228 AT THE SIGN OF THE STOCK YARD INN 



tremendous trade with every section of the Union. 

 Special trains pull in from time to time from Chi- 

 cago. Statesmen, captains of high finance, cabinet 

 ministers, envoys of foreign powers, dignitaries from 

 the ends of the earth and students from abroad, as 

 well as from our own farming communities, count 

 it a pleasure and a privilege to spend a day at the 

 great show place of the middle west. 



And then one sad day a long funeral cortege 

 passing down the Elgin road. Death ever loved the 

 shining target. A band of coal-black Percheron 

 fillies tramping in single file alongside in the pasture, 

 stopping only at the fence that marks the end of 

 their late master's landed possessions an uncon- 

 scious farewell from the fields! 



But how shall we supply the wealth of detail 

 necessary to complete these pictures? Impossible. 

 We can only sketch. 



As a young man I spent several short vacations 

 at the old brick cottage the birthplace of MARK 

 DUNHAM, as well as of his son and successor, 

 WIRTH. The latter was then a child romping under 

 the oaks with a little red wagon. I grew into my 

 own vocation during the period of Oaklawn's 

 astounding creation, and I know of kindly acts and 

 spoken words that angels in heaven must have 



