Nov. 11, 1903: Attacked by an eagle

Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009

While fishing from a kayak the other day, I spotted a huge eagle atop a tree on the west side of Lake Harriet. After reading this St. Paul Globe piece, I wonder if I should arm myself with something more menacing than a paddle next time I troll that stretch of water. Any suggestions?


Anton Bosworth Has Exciting
Battle With King Bird

Alone in a rowboat on Bald Eagle lake, Anton Bosworth, a young hunter, battled with a powerful gray eagle yesterday afternoon, and after fifteen minutes of desperate fighting, in which the half-starved eagle made repeated attacks upon him, succeeded in breaking the eagle’s wing by shooting it.

Handicapped as Bosworth was by being in a small rowboat, he fought against the onslaughts of the bird, and when the danger was finally over, he fell to the bottom of the boat exhausted.

Bosworth, whose home is at Hugo, was hunting muskrats in the marshes of Bald Eagle lake. He noticed the eagle some time before it reached him, but did not anticipate any trouble. But the big bird, evidently in search of muskrats also, came direct toward the boat, and before Bosworth could realize his position the bird was within a few feet of him.

Raising his gun, he fired at the eagle when it was within three feet of him. The shell was loaded with small shot, and the charge, which scattered the bird’s feathers, only irritated it.

Circling around a few yards the bird came direct at Bosworth. He had not time to reload his gun, and for the next few moments it was a fierce battle between the enraged eagle and the hunter. By using his gun as a club, Bosworth managed to keep the bird off him, but the eagle put up a game fight and kept Bosworth busy to protect himself.

Finally the eagle soared away to a distance sufficient to give Bosworth time to reload his gun with a shell containing large shot, and when the attack was renewed a well-aimed shot broke the eagle’s wing and it fell into the shallow water.

Bosworth was exhausted, but after a rest of a few moments he recovered sufficiently to kill the eagle.

A wound on the wrist shows the only mark Bosworth received from the claws of the eagle, but he fought desperately to save himself from a worse fate.

Bosworth came to St. Paul with the eagle yesterday evening and was about town attempting to sell the bird.

The eagle’s wings measured a trifle more than seven feet from tip to tip. The bird had every appearance of being half starved.

  A cottage on Bald Eagle Lake in about 1895. (Photo courtesy

Nov. 13, 1904: Quite a puzzler

Wednesday, October 14th, 2009

This cruel “puzzle” appeared on the St. Paul Globe’s “Girls and Boys Page Conducted by Polly Evans.” Polly must have been a wicked, wicked person.

Here’s the original caption, to save you some squinting: “The square is full of straight lines that criss-cross each other and make a confused maze of lines. Can you count them and tell Polly Evans how many there are?” To make things worse, Polly didn’t provide an answer. Sometimes, kids, you’re on your own.

Nov. 20, 1908: Hats in class

Sunday, October 11th, 2009

The Minneapolis Tribune reported on a curious trend among co-eds at the University of Minnesota: Wearing large hats to class to conceal widespread … doily making?

Co-Eds Impose on
Guileless Professors

Directoire Hats Enable Col-
lege Girls to Sew in

A “Hats Off” Rule May
Have to Be Pro-

Co-eds at the University of Minnesota have recently begun to show a remarkable ingenuity in the art of living up to the old proverb of “improving each flying moment,” and at the same time are acting in a mean manner toward their various instructors by taking an undue advantage of the fashion of wearing the wide “merry widow” hats.

Multiply this by a dozen or so and you’ll have some idea what the professors were up against. (Photo courtesy

Girls at the university have in nearly all their classes been allowed to wear their hats to class. Many girls have been in the habit of smuggling a novel or the Minnesota Daily into a back row of seats, and, screened from the eagle eye of the professor, have read more “interesting” literature on the side.

With the advent this fall of the more copious “directoire lids,” the co-eds who drew the back seats in the recitation rooms have been encouraged to take up a more practical subject than the reading of literature. Under the regime of the newest millinery creations it is now impossible for instructors of very large classes to see what those in the back rows are doing.

Hence, in the last two weeks a fad has sprung up among a certain group of girls, who may be seen nearly every day sitting quietly in the rear of their classroom, industriously sewing away, and fashioning wonderful creations in doilies, sofa pillows, exquisite drawn work, and other creations known to feminine witchcraft. Many say that this is an argument for a sewing school to be established at the university, but there are others who say that the professors should pass a “hats off” rule to apply in the recitation rooms.

  At the end of a long day in about 1910, these U students retreated to Sanford Hall and donned less bulky nightcaps. (Photo courtesy