The Town of Bourbon: 1911

The Town of Bourbon: 1911

by | Sep 18, 2025 | Bourbon, Business & Industry, General History

This article about the Town of Bourbon appeared in the Weekly Republican on November 30, 1911.

Weekly Republican, 30 Nov 1911, pg 28 cols 3 & 4

Farm and Industry

Bourbon is one of the larger towns in Marshall County, its population according to the last census is 1,163. It is the center of what is considered the best farming lands in the county. While there are good lands all over the county, the Government geological survey shows that the best of them lie in the eastern third of the county.

Surrounded by such rich farming lands, Bourbon is a very prosperous town. Here the E. E. Delp Grain Co., does an elevator business of from $30,000 to $40,000 monthly. There are extensive coal and lumber yards, sawmill, cooperative creamery, two banks, many stores, three churches, Presbyterian, U. B. and Methodist, fraternal societies of Masons, I. O. O. F., Red Men and Knights of Pythias. A good newspaper, the News-Mirror, upholds the best in and for the community.

Some of the best of the Bourbon institutions are represented in this edition, which shows how enterprising and up-to-date they are. The Bourbon Fair, held every fall, is one of the greatest attractions of northern Indiana. On the biggest days the attendance usually reaches eight or ten thousand. Fruit growing, which is given much attention in this vicinity, is always well represented at these fairs.

The Heinz company has a salting station here also and many pickles are grown. Four of the chief growers are Otto Ames, who from a half-acre cleaned up $94.87; Conrad Hand, who made $136.82 on one acre; Jos. Hurford, who had out 1 1-2 acre and got $149.76 from it; and Fred Lemler, who took in $227.89 from two acres.

That Bourbon is a good center for farming and livestock raising, is evident from the large number of farmers in the district who feed and ship their own cattle and hogs. It is a fact that more livestock is shipped by rail out of Bourbon than is the case at any point between Ft. Wayne and Chicago.

The following figures showing the number of cars of livestock that have left Bourbon during the past eight years will be of interest: 1903: 105 Cars; 1904: 122 cars; 1905: 135 cars; 1906: 194 cars; 1907: 192 cars; 1908: 243 cars; 1909: 182 cars; 1910: 126 cars.

The figures for this year are, of course, incomplete, but the railway officials at Bourbon expect them to equal those of 1909.

Onion Growing in Bourbon

The onion crop in the vicinity of Bourbon is cultivated to a considerable extent, and with a success which is surprising especially to the layman. The industry has grown amazingly in this part of Marshall County and provides something more than a good living to those in the business. The soil in these parts is peculiarly adapted to the successful raising of this onions.

Over 200 acres around Bourbon, are yearly planted out, and usually the yield is good and pays the farmer well. This year, however, it was only 60 per cent of the normal yield.

It is five years since the industry was started around Bourbon, and, during that time it has assumed large proportions. A considerable number of men are employed, especially in the weeding season. The onions from Bourbon are shipped to all parts of the country, Boston taking large quantities for export purposes. Quantities are also sent to New Orleans for export to Panama. Most of the crop, however, is sent to the south and southwest.  F. F. Fribley, who is one of the pioneers in the business, and who has made a success of it from the very start, owns two large storage houses in Bourbon, from which he ships.

In conversation with a representative of the Republican he instanced the case of George Gouchenour who owns five acres of onion soil, and who, this year, made a net profit of $1000. Another man cleaned up $125 on one acre this year, while still another, Emanuel Coon, with 12 acres, had a net profit of $1920.

As showing how the value of onion lands has increased, it may be mentioned that a very few years ago, they were considered almost worthless, and went begging at from $5 to $10 per acre. Today these same lands are held firmly at from $100 to $125 an acre with improvements. Mr. F. F. Fribley is an enthusiast of onion raising and has done well in the business. He is of the opinion that the industry will soon develop into one of the most important and remunerative in the county.

Magnetic Park

Magnetic Park

by | Sep 18, 2025 | General History, Parks, Pastimes, Plymouth

Plymouth’s Magnetic Park should be a top stop on a tour of Marshall County. Located along the Yellow River, Magnetic Park has a fascinating history.

Creating the Well

Magnetic Park gets its name from the flowing well of magnetic water. It is 11 inches in diameter and 38 feet deep, with a pipe that is 12 inches in diameter.

