Following is a list of the Grange lodges and principal officers for January, 1874:

February 5 and 6, 1881, were the, days of the greatest sleet ever known in this part of the country. The following paragraphs gleaned from a description of the storm, published at the time, may not be uninteresting.

"Saturday morning (5th) the face of the earth was covered with ice, and the sleet, still falling. It continued to fall with scarcely any interruption, through the day, and at bedtime was still falling. The trees were heavily weighted with ice and were bending under the burden. Toward midnight the trees began to succumb to the pressure. From that time continually through the night, at very short intervals, a sharp, brief snap would be heard, and then a ringing, metallic sound as limb after limb parted from the trees, and fell with its icy load upon the icy earth beneath.

"A view of forests, groves and orchards, on Sunday morning was a sight worth seeing, notwithstanding the havoc. Many trees were completely broken down; others had large branches broken off; others had tops and all branches gone, and nothing but the straight trunk remained. The ground underneath looked as if the pruner had been there and left the remains of his work behind him. The trees that were not broken were beat under the sleet, looking like weeping willow. During Sunday it was impossible to go through orchards. The branches were bent and bowed to the ground, and so laden with ice and interlaced, that one could not make his way through.

"The destruction in Doniphan County will be many thousand dollars. Shade and ornamental trees, and groves planted by farmers, are fearfully damaged.

"A gentleman who lives near the Missouri river, says that all through Saturday night and Sunday morning, he could hear the limbs falling from the immense trees in the bottom, on the Missouri side, and the crashing, thundering sound that constantly came up from the deep woods was sublime, A hurricane could scarcely have done greater damage."

The author of this History was, but a boy when this storm occurred, but he has a distinct recollection of it. One scene impressed itself more strongly on his mind than any other. A tall, straight willow tree standing within a stone's throw of his home was bent with its top quite to the ground, forming a most beautiful arch about twenty feet in height, ornamented with a ton of glittering ice. There was a temptation to get up and "squirrel it" over the icy arch, but he satisfied himself by touching the top of the tree usually so high from the ground, but then bound to earth by the chains of the ice monarch. When the ice melted, the trunk resumed its natural position and stood for many years a straight and beautiful tree.

The match game of base ball between the merchants and lawyers of Troy came off last Friday forenoon (August 6, 1875). We were there in person to report the game, and therefore this account may be relied upon. One hour was taken up in disputing and quarreling as to who should and who should not play.

The lawyers wanted Manny Reville, because they said he was a lawper,[sic] but the merchants objected to any professional player being admitted. He was finally let in. Then the lawyers brought forth Babcock and Seaver, contending that they belonged to the Troy Bar. The merchants disputed their right, as to their not living in Troy; but finally Babcock was admitted. Then the merchants wanted to take in Len Noyes or Jim Reville, clerks in stores and professional players, to pit against Manny Reville. The lawyers would not consent. W. P. Russell did not put in an appearance, and his place had to be filled. After much grumbling by the lawyers, "old man Resse" was allowed to fill his place, Thus after both sides had jerked on their coats several times, to quit and go home, the game was made up, the lawyers having the decided average in selecting players.

Os. Marcum was scorer. Gene Brown acted as umpire, until they exhausted him, when George Hagenbach took his place.

N. B. Woods took the bat, and sent the ball to the right field, where Silverman tried to catch it in his hip pocket, but it took him on the rump. Wood got in on time. Perry ran in on a nick of time, and worked his way home, by watching the corners.

Webb hit the ball a fine clip and scooted. Between first and second his hat flew off; but McIntosh's Willie grabbed it up and followed. They both got home safely - Willie a little ahead.

Reville took the ball a gaul-snorter, sending it through center field.

It was fun to see Manny and Van Buskirk trying to get out of its way - neither having any life insurance. Reville came home in good style.

