My father helped to grade this enclosure. They drew in sand from the
sand ridge back of the yard, from where the government barn now stands,
with one-horse carts.
Father was very fond of Indian bread which he called "Johnny cake." When
mother had wheat bread for the rest of us she often baked a "Johnny cake"
for him. One day he took a little "Johnny cake," a cup of butter and some
venison, in his little tin pail, for his dinner. He left it as usual in
the workshop. At noon he partook of his humble repast. He said he left a
piece of his "Johnny cake" and some butter. He thought that would make
him a lunch at night, when his day's work was done and he started home.
He went for his pail and found that his lunch was gone, and in place of
it a beautiful pocket knife.
He said there were two or three government officers viewing and
inspecting the arsenal and ground that day. He said they went into the
shop where he left his dinner pail and lunch. He was sure they were the
ones who took his lunch. He said they knew what was good, for they ate
all the "Johnny cake" and butter he had left. The knife was left open and
he thought they forgot and left it through mistake.
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