The well was driven in 1875 by Bailey & Capron, the owners of the Plymouth Water Mills. A horsepower tread was used to operate the drive hammer. The well was dug with the idea that an underground river would be found, into which the water from the mill race could be drained, giving more power to the water turbine. Instead, a gushing stream of water spouted eight feet high above the top of the well.  Mr. Bailey commented, “Of all the wells I’ve driven this is the first one I wanted the water to run into and here the water is running out.”

A Magnetic Discovery

In 1876 Holland’s City Directory was talking about how clear and cold the water was. At first no one knew about the well’s magnetic properties, but it was shortly to be discovered. The directory stated that recent tests showed that the water was highly charged with magnetism and was possessed of medicinal and curative properties in an eminent degree. It stated, “It is without doubt the largest and finest flow of magnetic water in the world!”

Magnetic wells appear in area where the ground has a lot of iron. Soil can also be slightly magnetic. This is true of Marshall County. At one time, we had a place called Sligo where bog iron was processed. We will share an article about Sligo soon. To be fair, some believe that a magnetic water is not possible, but that the iron oxide that gathered around the mouth of the well dictated the name “magnetic” at that time.

Magnetic Well flowing into drain.

Healing Properties and Pastimes

The writer of the article in the directory said the volume of water discharged was enormous, 500 gallons per minute, or 30,000 gallons per hour, and 720 gallons a day. It said that people suffering with rheumatic and dyspeptic complaints greatly benefitted by drinking the water, even before they imagined it was anything more than pure spring water. It was thought that Plymouth could become the Bethesda of the west. The reference was to the pool of Bethesda in Jerusalem, where Jesus healed the paralyzed man. After the removal of the old dam, the flow of water was decreased considerably.

The alleged healing properties were not the only reason people came to the well. A popular pastime was to suspend a metallic object into the well and let it remain for several hours.  Due to the unique properties of the water, the object would become magnetized. Knives, shears, scissors, hooks and small bars of steel became magnetized by being placed in the water. A compass was said to be under its control at a distance of two feet.

Community Renovations

An 1878 newspaper article said that a movement was underway to improve the grounds at the flowing well. The place was called “Magnetic Park” in quotations. They planned to build a bridge across the race and an arbor over the “magnetic flowing well” and to clear and beautify the grounds.  Bailey & Capron agreed to allow the free use of the grounds for the benefit of the public.

In 1914 a postcard pictured a small wooden shelter around the well, with two ladies in front of it.  Later it was rebuilt with stone and has two identical markers on opposite sides of the structure.  The markers are metal, one foot x two feet. Both markers read: “This shelter house – made possible – by the donations of – Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Price – of – ‘Price’s Steak House’ – erected in 1937 – for the public.”

Two women at the “Old Flowing Well” ca. 1908.

Additional historical markers are located at the park, which is at 700 N. Water St. in Plymouth. Try to find them when you walk through this gem of a park along the Yellow River!

Curious Findings

A 1935 newspaper article discussed the articles found when the WPA cleaned out what was then called the “Old Flowing Well.” The workers reached the bottom of the well and the “relics” were recovered were put on display in the show window of the Eagle building, one door north of the Ball Store, which was at 116 N. Michigan Street.

There were more than 200 items. Among them was a bayonet from an old army musket, thought to be used on a gun during the War of 1812. There are War of 1812 soldiers buried in Marshall County, among them Benjamin Cruzan. Other articles included a gold locket, a silver spoon engraved E.M.E., an unbroken glass goblet and a boy’s pewter whistle which still blew loudly. Of course, there were the usual items like old whiskey bottles. A drive shaft of an automobile was recovered.

Entertainment in the Good Old Days

Entertainment in the Good Old Days

by | Aug 28, 2025 | General History, Pastimes, Visitor Stories & Oral Histories

Long before the entertainment overload of today, Marshall County youth had some interesting ways of creating their own fun. They did have theaters, but much of the time, they relied on simple things dictated by what was at hand, our location and the weather. The following collection is from oral histories in our archives.

Performing Arts

“The Orpheum Theater cost a nickel. It was on, oh, just a little way north of Washington Street on Michigan, where the old Orpheum was. They’d have Saturday afternoon matinees for a nickel.  And there were shows, there were some outside shows, tent shows, down on, in the area where the fire station parking lot is now, on the corner of LaPorte and Center Street, just a block south of the library.”  Stanley Brown

Large group of children posing for image on snowy day

The Orpheum Theatre in Plymouth, Indiana.

