After the breaking up at Long Prairie, a few months were spent by our family in St. Paul, but in the early spring it seemed expedient to remove to "St Anthony," which has ever since been our home. It was at that time a very quiet village; very many of the young and vigorous men were at the front, and business was at a standstill; property was very cheap, and real estate men had little or nothing to do. Minneapolis, on the west side of the river, was a small town, and had any one predicted at that time that the city of Minneapolis would one day become what it is now, he would have been regarded as a lunatic. The Indian outbreak of '62 stirred things up for a while, but that passed away, and the place resumed its sleepy condition, waking up now and then at the news of a victory, or on the occasion of the return of a regiment, to whom an ovation was tendered, when it became manifest that there was a great deal of energy and power latent in the community, which only needed an occasion to bring it out. But the immense water power kept up its music, the mills ground flour and sawed logs and made paper, and, all unconsciously, we were growing great and preparing to become the wonder of the world. When the old settlers get together now-a-days, we like to talk of those pleasant, quiet times, when a ride in a stage to St. Paul was a treat, and a trip to Minnetonka in a double wagon, with provisions and camp fixtures for a week's picnic, was delightful; when we caught fish in Lake Harriet and cooked it at our camp-fire, and had a most enjoyable time rowing on the lake, gathering pond lilies, singing songs, telling stories, and taking in with every breath the delicious, invigorating air of that most charming spot.

And while rejoicing at the present state of things, so far in advance of those times, we sometimes look back regretfully at the days when we seemed like one large family, with common interests, and we involuntarily breathe a sigh for those simple, primitive pleasures, that will be ours nevermore.

No need for me to describe in these humble records the phenomenal growth of Minneapolis; it is known and read of all men, and the world is startled at its rapid transition from a somewhat obscure manufacturing town to a great and prosperous city, whose foundations are so solid, and whose possibilities so great, that there seems no limit to its progress. We who have watched it from infancy are justly proud of our city, and it is certainly cause for congratulation that so much time and thought and money are given to establishing and fostering benevolent institutions and charities of all kinds. The people are large-hearted and ready to take hold of anything which has for its object the good of the community or the amelioration of suffering in any form. Witness our "Home for Children and Aged Women;" the beautiful "Washburn Home for Orphans;" the "Northwestern Hospital," built by and under the care and management of women who have been generously aided by the community in carrying on their work; the "Bethany Home" for fallen, outcast women and deserted babies, a work established by women in weakness and under discouraging circumstances, but now carried on in a commodious building erected by one man who has lived many years in our city and has grown rich here. He has watched our work in this line for years, and his heart was moved to donate to the management of the "Home" the beautiful, convenient house and grounds on Bryant avenue, which shelters sad and broken-hearted women and tender, helpless infants, and stands out clear against the beautiful background of woodland and blue sky, an enduring monument to his large-hearted generosity and his tender pity for the weak and helpless. May God bless him and deal graciously with him and all he loves. These are only a few of the various branches of work for the good of humanity, generously encouraged by our citizens, and the liberality with which societies, conventions and gatherings of all kinds are welcomed and entertained by Minneapolitans astonishes all who see, read or hear of it. Those who saw the great Villard procession and the meeting of the Grand Army of the Republic can never forget them, and religious bodies of all sects and kinds who have been received and cared for here, are loud in their praises of their hospitable entertainers.

But better than all this is the earnest desire that we should become good, as well as great, as manifested in the numerous active societies organized for the purpose of overcoming and suppressing the evils incident to large and prosperous cities; and the eloquent, earnest men of all religious denominations who labor faithfully as preachers and pastors for the highest good of the people are doing grand, efficient work towards the accomplishment of this desire.

And side by side with us, a little way down the river, is our beautiful twin sister, the city of St. Paul, to which by the power of mutual attraction we are growing nearer day by day. The healthy rivalry which has existed between us since we began to grow has benefited both cities, and we now stand before the world phenomenal in growth, each year lengthening our cords and strengthening our stakes, with the sure prospect of becoming, in the near future, a mighty metropolis of the great and powerful Northwest.

The tender friendships formed there by our family during the early days of the war grow stronger and more binding each year, and will last through eternity; our children will tell to their children of the kindness rendered by dear ones in St. Paul to "father and mother" when they were in sore need of loving sympathy, and this legacy of love will be very precious to them. I love to visit this neighboring city, not only because of the warm friendships existing between us, but because that in some indescribable way it seems to have an army atmosphere which makes me feel entirely at home. And sometimes, when, in passing through its streets, I come upon our old, staunch friend, General R. W. Johnson, the thoughts of Fort Snelling, where, years after it ceased to be my home, he won the beautiful Miss Steele for his bride, stir my heart with pleasant memories, and looking at him now, a handsome, white-haired man, still erect and vigorous, I feel that time has dealt very generously with him, and rejoice that after his many years of faithful service to his country he is still doing his duty, and is most happily situated in every respect. And there is General Bishop, one of my husband's "boys" of the brave Minnesota Second, the very sight of whose kindly face brings up thoughts of Mill Spring and other battle fields on which he won his "eagle" and his "star," and it gladdens my heart to feel that he, too, still in his prime, is as brave and faithful a civilian as he was a soldier, and that he has a beautiful, hospitable home, which is a rallying point for the survivors of the old regiment, which he loved so well and commanded so successfully. And there are many other military men there, whom it is an honor to know, and who, with the energy which made them successful soldiers, are working earnestly for the good of St. Paul, where they have made their homes.

When the beautiful Edith, searching the field after the bloody battle of Hastings, found the body of her beloved, the last of the Saxon Kings, she saw right over his heart, as she wiped the blood from his wounded side, two words graven thereon: "Edith," and beneath it "England." So on my heart, among my precious things, stands "Minneapolis," and just beneath it "St. Paul." God bless them both and make them truly good, as well as eminently great.