What was my idea in driving cows?
"They are faster than oxen," I said, "and they'll make a start in stock
for me when I get on my farm; and they give milk when you're traveling.
I traded my horses for my first cows, and I've been trading one sound
cow for two lame ones all along the road. I've got some more back
along the way."
"Right peart notion," said he. "I reckon you'll do for Iowa. Where you
goin'?"
Then I explained about my farm, and my problem in finding it.
"Oh, that's easy!" said he. "Oh, Mr. Burns!" he called to a man standing
in a doorway across the street. "Come over here, if you can make it
suit. He's a land-locater," he explained to me. "Makes it a business to
help newcomers like you to get located. Nice man, too."
By this time Henderson L. Burns had started across the street. He was
dressed stylishly, and came with a sort of prance, his head up and his
nostrils flaring like a Jersey bull's, looking as popular as a man could
appear. We always called him "Henderson L." to set him apart from Hiram
L. Burns, a lawyer that tried to practise here for a few years, and
didn't make much of an out of it.
"Mr. Burns," said Pitt Bushyager, "this is Mr.--"
"Vandemark," said I: "Jacob Vandemark"--you see I did not know then that
my correct name is Jacobus.
"Mine's Bushyager," said he, "Pitt Bushyager, Got a raft of brothers and
sisters--so you'll know us better after a while. Mr. Burns, this is Mr.
Vandemark.
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