“About playing piano for the silent movies in Plymouth – When I played, I played for the big sum of $3.00 a week, and six nights a week, 7:00 to 10:00 on the weekdays. On Saturday nights it was seven ‘til 11:00, and it was nickel shows, you know, every night, and we had songs. They used to have sing-a-song, you know, and the words, and the little ball would bounce up. And I’d play for that, and that song came along with the film. We had a girl or boy, a singer, and that was all they done, was sing that song at every show.”  Etta Steiner

 “We had travelling stage shows quite often. They would come and book a week’s time at the opera house.”  Beatrice Pickerl

Seasonal Fun

“We had sleigh ride parties and bobsled parties.  And on the bobsled parties whenever you went under a streetlight, you got to kiss the girl that you were with.  There were not very many streetlights in those days.”  Morris Cressner

Large group of children posing for image on snowy day

Sleighing party for city kids, 1916.

“You’d listen the first morning of cold weather, the first snowy, icy morning, see if you could hear Uncle J. T.’s sleigh bells. Uncle J. lived north of town (Argos), probably a mile and a half, might be two miles. And Uncle J. always had his sleigh out first, and he was the only person that the children of the town, that I knew best, could go riding with without running home and asking their parents. But if Uncle J. had his sleigh, we would go with him, and he’d take us a very nice fast ride down to the Nickel Plate Railroad.”  Beatrice Pickerl

The Joy In the Everyday

“Used to be a train come in and my brother and different ones would walk over to Tyner to see it come in, and I believe every Friday or Saturday night from South Bend. That was a big thing.  It was called the Cannonball. It would come in at 10:00.  And the depot was right below our house here. That was their entertainment, was to come and watch the Cannonball.”  Ray Jacobson

“They had the old [gas] street lights in Plymouth, and a man had to go around with a long pole and pull them down and light them by hand. He’d put a match to them and put them back up.  Kids at night, after they got that light lit – one of our forms of fun was catching bats. There used to be a lot of bats around. They’d fly around those lights. We’d throw our caps up and every once in a while, we’d get a bat in them.”  Stanley Brown

Black and white image of street corner with three story building and a few people walking by. In the forefront, there is a gas lamp hanging from a wire.

Bourbon street scene with gas street light.

Social Get-Togethers

“What progressed into hockey we called shinny. We used sticks and tin cans.”  Homer Riddle

“We used to have spelling bees at the school house. And we’d spell, and the old people as well as the young would be in that, don’t you know. They’d all stand up and then when you missed a word, you sit down, and then the last one that stayed up got a prize.”  Alta Listenberger

“We used to have box socials. The girls would take a box of food and then they’d auction it off and the boy that bought it, he wouldn’t know whose he’s buying, don’t you know, because they’d decorate these boxes up beautiful. And then the boy that bought them would eat with the girl. He wouldn’t know ‘til he got the box unless she’d tell him or, you know, the girl he liked would tell him which was her box. But otherwise they kept that a secret. Sometimes you’d eat with an old man. I’ve ate with old men, you know, some old farmer, instead of eating with the boy I wanted to eat with because he paid the most for the box.”  Alta Listenberger

Learn more about everyday life in Marshall County by visiting our Museum!

The Trail of Death

The Trail of Death

by | Aug 28, 2025 | General History, Native Americans

Marshall County has the dubious distinction of being the starting point of the Trail of Death in 1838. The Trail of Death was the forced removal of 859 Potawatomi Indians from Indiana to Kansas. The Trail of Death is not the same as the Trail of Tears, which was the removal of the Cherokee Indians in the southeast United States. Both removals took place the same year in response to the passage of the Indian Removal Act of 1830, which provided legal authority to exchange Indian lands for lands west of the Mississippi River.

A series of three treaties were negotiated with the Potawatomi at the Tippecanoe River on October 26, 1832. Potawatomi land in Illinois, part of Michigan and most of their remaining lands in northwestern and north central Indiana were relinquished to the federal government. In exchange, the bands received small reservation lands for tribal use. This included a joint grant of 22 sections (14,080 acres) of reservation land in the Yellow River area in Marshall County. 

