In Siberia, Wisconsin, away from the beaten paths, on the edge of one of the most wonderful lakes, was a beautiful little cabin with a ginseng garden adjoining it. The lake was filled with fish of every description and the woods were filled with a variety of game; moose, elk, deer, fox and bear. There was a profusion of flowers and shrubbery, and the monarch of the forest, the great pine, sang with a soughing sound, all through the year. If the angels ever saw this scene of beauty, they might be tempted to leave their present place of habitation.
    Not wishing to boast, nature endowed me with a secret, which I shall carry to my grave. My slightest thought is powerful and hypnotic. (I can’t explain it, nor can anyone else). I can take a bird, beast or fish of any species and bring about a different breed. I have proven this, as I have a wonderful pair of fish hounds at my cabin, under the care of a faithful Indian. These were bred from a water fowl, known as the hell diver, and crossed with a mink, producing this new breed known as the fish hound. In the first litter, there were five pups. One was killed by a wolf and two were drowned. The two which I now have, can, at the age of eight months, divine my thoughts.
    If I want a fish, all I have to do is to say, “Nero, get me a four pound bass.” He at once dives into the water and swims among the muskalonge, pickerel and pike until he spies a four pound bass. As my lake is full of fish, Nero is usually back within five minutes with the bass.
    In hunting animals, Nero and his mate have the same uncanny methods of capture. In appearance, the fish hound resembles the ordinary fox hound, from the tip of its nose to the end of the tail. One side of this fish hound is covered with feathers and the other side with the soft fur of the mink. Boys, if all goes well, this will be my last winter cutting down pine, as I intend to go into the raising of fish hounds.     Good night“.
    On another evening, as the program got under way, the dial pointed to Oley Severson. He used to drive a yoke of brindle bulls and could skid logs with the best of them. He was a great favorite with the crew. He was very serious as he took his seat on the “deacon’s throne”, and began with an effort to tell the following story :