Before it was fully dark the farm wagon had covered the distance of some fourteen miles from the city, traveling nearly all the way in a diagonal, southeasterly direction, and had wound up at the home of William Matney, on Lynn Creek, a mile below Tevis. The ride was a wonderful experience for the little Newcomers. They soon learned that one of the horses was named Greeley and the other Banks; but it was some years before they understood that these names indicated that the owner was a Democrat who knew the names of the candidates upon his ticket some five years before, when the horses were colts. The autumn sky was beautiful, and the light frosts had given a brown tinge to the prairie, and it seemed to them that every breath of air was a draught of the elixir of life.
That evening dozens of persons from ten miles around called at the Matney home to welcome and visit with the Newcomers. They were nearly all old-timers, and they represented former inhabitants of at least seven of the States of the United States and three foreign countries. There was a Yankee from Maine, a Digger from the hills of North Carolina, a Mudsucker from Illinois, and all kinds of Corncrackers from Kentucky, besides a fine old Englishman and a sturdy German; and they told the Newcomer boys that the school-teacher was a Scotchman who talked through his nose and said lots of funny things, and that further up the creek lived a Manxman by the name of Quayle. It seems that Kansas had gathered these people from many corners of the earth, to the end that they might be blended into a new people with a new spirit that should mark the character of a new State.
The Newcomers did not know that they were newcomers for some days, nor until they heard people calling them by that name. One day one of the boys rode with John Oliver to Carbondale; and as Oliver pulled up to the sidewalk in front of a store, someone called out, "John, where did you get that kid?" And John answered, "He belongs to a newcomer just moved on the crick. He's got a whole passel of 'em. I seed this 'un in the road and fetched him along." John Oliver was from Tennessee, and he had his own peculiar way of expressing himself. He was a lot of fun for the Yankee neighbor.
The Newcomers were soon settled in a house of their own near the present site of the stone bridge, and every day of that glorious fall and winter was a day of enjoyment to them; and over and over, as they gathered around the big fireplace of an evening, they rejoiced together because of the glorious welcome that Kansas had given them, and of the more glorious welcome, if possible, that had been given to them by the people of Kansas — old and newcomers — from so many different lands, with so many different ideas and so many different ways and habits, yet all filled with that exaltation which came to them like a breath of freedom from the prairie, and has made them and others like them into a new race, filled with a new spirit, which we call Kansas.
An Old Timer
During the midsummer of 1854, James Lynn and William Lynn started across the prairies from Westport, Missouri, to find homes in Kansas. With a stalwart pair of oxen yoked to a heavy wagon they proceeded slowly but surely westward, and finally, following up the Wakarusa Valley and out along one of its tributaries, they camped one night after a blistering hot August day near a spring that flowed from among a pile of stones and boulders that had been deposited at that point in great abundance by some glacier that must have covered this part of Kansas centuries ago. The flowing spring reminded them of Kentucky, and they concluded that then and there one of them had found a home. James Lynn drove his stake into the ground and said that it was his. Afterwards they traveled further up the little stream and located another claim, and William Lynn marked it and claimed it for his own. The location of these two settlements caused the little stream to be named Lynn Creek, and so it is known from the hills among which it rises on through Berryton, Tevis, and into Wakarusa near Richland.
The hardships of pioneer life were too much for James Lynn, and he died within a few years after their settlement; but William Lynn weathered the storm and lived upon the land thus picked out by him on that August day until his death, which occurred in February, 1908. At the time of his death he had lived in Kansas nearly fifty-four years, and he was then one hundred and two years old. When it was found that he was dead, one of his sons called one of the Newcomer boys, who then lived in Topeka, over the phone and said: "Pap is dead. You know he never was much as to churches, and we just thought that we would ask you to come out and say something at his funeral."