Since this book is so small I will send the rest of the stories that are in the book. Not all at once - anecdote by anecdote as my time allows. Enjoy! FROM THE FIRELANDS - The first regular settlement on these was in 1808. The few inhabitants were isolated and suffered much for want of food and clothing. They subsisted much of the time on parched and pounded corn, together with wild meat. It is recorded that once upon a time, a hunter rapped at a cabin door, and was bidden enter by a feeble voice from within. Doing so, he found a pale emanciated woman sitting by the fire, holding a puny babe. On beholding him, the women burst into tears. Soon recovering herself, she pointed to the bed saying, "There is my little Edward, I expect he is dying; here is my babe so sick I cannot lay it down. I am so feeble I can scarce remain in my chair, and poor husband lies buried beside the cabin. Oh, that I could fall into my mother's arms!" It was only one of many similar scenes incident to pioneer life on the Reserve. In my early boyhood I used to fish with a young lawyer, named "Thom" Johnson, residing near Seville, Medina County. On one occasion he told me, that whilst hunting on the Fire Lands sometime in the thirties, he, together with two or three others, became lost in the forest and did not find a clearing until late in the evening. Making their way to a log house, in thecenter of this, they found it occupied by a lone woman. Stating their case, they asked supper and lodging. The woman told them she had nothing but a little meal and some milk. From the meal she made a johnnycake and of this and the milk, they partook with a relish and then retired to bed. During the entire night, the hostess busied herself grating the glazing corn on the bottom of a pan punched full of holes, in order to have the wherewith to breakfast her guests. The frugal meal over, they asked for their bill. "O, nothing," was the reply. A five dollar bill was placed in her hands, and the hunters pursued their way as well satisfied as though they had lodged at a hotel. Those were the days of genuine, unselfish pioneer hospitality. The following, from Howe's "Historical Collections of Ohio," shows something of the early penchant for visiting: "A gentleman settled with his family about two miles west of Vermillion River without a neighbor near him. Soon after, a man and wife settled on the opposite side of the river, about three miles distant. The lady on the westside was very anxious to meet her east-side neighbor, and sent her a message stating when she would make her a visit. At the appointed time she went with her husband to the river but found it so swollen from recent rains as to render it impossible to cross on foot. There was no canoe or horse in that part of the country. The obstacle was apparently insurmountable. Fortunately, the man on the other side was fertile in expedients; he yoked up his oxen anticipating the event, and arrived at the river just as the others were about leaving. Springing upon the back of one of the oxen, he rode him across the river, and when he had reached the west bank, the lady, Europa-like, fearlessly sprang upon the back of the other, and was borne safely across the surging waters, and safely landed upon the opposite bank. When her visit was concluded, she returned in the same manner."