Col. Johnson was the next to the bat, and Stout on deck. The day was beginning to get sweltry, and Stout resembled the boy that stood on the burning deck. Johnson then took the ball on the end of the bat, and after every man on the ground had yelled for him to run, he started off. Upon reaching second base it occurred to him that Wood and Webb had run ahead of him. He knew that they had beaten him once, and it discouraged him. He did not get home.

Stout took the bat and lit out for three strikes, Some one called for judgement on the balls. Judgement overruled, and Stout went ahead.

Reaching third base, he was about blowed out when some one cried out that there was a man in the crowd who wanted to borrow some money on real estate. Stout made one more effort and got home safely.

Babcock hit the ball a gentle belt and worked himself home.

Heatly missed the ball three times and went out on a writ of error.

George Woods got in a fine hit, and being young, long legged, and having a good conscience, he made his run.

Now the merchats came to time, impressed with the feeling that honor of the yard stick and sugar scoop were at stake.

Leland hit the ball a square lick, and sent it over somewhere toward Jim Butler's house, and made a home run, while the umpire and an outsider were disputing whether it was a foul or not. As a good many fowls were supposed to go down that way, the umpire thought the ball might as well go in with the rest. He declared it a foul and Leland had to try it over.

Wilson gave the ball a sky winder sending it so high that it was taken for a grasshopper. It fell plump into Wood's hands. As the ball was in the pitcher's hand, the umpire decided that Wilson was out.

Joe Craney came prepared to run. Fearing that the wind might retard his progress, by coming in contact with his bushy looks, he had the top of his head shaved; but as he didn't hit the ball, he had no occasion to ran. His foresight was not quite, as good as his hindsight.

Van Buskirk struck the ball wickedly and got home on time. It was feared that his long connection with the business of chicken raising would cause him to make a foul, but he didn't.

Silverman struck at a fly and hit the ball accidentally, but they decided that he must run. He would have failed in getting home, but some one told him that Dan Bursk would follow him, and make it a rule to run over everybody that was in his way. Silverman made it.

Dan Bursk took the bat and after missing about seven times, demanded judgement on the balls. He finally got in a fair lick and made his run.

Bill Mann sent the ball toward first base, and followed it. Webb grabbed the ball, but before he could put it on the base, it slipped out of his hand. But being quick in emergencies he threw himself across the base, and insisted he had the ball on it. Had he insisted, he had been there, he would have carried his point. Mann had to go out.

Bickford got a fair yank at the ball and started off as though he had taken a dose of pills and the first base was the nearest place to go to. When he was on his way home the umpire called to the crowd, which was encroaching on the dead line, to go back. Bickford thought it meant him, and went back to first base. But he made the run.

Reese struck the ball gallantly and started off. On the way from the last base home he found it would be nip and tuck. As he was a good crawler, he fell flat on the ground and went the last ten feet on his belly. He was ruled out.

Four innings were played, the merchants coming out ahead. Following is the score:

On the sites of old Indian villages and camping grounds, in mounds, and in the banks of the streams have been found many interesting relies of aboriginal days. George J. Remsburg of Atchison county excavating an ancient mound at the mouth of Independence creek in 1903, discovered a human skeleton that bore evidence of having been cremated. With the skeleton were found ornaments of copper, and implements and weapons of stone. At Eagle Springs, where a few mounds have been examined superficially, have been found fragments of pottery, flint implements etc., also remnants of incinerated human bones, together with the bones of wild animals long unknown in this part of the country. One mile east of Severance, at the junction of Cold Springs and Silver Creek, which was the site of an ancient Indian village, a heavy corn-bowl, rude in outline but showing evidence of polish, has been found, also a fine green granite tomahawk, perfectly fashioned and carefully polished, hundreds of arrow and spear heads, lead amulets, beads, fragments of pottery, a portion of a rude iron scalping knife, an engraved sandstone, and a portion of a human skull together with the jaw bone containing a few teeth in fair state of preservation, all found in a heap of cinders and ashes about four to six inches beneath the surface of the ground of a crumbling bank overlooking the long-abandoned course of a stream. Near this old villages site was found, in 1902, a very ancient flint-lock pistol of primitive pattern, deeply eaten by rust but preserving evidence of fine finish and workmanship, and still retaining in its rusty barrel its charge of powder and ball. In 1879 there was found at the home of the writer, almost in the dooryard, what must have been at one time a treasure and a curiosity to the Indians themselves - a very small and absolutely perfect white flint arrow head measuring only three-eighths of an inch across the wings, and just five-eighths of an inch from point to butt. Being so dininutive[sic] and exhibiting perfection in skill in the making it was, we think, one of the most wonderful of Indian relics. Unfortunately it has been lost from the collection to which it belonged.

