Third Souvenir Main Page

Excerpts from Francis 

C. Waid's Third Souvenir

Submitted by David M. Waid 

May 7.--Went to Meadville on business, and while so engaged met several friends including Judge Henderson, whom I had not met since my return from Kansas. On my way home I called on Henry Smith, with whom I had a most enjoyable visit, and with the rest of the family met his father-in-law, William Chase, now eighty-two years of age, with whom I have been acquainted many years. At one time he owned a farm about a mile south of us [Now owned by Smith Galey], and when I taught school in the Moore School District, in Mead Township, in 1856-57, his children--two sons and two daughters--were attending that school. Mrs. Henry Smith was the eldest in the family, and now she has two children of her own--Jennie and Hettie--both grown to womanhood.

May 9.--The poet Gray has sung of "The breezy call of incense breathing morn," and I think when he wrote that beautiful line he must have been luxuriating in a simple early morning ramble in the country, any time in the merry month of May. "God made the country, man made the city," and midst the charms of rural scenes how refreshing it is to look from nature up to nature's God! These May mornings are incomparable in their beauty and sweetness, and as I look around me, viewing the fine fields of grass and grain, I do not feel that I can fully endorse the opinion that we are having a "backward spring"--indeed, as I passed down the fertile Woodcock valley this afternoon on my way on foot to Saegertown, I became impressed with the idea that if the early blossoming of wild strawberries, which I saw by the wayside, is any indication at all, we were having rather a "forward spring" than otherwise.

Spring

"The evening was glorious, and light through the trees

Played the sunshine and rain-drops, the birds and the breeze;

The landscape, outstretching in loveliness, lay

On the lap of the year, in the beauty of May.

For the Queen of the Spring, as she passed down the vale,

Left her robe on the trees, and her breath on the gale;

And the smile of her promise gave joy to the hours,

And fresh in her footsteps sprang herbage and flowers."

Remaining over night in Saegertown with my friend, Mr. George Floyd, I was pleased to find Mrs. Floyd looking and feeling better than when I called on them in April. In the evening I attended, with Brother Floyd, the prayer meeting in the M. E. Church, which I the more enjoyed as it brought to me pleasant memories of the past, when in former years I experienced so many similar blessed privileges in company with Mr. Floyd's father at other places. There is great help in true prayer, and sweet music in Christian song.

"Music," wrote Martin Luther, "is the art of the prophets, the only art that can calm the agitations of the soul; it is one of the most magnificent and delightful presents God has given us." Yes, dear reader, the elements of music are in everything around us; they are found in every part of creation; in the chirping of the feathered choristers of nature; in the calls and cries of the various animals; in the melancholy murmur of the water-fail; in the wild roar of the waves--"The voice of the great Creator dwells in that mighty tone;" in the hum of the distant multitude and in the varying winds--alike when the dying cadence falls lightly on the ear as when the hurricane sweeps past, dealing destruction as it goes.

"There's music in the sighing of the reed,

There's music in the gushing of the rill,

There's music in all things if men had ears,

Their earth is but an echo of the spheres!"

Next morning on my way to the train, I dropped in to see and shake the friendly hand of Hon. S. Slocum at his home, where I was pleased to form the acquaintance of Mrs. Slocum's mother, Mrs. Manville, who was there on a visit, and whose husband I had often met.

