combed through Clover's letters to relatives for more hints of her depression.

In 1885, with her photos appearing on covers of national magazines, Clover drank potassium cyanide, which she used to develop her pictures, and died.

And what of Henry Adams?

The marriage was a chilly affair and as Clover aged Henry became attracted to young women in their Washington circle.

When Clover died he commissioned the famous statue for his wife's cemetery plot (known as "Grief") sculpted by Augustus Saint Gaudens, and never spoke of her if he could avoid it, even though he lived another 33 years.

Even more sadly he never mentioned her in his Pulitzer Prize winning autobiography. So I figure he was not only a sanctimonious prig, but a cold cucumber as well.

Speaking of Brahmins, Minnesota has itsshare of its own aristocrats and many make their appearance in a new coffee table book by Rick Shefchik, longtime Pioneer Press reporter and now a freelancer living in Stillwater.

Names like U.S. Secretary of State Frank B. Kellogg, "Pudge" Heffelfinger, Jimmy Johnston, Duncan MacMillan, Patty Berg, Lucius P. Ordway, Pierce Butler pop up in the pages of "From Fields to Fairways: Classic Golf Clubs of Minnesota (University of Minnesota Press, $39.95) as Shefchik combs club histories, archives and photo albums to reclaim a very important segment of social history, as well as demonstrating that Minnesota, out here on the prairie, was a prime contributor to the development of golf as a popular sport.

Shefchik shows how famous golf links, past and present, came to be, explain the problems faced