pine...?] slabs.

     There were two conductors on the train one taking charge of the train in general the other of the chair car.  The regular conductor was very much put out with me because he wanted me to give him twenty five cents and take the chair car but as I had a good seat and good company I didn't [propose...?] to do it.  after [sic] that he wouldn't answer a question civililly [sic].  By and by I heard that we must change again at Manistee junction as I had not expected this it worried me a good deal so I asked the conductor if it was true.  He said "yes you will have to change now if you had taken a chair car you wouldn't," and passed on.  I determined not to ask him any more questions but, as I was the only lady going to Manistee, and as I hated to change cars alone in the night I was in a dilemma.  but [sic] just before we reached the junction the conductor of the chair car came in and kindly asked me into his car, saying that I was the only lady going on and the men would probably be smoking so that it wouldn't be pleasant.  I thankfully accepted the invitation and traveled in peace the rest of the way.

     As we were nearing Manistee the conductor asked if any one would meet me or if he should secure me a buss.  I told him my husband would meet me.

     But when I got out on the platform no husband was to be found.  the [sic] wind was blowing and the sky was black with clouds all I could was a crowd of rough looking men in front of the depot and a few busses.  For an instant I was completely dumbfounded.  then [sic] I saw that I must get my wits about me and be quick about it too or the busses would all be gone, and I would be left friendless and alone on the streets of a strange city at eleven o'clock at night.  

     Henry had told me where to go should he fail to there and I was just on the point of hailing a buss when the friendly conductor seeing me alone asked if my husband hadn't come [sic] receiving a negative answer he asked what he told me to do in case he wasn't there [sic] I said he told me to go to the [Dunham...?] house he said all right I will get you a buss so he loaded my bundles into one and told the driver where to go.

     As we were rattleing [sic] along I was wondering what had become of H. as soon as I reached the I asked if anything had happened to  the boats [sic] they told me no boats had dared venture out that day, so I knew he was plodding along some where between there and Frankfort.  in about half an hour he arrived and I think a more tired man never entered those doors, he had walked forty miles to meet me.  The next day the wind was blowing as hard as ever, so Henry said we would pretend we were on our wedding trip and we would see the city [sic] but a'las [sic] before we had prepared to go out it began to snow and rain; it kept this up all the fore noon but in the afternoon when there came a lull we started out.  The business part of the city is on quite low ground but the fine residences are on a high hill to reach the top of which we had to climb a long flight of stairs.  The streets were comparatively new and most of the sidewalks were poor so we had to pick our way but we wanted to get a better view of the lake so we kept on.  The lake looked awfully grand with its white-capped waves rolling furiously in producing a deep dull roar that could be heard for miles.  There were some elegant residences in course of erection which we wished to view more closely but it bean to storm again so we hastened back to the hotel.  Next morning the wind was still blowing but as we were anxious to get to our new home we decided to go.  at [sic] first we thought it was not going to be very bad but in less than fifteen minutes we changed our minds.  the [sic] boat rolled furiously the water dashed on to the deck and washed into the cabin.  Henry turned pale and rushed out the cabin door when he came back he said he had been emptying his fifty cent breakfast into the nasty deep.  I hadn't been sick before, but with the next heavy swell I turned dreadfully faint, the jolly cabin boy rushed in with a pail none too soon either.  Once while an indian [sic] boy was taking a nap on one of the cabin benches the boat gave a sudden lurch and the poor indian [sic] came rolling across the cabin floor, and the cabin floor of a small boat in a heavy sea is not a desirable place to be rolling on I can tell you.  At last after three hour of seasickness we reached Frankfort harbor.  We were too sick to want any dinner and about one o'clock we started for [Benzonia...?] with one of our neighbors.  This part of our journey was uneventful so I will not describe it.