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I have before me the copy of the Journal little four-page sheet yellowed with time, with the account of it which follows: "A desperado named Vandemark, well known to the annals of local crime as 'Cow Vandemark, was arrested last Wednesday for leading the riots which have cleaned out those industrious citizens who have been jumping claims in this county.
Jacob H. Vandemark." "Jacob T. Vandemark," said I. "Why, damn me," said he, looking again at his book, "it is a 'T. Lawyer's writing, Jacob, lawyer's writing notoriously bad, you know." I sat thinking about the expression, "the interests of Jacob T. Vandemark," for a long time; but the truth did not dawn an me, my mind working slowly as usual. "What interests?" I asked finally.
"I expect one of these days to be one of the old residenters of Monterey County myself. I am a fellow-sufferer with you, Mr. Vandemark I also have land there. Won't you and the doctor join me in a night-cap in honor of our neighborship; and drink to better acquaintance? And let's invite our fellow wayfarers, too. I have some game for them."
In addition to placing the young man under Christian influences, and others, it has unearthed a patch of the biggest, best, ripest and sweetest wild strawberries in Monterey County on the ancestral estate of the criminal, known as Vandemark's Folly, and by the use of prison labor, and through the generosity and public spirit of our rising young fellow-citizen, Jacob T. Vandemark whom we hereby salute we are promised another strawberry festival before the crop is gone.
Then their work could be compared, they could be made to work against one another in a kind of competition, and the bad ones could be weeded out. It would be the same with corn-plowing, and some other work. "There's sense in that, sir," he said, after thinking it over. "You see, Mr. Vandemark, my days of honest industry are of very recent date. Thank you for the suggestion, sir."
"Look like me?" "It will when it gits older." "When you go back," said he, "if I don't, will you do me and this little offspring of mine and its mother a favor?" "I'll have to wait and see what it is," said I. "Same old cautious Vandemark!" said he, laughing. "Well, that's why I picked you to do this, if you will be so good.
State politics, the very government of the commonwealth, the history of Monterey County and of Vandemark Township, were all changed when Buck Gowdy went off over the prairie that day, holding Rowena Fewkes in the buggy seat with that big brawny arm of his. Ma Fewkes seemed delighted to see Mr. Gowdy holding her daughter in the buggy.
Before starting-time in the morning, I had swapped two of my driving cows for four of their lame ones, and hauled up by the side of the road until I could break my new animals to the yoke and allow them to recuperate. I am a cattleman by nature, and was more greedy for stock than anxious to make time maybe that's another reason for being called Cow Vandemark.
I worked out an epitaph which Doctor Mix, who seemed to see through the case pretty well, put into good language, reading as follows: "Here lies the body of Mary Brouwer Vandemark, born in Ulster County, New York, in 1815; died Madison, Wisconsin, October 19, 1854. Erected to her memory by her son, Jacob T. Vandemark."
He even waited while I dickered with Jim Boyd for a breaking plow, which I admitted I should need the first thing, as soon as Jim mentioned it to me . The date on the deed shows this to have been May 25, 1855 the day the author first saw what has since become Vandemark Township. Although its history is so far written, the township was not yet legally in existence. G.v.d.M. "This is Mr.
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