SOLON ROBINSON, 1842 343 



accustomed eye would fail. 'Twas such an eye that got 

 upon the lost man's trail and followed it near eight 

 miles, where he had pitched forward upon his face — the 

 strong man struggling with the stronger one of death — 

 can you doubt which prevailed? 



Oh how sad, how solemn, how different was this re- 

 turn, from that one before depicted to you, from "the 

 first trip to mill." Then, all was joy and gladness in the 

 emigrant's cabin; now, the wail of wo is poured out in 

 sorrow over the rigid frozen corse, whose next and only 

 trip will be to the dark and silent grave. 



Reader! the motto of this paper is, "to improve the 

 soil as well the mind!" I have given you a subject to 

 improve upon. May you ever be prepared with care and 

 prudent foresight, to guard against the storms that are 

 likely to beset your path through life; and while you 

 gather around your winter firesides, musing over this 

 melancholy tale, let your hearts soften towards those 

 who are buffeting the adverse and chilling blasts of life, 

 and stretch forth the helping hand ere they fall into that 

 cold embrace from which no human hand can warm them 

 into life again. 



I hope many of you have not forgotten that old friend 

 of yours of the Western Prairies, and who you will recog- 

 nise, when I tell you that I am still the same 



Solon Robinson. 



Lake C. H. la. Nov. 25, 1842. 



Cost of a Farm, and Raising Products on the 

 Western Prairies. 



[New York American Agriculturist, 1:338-39; Feb., 1843 1 ] 



[November 25, 1842] 

 No, no, gentleman, "your old friend" is not "lost in 

 a canebrake," 2 nor yet in a snow storm ; although one of 



1 Reprinted in Farmers' Cabinet, and American Herd-Book, 

 7:322 (May 15, 1843), in Prairie Farmer, 3:44-45 (February, 

 1843), and in London New Farmers' Journal, May 22, 1843. 



2 See ante, 329 n. 



24—50109 



