Taken from “A Son of the Middle Border” by Hamlin Garland
All of this universe known to me in the Year of 1864 was bounded by the wooded hills of a little Wisconsin coulee, and its center was the cottage in which my mother was living alone_my father was in the war. As I project myself back into that mystical age, half lights cover most of the valley. The road before our door stone begins and ends in vague obscurity_and Granma Green’s house at the fork of the trail stands on the very edge of the world in a sinister region peopled with bears and other menacing creatures. Beyond this point all is darkness and terror.
On Tiffany Creek 