The land was given to four Indian chiefs, No-taw-kah, Pep-i-na-wah, Mac-ka-tah-moah, and Menominee. In the spring of 1836, a treaty was negotiated with the first three chiefs for the sale of their land, but Menominee refused to sell. He said the treaty was fraudulent since the reservation land had originally been awarded to all four chiefs.

Before and After Settlements

The land prior to the organization of the county belonged to the Potawatomi Indians. In 1832 there was a Menominee reservation near Twin Lakes. There were also several other reservations in this part of the country. During that year, the government began offering some of the land they had obtained from the Indians. White settlers began coming in and buying these lands. It was not long until these settlers insisted that the Indians be taken out of the county.

Treaties and Negotiations

The Treaty of Yellow River was made on August 5, 1836 and ultimately led to the forced removal of Menominee’s band from Twin Lakes. Under its terms the Potawatomi ceded all the reservation land that was granted to them under the Treaty of Tippecanoe to the federal government. The Potawatomi who signed the Yellow River treaty also agreed to remove west of the Mississippi River within two years. Menominee and 17 of the Yellow River band did not take part in the negotiations and refused to recognize the treaty’s authority over their land.

On February 11, 1837, the signers reconfirmed the Potawatomi land cessions in Indiana from the treaties of August and September of 1836. They agreed to remove to reservation land on the Osage River, southwest of the Missouri River in present-day Kansas. Again, Menominee refused to sign.

When the August 5, 1838 deadline arrived for the removal of Menominee and his band from Indiana, most of the Potawatomi had already left. Menominee’s group still refused to leave their village. On August 6, the day after the deadline for removal, the Potawatomi were told that they had relinquished their land in Indiana under treaties previously signed and ratified by the United States Senate. The Potawatomi were given no option. The land now belonged to the federal government and the Potawatomi had to remove.

Forced Removal

Indiana governor David Wallace authorized General John Tipton to mobilize a local militia of 100 volunteers to forcibly remove the Potawatomi from their reservation lands. On August 29, 1838 General Tipton and his militia surrounded the village at Twin Lakes. A meeting was called at the village chapel, where the militia took Menominee and the other Potawatomi chiefs into custody. Between August 30 and September 3, Tipton and his men gathered the Potawatomi still living on reservation lands and began preparations for their removal from Indiana.

Huts and wigwams were destroyed. Indians were brought to the village from northern Indiana and southern Michigan to be removed. Soldiers burned crops and destroyed approximately 100 structures to discourage the Potawatomi from returning. The last thing they were permitted to do was to visit the graves of their people, a short distance north of the village.

On September 4, 1838, soldiers started moving the entire band south along the Michigan Road and then west. The forced march became known as the Potawatomi Trail of Death, the single largest Indian removal in the state.  A few people were placed in wagons and those who had ponies were allowed to ride, but most walked, often hustled along by the soldiers. Menominee’s Yellow River band were among those who were force marched from Twin Lakes to Osawatomie, Kansas. Six chiefs, including Menominee, were treated as prisoners and forced to ride in a wagon under armed guard.

Wigwam replica on display in the Marshall County Museum. It is 3/4 size of a true wigwam.

The Trail of Death

The Trail of Death ran from Marshall County near through Rochester, down the Wabash River, and out of the state south of Covington.

The difficult journey covered 665 miles over 61 days in unseasonably hot weather. The caravan included 286 horses and 26 wagons. Water was scarce along much of the trail. The quality of the food supplied was so poor that the volunteer militia refused to eat it and demanded funds to buy their own rations. Of the 859 who began the journey, 756 Potawatomi survived (including Menominee); 42 were recorded as having died, 28 of them children, and the remainder escaped. The Indians were left on a barren plain west of the Mississippi. 

Not all the Potawatomi from Indiana removed to the western United States. Many Potawatomi found ways to remain, primarily those in Michigan. Some remained in the east, while others fled to Michigan, where they became part of the Huron and Pokagon Potawatomi bands. A small group joined an estimated 2,500 Potawatomi in Canada. Others fled to their Odawa neighbors. Anthony Nigo was allowed to stay in Marshall County because his mother was a Miami Indian.  By tribal custom a child belonged to his mother’s tribe, and so, even though his father was a Potawatomi, Anthony did not have to go on the Trail of Death. He became known as the “last Indian in Marshall County.” He lived the rest of his life here and is buried in St. Michael’s Cemetery.

