The New Jerusalem

Twenty years ago the "Jerusalem Wagon" was famous in Jackson and Inghatn counties. So much attention has been drawn to it by E. Everett Howe's new novel, '-The Chronicles of Break o' Day," that old residents in the vicinity of Munith are again relating the history of the singular vehicle. The inventor, Hiram Drew, was an eccentric old man, from whorn, apparently, some of Ratke's peculiarities were derived, but in many respects he differed from the Break o' Day philosopher. He was a pronounced Adventist, and he was never tired of advocating che principies of his belief. "This part of the world is going to burn up," he would say, "Jerusalem will be spared. We've got to turn in with the Jews and go to Jeirusalem. 'The time of the Gentile s fulfilled'." Then he would light his short black pipe, settle his grizzled, bushy head close to his big shoulders, and puff at least four times as fast as the ordinary smoker, all the while preparing for another exposition of his belief. He was in debt for his farm, which was situated something more than two miles northeast of Munith, and which was to be sold on the rortgage in a few months, when the invention of the first Jerusalem wagon brought a speedy change in his fïnancial affairs. The patent right was extensively sold, the mortgage was lifted, and Drew soon had an abundance of money at his coramand. "I will ride to Jerusalem in it," said the proud inventor, and it was quickly named "The Jerusalem wagon." The neighboring country went wild over his wagon. One capitalist in Jackson, as Drew was leaving the city, followed him for half a mile, endeavoring to persuade him to accept $8,000 for his invention. But Drew was peremptory in his refusal; must have a million. The wagon had very high, light wheels, and a peculiar tongue, said to make it draw easy. The wagon was not substantial. Fault after fault developed, until the vehicles that had been sold were hauled under sheds to await repairs or were left warped and rotting in the sun and rain. Then it was that the old man would have accepted the $8,000, but it was too late. A new idea carne into his ever active mind. He would invent a wagon of such striking originality that it must arouse interest, and he did. Poor old man! The public had had enough of his wagons. The last met with nothing but ridicule. Bareheaded and without a coat, with his head lower than the wheels of his queer equipage, the man who could once have dictated his terms to Michigan capitalists, rode through country towns, followed by crowds of yelling boys. He died in 1881. The Drew farm was long strewn with the hubless wheels of the "Old Jerusalem." One of them was for many years with its iron spindle protruding from the water near the bridge over Plum Orchard creek, one and one-half miles north of Munith. The little boys on their way to school threw stones at this part of the invention, which had been expected to revolutionize the manufacture of farm vehicles in America.-