Many years ago, when just a kid in high school, I was taken to see the great Niagara Falls. Of all the sights that intrigued and awed, one that stayed with me since then was the sight of a lonely barge, called a scow, sitting precariously just a few hundred yards upstream from the precipice of the Niagara Falls on the Canadian side. I wondered how it got there, and I was told bits and pieces of what others had heard, of what was, of course, hearsay...
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