Long before Kansas became a territory apart from other lands of the West, that part of the country now included in Doniphan County was visited by a most destructive windstorm which swept over the Wolf River country, leveling the trees of the forest in a wide swath. No date has ever been set as the date of the passing of this storm, but it could not have been later than 1837, the year of the settlement there by the Presbyterian missionary, Rev. Irvin. For many years evidences of the great power of the wind in this storm were to be found in the region of Bayne's Bridge, where trunks of giant trees lay rotting in the path almost obliterated by a new growth of timber of no small size. This was the first windstorm (of which we have evidence) that visited this part of the country.

On the afternoon of June 16, 1865, a very destructive windstorm swept over this same region, traversing the territories of both Wolf River and Iowa townships. Coming from the south west and entering the county near the upper course of Wolf River, it pursued a north by east course across the high prairies until it struck the Wolf River timber above Bayne's Bridge. From this point the course of the stream was followed through Iowa township, The trail of the storm was narrow but the destruction in the path was great. Great tree-trunks were twisted like saplings and leveled to the ground. The house of Joshua Rittenhouse was totally destroyed while the family of ten saved their lives by retreating into the cellar. Everything on the place excepting a calf that was picketed near the house, was swept a-way. Another house that stood on the high prairie a few miles east of Highland was blown into splinters, and a woman with a baby who was running toward the house, was caught up and hurled to their death. It is said that the body of the woman was afterwards found in Missouri, just across the river; but the child was never found. Near the present site of Highland Station a log house belonging to Jonathan Frazier was torn to pieces by the fury of the wind. Mr. Frazier was killed and his little daughter, Maggie, was seriously injured. Many other houses and shanties were unroofed and otherwise damaged, but the greatest sufferers were those whose houses were in the timber. The path of the storm was, for many years, plainly visible, and in some places it is yet possible to trace it, after forty years of Nature's kind restoring.

About 1872, a tornado of less destructive power passed over the country just east of Troy. The house of John Doms, situated just three and a half miles to the east of Troy, was totally destroyed. Mrs. Doms was killed.

In August, 1878, a strong northwest wind destroyed the home of Clement Pope, one mile northeast of Moray, then Norway. The oldest son of the family was instantly killed by being struck with a flying timber from the house.

On the night of May 25th, 1903, a tornado coming from the southwest began its destruction in Union township by completely destroying the handsome brick church at St. Benedict's, a short distance southeast of Denton. The church had been finished only a few years at a cost of about $15,000, but was totally destroyed with all its contents within a few seconds, while the pastor's residence, only a few yards distant from the church, was left unharmed. Passing on its fatal path the storm dealt destruction to everything within its mad reach. Just north of the destroyed church the winds divided, following parallel paths, leveling barns, windmills, orchards and groves. No life of man or beast was lost, and no one received the slightest injury. The coming at an hour when the children of most families were in bed, the destruction of life might have been very great, but it was as if the guardian angel had traced a channel for the wind to follow, thus shielding the homes of the sleeping little ones from the visit of misery and death. The damage inflicted by this wind may be roughly estimated at but the preservation of human life was certainly miraculous.