At the Foot of the Rainbow | Page 3

the Project of 20% of the net profits
you derive calculated using the method you already use to calculate
your applicable taxes. If you don't derive profits, no royalty is due.
Royalties are payable to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois
Benedictine College" within the 60 days following each date you
prepare (or were legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent
periodic) tax return.
WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU
DON'T HAVE TO?

The Project gratefully accepts contributions in money, time, scanning
machines, OCR software, public domain etexts, royalty free copyright
licenses, and every other sort of contribution you can think of. Money
should be paid to "Project Gutenberg Association / Illinois Benedictine
College".
*END*THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN
ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END*

At the Foot of the Rainbow
by Gene Stratton-Porter

"And the bow shall be set in the cloud; and I will look upon it, that I
may remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living
creature of all flesh that is upon the earth." --GENESIS, ix-16.

Contents I. THE RAT-CATCHERS OF THE WABASH II. RUBEN
O'KHAYAM AND THE MILK PAIL III. THE FIFTY COONS OF
THE CANOPER IV. WHEN THE KINGFISHER AND THE BLACK
BASS CAME HOME V. WHEN THE RAINBOW SET ITS ARCH IN
THE SKY VI. THE HEART OF MARY MALONE VII. THE APPLE
OF DISCORD BECOMES A JOINTED ROD VIII. WHEN THE
BLACK BASS STRUCK IX. WHEN JIMMY MALONE CAME TO
CONFESSION X. DANNIE'S RENUNCIATION XI. THE POT OF
GOLD

GENE STRATTON-PORTER
A LITTLE STORY OF HER LIFE AND WORK
For several years Doubleday, Page & Company have been receiving
repeated requests for information about the life and books of Gene
Stratton-Porter. Her fascinating nature work with bird, flower, and
moth, and the natural wonders of the Limberlost Swamp, made famous
as the scene of her nature romances, all have stirred much curiosity
among readers everywhere.
Mrs. Porter did not possess what has been called "an aptitude for
personal publicity." Indeed, up to the present, she has discouraged quite

successfully any attempt to stress the personal note. It is practically
impossible, however, to do the kind of work she has done--to make
genuine contributions to natural science by her wonderful field work
among birds, insects, and flowers, and then, through her romances, to
bring several hundred thousands of people to love and understand
nature in a way they never did before-- without arousing a legitimate
interest in her own history, her ideals, her methods of work, and all that
underlies the structure of her unusual achievement.
Her publishers have felt the pressure of this growing interest and it was
at their request that she furnished the data for a biographical sketch that
was to be written of her. But when this actually came to hand, the
present compiler found that the author had told a story so much more
interesting than anything he could write of her, that it became merely a
question of how little need be added.
The following pages are therefore adapted from what might be styled
the personal record of Gene Stratton-Porter. This will account for the
very intimate picture of family life in the Middle West for some years
following the Civil War.
Mark Stratton, the father of Gene Stratton-Porter, described his wife, at
the time of their marriage, as a "ninety-pound bit of pink porcelain,
pink as a wild rose, plump as a partridge, having a big rope of bright
brown hair, never ill a day in her life, and bearing the loveliest name
ever given a woman--Mary." He further added that "God fashioned her
heart to be gracious, her body to be the mother of children, and as her
especial gift of Grace, he put Flower Magic into her fingers." Mary
Stratton was the mother of twelve lusty babies, all of whom she reared
past eight years of age, losing two a little over that, through an attack of
scarlet fever with whooping cough; too ugly a combination for even
such a wonderful mother as she. With this brood on her hands she
found time to keep an immaculate house, to set a table renowned in her
part of the state, to entertain with unfailing hospitality all who came to
her door, to beautify her home with such means as she could command,
to embroider and fashion clothing by hand for her children; but her
great gift was conceded by all to be the making of things to grow. At
that she was wonderful. She started dainty little vines and climbing
plants from tiny seeds she found in rice and coffee. Rooted things she
soaked in water, rolled in fine sand, planted according to habit, and

they almost never failed to justify her expectations. She even grew trees
and shrubs from slips and