To and Through Nebraska

by Frances I. Sims Fulton

How glad we are to reach Stuart at last, and to be welcomed by Mrs. Wood in the "wee sma'" hours with: "Glad you are safe back."

Stuart at the opening of 1880 was an almost untouched prairie spot, 219 miles from Missouri Valley, Iowa; but in July, 1880, Mr. John Carberry brought his family from Atkinson, and they had a "Fourth" all to themselves on their newly taken homestead, which now forms a part of the town plat, surveyed in the fall of '81; at that time having but two occupants, Carberry and Halleck. In November, the same year, the first train puffed into the new town of Stuart, so named, in honor of Peter Stuart, a Scotchman living on a homestead adjoining the town-site on the south.

Reader, do you know how an oil town is built up? Well, the building up of a town along the line of a western railroad that opens up a new, rich country, is very much the same. One by one they gather at first, until the territory is tested, then in numbers, coming from everywhere.

But the soil of Nebraska is more lasting than the hidden sea of oil of Pennsylvania, so about the only difference is that the western town is permanent. Temporary buildings are quickly erected at first, and then the substantial ones when time and money are more plenty.

So "stirring Stuart" gathered, until we now count one church (Pres.), which was used for a school room last winter, two hotels, two general stores, principal of which is Mr. John Skirving, two hardware and farm implement stores, one drug store, two lumber yards, a harness and blacksmith shop, and a bank.

Not far from Stuart, I am told, was an Indian camping ground, which was visited but two years ago by about a hundred of them, "tenting again on the old camp ground." And I doubt not but that the winding Elkhorn has here looked on wilder scenes than it did on the morning of the 27th of April, '83, when the little party of 65 colonists stepped down and out from their homes in the old "Keystone" into the "promised land," and shot at the telegraph pole, and missed it. But I will not repeat the story of the first chapter.

Now that the old year of '83 has fled since the time of which I have written, I must add what improvements, or a few at least, that the lapse of time has brought to the little town that can very appropriately be termed "the Plymouth rock of the N.M.A.C."

From The Stuart Ledger we quote: The Methodists have organized with a membership of twenty-four, and steps have been taken for the building of a church. Services now held every alternate Sunday by Rev. Mallory, of Keya Paha, in the Presbyterian church, of which Rev. Benson is pastor. Union Sunday school meets every Sunday, also the Band of Hope, a temperance organization. A new school house, 24×42, where over 60 children gather to be instructed by Mr. C. A. Manville and Miss Mamie Woods. An opera house 22×60, two stories high, Mrs. Arter's building, 18×24, two stories. Two M.D.'s have been added, a dentist, and a photographer. It is useless to attempt to quote all, so will close with music from the Stuart Cornet Band. From a letter received from "Sunny Side" from the pen of Mrs. W. W. Warner, Dec. 24: "Population of Stuart is now 382, an increase of 70 within the last two months. Building is still progressing, and emigrants continue to come in their 'schooners.'

"No good government land to be had near town. Soil from one to three feet deep. First frost Oct. 11. First snow, middle of November, hardly enough to speak of, and no more until 22d of December."

But to return to our story. My "Saratoga" was a "traveling companion"; of my own thinking up, but much more convenient, and which served as satchel and pillow. For the benefit of lady readers, I will describe its make-up. Two yards of cloth, desired width, bind ends with tape, and work corresponding eyelet holes in both ends, and put on pockets, closed with buttons, and then fold the ends to the middle of the cloth, and sew up the sides, a string to lace the ends together, and your satchel is ready to put your dress skirts, or mine at least, in full length; roll or fold the satchel, and use a shawl-strap. I did not want to be burdened and annoyed with a trunk, and improvised the above, and was really surprised at its worth as a traveling companion; so much can be carried, and smoother than if folded in a trunk or common satchel; and also used as a pillow. This with a convenient hand-satchel was all I used. These packed, and good-byes said to the remaining colonists, and the dear friends that had been friends indeed to me, and kissing "wee Nellie" last of all, I bid farewell to Stuart.