New Treaties

In 1861 the Potawatomi of the Woods Mission Band were offered a new treaty which gave them land in Oklahoma. Those who signed the treaty became the Citizen Band Potawatomi because they were given U.S. citizenship. Their headquarters today are in Shawnee, Oklahoma. After the Civil War, the Potawatomi scattered; many moved to other reservations in Kansas and Oklahoma. A reservation for the Prairie Band Potawatomi is located in Mayetta, Kansas.

Historical Marker for Trail of Death.

A Lucky Find

A state historical marker was erected on 12th Road at the intersection of State Road 17. It is located a couple of miles away from Twin Lakes where the Indians were assembled for the Trail of Death march. The marker was erected by the Indiana Historical Society in 1949. The marker is metal, mounted on a metal pole, and reads:

“Trail of Death. Two miles east, on north bank of Twin Lakes, some 800 Potawatomi Indians were collected in August 1838 and forced to begin their long march to new homes in the west. Many perished on the way. 1949.”

In May 1973 it was discovered that the marker had been stolen. The following April it was found in a vacant apartment in Chicago. It was returned through the efforts of Bertha Stalbaum, curator of the Porter County Museum. Her uncle, John Wohlenberg, had found the plaque as he was cleaning the apartment. It was thought that tenants had moved out, leaving behind evidence of some vandalism sprees, including the marker. The marker was returned to its spot and rededicated on September 16, 1974. Both John Wohlenberg and Bertha Stalbaum were present at that rededication ceremony, along with Paul Hamilton, great-great grandson of Chief Leopold Pokagan.

The marker, as well as the statue of Chief Menominee, can be seen today south of Plymouth. To learn more, you can visit the Museum and see our Historic Crossroads Center.

 

Large group of people standing around statue of Chief Menominee

Unveiling monument of Chief Menominee with his granddaughter present.

Travelers on the Orphan Train

Travelers on the Orphan Train

by | Aug 20, 2025 | General History, Plymouth, Railroad

In 1892, Plymouth was a stop for an “orphan train” that transported thousands of children. They came from the streets of New York and New England to new homes in the Midwest. From 1854-1929, nearly 4,000 orphans, ranging from ages 1 to 12 were brought to Indiana. All together almost 250,000 “little waifs” climbed aboard the orphan trains and headed west in search of a family. They got off the train with name cards pinned to their clothing. Many were orphaned not only by the death of a parent, but because of poverty and neglect, and would have died on the streets. The image above features the New England Home for Little Wanderers of Boston. Rev. H.S. Kimball, an agent of the home, preaches at the M.E. Church in Argos.

Who Took In Travelers from the Orphan Train?

Children from the orphan trains were placed in homes depending on the needs of prospective adoptive parents. Sometimes their own child had died and they were seeking to expand their family. Some older couples needed someone to look after them, or a farm family needed an extra pair of hands to help with the chores. Some of the agricultural families believed the abandoned children should work to “earn their keep.” Sadly, some siblings went to different homes. The orphans were at the mercy of their adoptive families.

Locally, 26 orphans found permanent homes in Marshall County from the New England Orphan’s Home, although the supply didn’t meet the demand for these kids. “The children were the objects of considerable attention,” according to an edition of the June 1892 Plymouth Democrat. The orphans, gathered at the Methodist church in Plymouth, hoped to win the hearts of a new family. The would-be foster parents could specify exactly what they wanted. For instance, a blue-eyed blonde female, or a sturdy red-headed male. Some orphans were luckier than others. Many were placed loving homes with caring families, but others lived a life of hard farm labor. It seemed a bit callous, but “beggars couldn’t be choosers.” Although every situation was unique, adoption was perceived as better than life on the streets.  

Young boy posing for image with hand on table

The Good and the Bad of Adoption

One of the grown-up orphans that made her home in another state, Jesse Martin, said that being an orphan train rider taught her to have more understanding of people’s pain. She never felt like she fit in. She said the children at school would say, “No one cares for you, not even your own mother!” She says she simply became grateful for the kind people along the way.

Not all these little wanderers had such an unhappy experience. Many found good homes and received the best of care. One particular child caught the eye of a new parent that was grieving from the loss of their own. According to an article from the 1990 Herald Banner, (Greenville, Texas) Helen Hale Vaughn said that her mother would become very angry at anyone who referred to her as their “adoptive” daughter. Whenever Helen would come home broken-hearted, her mother would embrace her and say, “You just remember, we chose you, and they were born to their parents, so they had to have ’em!”  

