THE BROCKWAY BOYS. 91 



strong, and could beat us all at jumping, and was one of 

 the younger sons of the oldest of the brothers, Eusebius, 

 or Uncle Sebe, as he was called a man who, at sixty-nine 

 years of age, was entered 'for a foot-race the first day I 

 saw him. Martin and Oliver were smaller boys, sons of 

 Erastus, who, by the way, was many years younger than 

 his brother, physically much weaker, but intellectually 

 stronger. Jim could throw me by sheer weight and 

 strength; Clark or the others of his age could not, for 

 wrestling and boxing had been my study as well as play. 

 This put me on a good square footing with my backwoods 

 cousins, who had little respect for my soft hands and city 

 ways. They had small facilities for schooling, but great 

 opportunities for clearing land for the plough, chopping 

 trees that had been deadened by the girdle, piling great 

 logs for burning that a few years later would have been 

 worth more than the land originally cost. Harvesting 

 the hard-earned crops had given them a rude strength 

 that made it seem incomprehensible how a city boy, who 

 couldn't pitch a fork full of hay into the mow, could lay 

 them on their backs. From a subject for ridicule this 

 city boy came to be respected, especially when they found 

 that he could turn a back somersault from the floor and 

 alight on his feet. They had seen pictures of such things, 

 but to find an ordinary boy outside a circus turn a flip- 

 flap was a thing that made him a hero. My city manners 

 and fine fishing tackle were all forgotten, and the Brock- 

 way boys from far and near were invited to come and see 

 their cousin, who in a few hours had overcome all preju- 

 dice and was voted to be a really decent fellow. 



Said Jim: "Let's go a-fishin'; what yer say? We'll take 

 a team and wagon and go over to the River Raisin and 

 have a good time yes?" And we went, about six of us. 

 There was William, twenty-eight years old, a hunter of 