The Legacy of the Orphan Train and Its Travelers

Some of the orphans given an opportunity for a new life prospered and flourished in their new environment. Many orphan train children went on to live long productive lives and were able to enjoy their grandchildren, and many times great-grandchildren. They weren’t looking for fame and fortune, but a better life and “to love and be loved!” The orphan train provided a means for these children to have the will to go on and made survivors out of them.

For more specific information on the local impact of the orphan train, visit the Marshall County Museum and enjoy the research done by Christopher Chalko who spent time collecting data, newspaper articles and personal letters of people that actually rode the orphan train. It’s interesting reading material that is a part of our history in Marshall County and across the United States.

Home Made Remedies

Home Made Remedies

by | Jan 18, 2025 | Agriculture, Family Stories, General History

Quite often something really interesting surfaces as we go about our preservation and archiving efforts. A paper turned up recently with hand-written remedies (and gardening advice), mixed with a couple of newspaper clippings from 1912. There is also a recipe for apple butter! I have included it, but don’t count on it for a cure for anything but dry toast. Please note that these recipes are written as found.

  1. Cure for pneumonia or lung fever: Chopped onion.  Vinegar and graham flour.  Put on stove and heat.
  1. Rheumatism cure: Aunt Clara Barlow.  Iodide of potassium 15ç worth in ½ pint water.  Take 1 tablespoon before meals.
  1. Rheumatism bladder trouble: Fluid extract dandelion ½ oz.  Compound Kargon (a commercial prescription) 1 oz.  Compound syrup of sarsaparilla 3 oz.  Take 1 teaspoon after each meal and at bedtime.  “Is all right for I have taken it.”
  1. Yellow jaundice: Go and get south running water and take one egg.

First day dose:  Take one part of the white of the egg, beat it up with 3 tablespoons of the water and drink it.

Second day dose:  Take another part of the egg white and beat it up with 3 tablespoon of the water and drink.

Third day dose:  Take the last part of the egg white and beat it up with 3 tablespoon of the water.

Use the same egg each day.  The white is in three parts.  And take one part each day.  Sure cure.  1912.

  1. Sore throat cure: Strep throat:  1 qt. hot water.  1 tea. soda.  1 tea. salt.  ¼ tea. carbolic acid.
  1. To keep bugs from melons and pickles: Take a moth ball and break in two and put in bottle around hill.  Or also plant an onion in hill.
  1. To make good apple butter: Boil 30-gallon cider down to 12 or 13 gallons.  Put in 16 gallons sliced apples, few at a time, until all in, and then boil 3 or 4 hours down to about 9 or 10 gallons.  Add 12 ½ lbs. granulated sugar.  Cook until sugar is thoroughly dissolved.

Here is cure for poison ivy that never fails: boil one-half pint of shelled oats in water until the water is real dark.  Then wash the poisoned parts with the water.  It does the work without any pain.  M. L. B., Clark Co., Ind.

Sand and sawdust make a good bed for flowers like the rhododendron, which require an acid soil.

My Coal-Oil Cure-All by S. E. Bandy.

Coal oil (kerosene) is a commodity found in every farm home, yet its many uses and benefits are known only to a few people.  I have saved many a fine watermelon patch from destruction by the striped beetle by mixing coal oil and wood ashes – one part coal oil, by measure, to twenty parts ashes – and putting it on the hills around the roots of the melons.

The coal oil must not touch the vines, and one large spoonful to a hill is sufficient.  The bugs will depart immediately.  It should be repeated after each rain.

A handful of coal oil and salt mixed and dropped into each mole run will cause them to change their location.  A peck of lime thoroughly mixed with a gill (one quarter of a pint, or four ounces) of coal oil and spread lightly around the early cabbage plants will prevent the cutworms from destroying them.  When it is hoed in later, it seems to act as a fertilizer.

With coal oil I cure scaly leg in chickens by applying it directly with a feather.  I also find a mixture of coal and lime used generously around over the chicken house will prevent mites.

We do not recommend trying these remedies at home, but as always, we find that our ancestors were hardy and ingenious people. Our archives are full of the stories of incredible people, and we love to share. Stop by the Museum anytime! Our hours are Tuesday through Saturday from 10 until 4.