Sunday, May 11.--This day I passed in Meadville, in the forenoon attending church and Sunday-school at State Street, where I heard our own pastor, Rev. James Clyde, preach from the text: Thy will be done. At the close of the Sunday-school exercises the superintendent, Brother St. John, remarked to the meeting: "We have still five minutes, and I see Brother Waid is here from State Road. You all remember how our library was increased by his offer which we accepted, and we will now be glad to hear from our friend." Well, if I had been asked for a dollar or so, that would have been quite another matter; but to expect from me a speech! I was reminded of the schoolboy's lesson--the most difficult question or problem often comes first, and demands our strongest efforts; so I did the best I could, knowing that we get credit for what we do, not what we think we will do and then leave undone. Men may be unmindful of the little duties of life, like children forgetting to obey their parents; but our Heavenly Father is not thus unmindful of us, as even for a cup of cold water He gives a reward. No duty cheerfully performed goes unrewarded. Now, I could not say much to the Sunday-school class, but what I had to say I did willingly for the Master, because I owed it to Him for the thousands of blessings He has bestowed upon me. When Brother St. John asked me to speak, I hesitated, as I thought time could be better improved than by my trying to say anything; but he quietly said to me, "Mr. Waid, you can at any rate say 'How do you do?'" So, as I do not believe in "giving away" friends, but rather in profiting by what they may say, I addressed the school in substance as follows: "How do you do? This is lovely Sunday morning. I am very glad to be with you in this Sabbath-school, and share with you the benefits from our lesson. To-day I am contented and happy in the thought that I have enjoyed this privilege so long. It is probably fifty years since my parents took my twin brother and myself to the Sunday-school at the old State Road appointment, and I have been enjoying it ever since. I was there last Sunday, and it is no wonder I am here to-day; I love the Sunday-school and church. I became a member of the M. E. Church at State Road in 1851, and my scholarship as a member of the Sunday-school is about ten years older than my membership in the church. I look upon the Sunday-school as the nursery of the church. Children, it is an excellent conservatory for the producing of good men and women and true Christians. Some writer has said that we answer our own prayers. It is true we are co-workers with the Master for good, and what we can do ourselves He does not do for us. We are to work for ourselves and for the good of others, not only in the Sunday-school, but everywhere else as opportunities present themselves. Opportunities are God's offers to us; we do the work, and He pays us for doing it. We ought often to ask the Lord, 'What wilt Thou have me to do?' And in all things our duty is to obey. You will find that obedience and submission to His will bring their own blessing. The child, in health, asks for a drink of water; the parent says, 'There it is, wait on yourself.' But when the child is sick, and unable to help itself, how willingly the parent will come to its assistance! In that manner our kind Father in Heaven helps us. I had intended to go home yesterday evening, but on account of the rain and some business engagements did not get away; but I am cheered to-day with the thought that I am on my journey to my Heavenly home where I expect to meet you when our work on earth is done." After hearing by the Sunday-school report that the collection was not large, I doubled it by handing the superintendent $1.50, which he said he would see duly credited. In the afternoon I attended, along with my friend Mr. Derby, the Y. M. C. A. meeting held in the Richmond Block, where we listened to an excellent discourse on "Temperance" by Rev. Hays, of Meadville, a Presbyterian minister.

May 12.--To-day my son Fred, who has for some time back been very ill, was, I am glad to say, sufficiently recovered to visit his wife's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Haines, in Brookville, Penn. Frank and Guinnip, my other two sons, have been baling hay for several days, with the aid of a hay-press which they had bought, rightly thinking that they could dispose of pressed hay to better advantage than in bulk, as they could sell it either at home or abroad, with a choice of markets; moreover baled-hay is most economical as regards storage in the barn, as compared with hay in bulk, and they could do a good deal of baling for neighbors and others, which in the course of time would in itself pay for the press.

May 15.--While sitting alone in the house to-day writing in my diary, my brother called in. He had just returned from Enterprise, Warren Co., Penn., whither he had gone with his two sons, Grant and Plumer, who are filling a contract for bark-peeling. After some little conversation, chiefly on some business in which we wished to consult each others' interest, we set out to look at some property known as the old mill property of Daniel Cowen, situated on Woodcock Creek, one mile north of Blooming Valley, and built in 1832. We went on foot, and on our way entered the cemetery grounds and viewed the spot where our kindred sleep. The old mill property, which includes five acres with grist-mill, house, barn and other buildings, looks to us very desolate and dilapidated, it having been tenantless and empty for some time back. It did not need anyone to tell me that charge and decay are written on everything that pertains to earth, when I fix my eyes on this old mill that was built a year before I was born. I have not said it looked inviting, but my brother owns it and wishes to rent or sell it, notwithstanding its weather-beaten condition.

Sunday, May l8.--Again I had the privilege of attending our own church at State Road, and was profited much by the services. Our regular pastor, Mr. Clyde, was assisted by Rev. Chamberlin, of Meadville, an aged gentleman who had been forty-four years in the ministry. Mr. Clyde spoke from the text, He that was rich for our sakes became poor that we might be made rich. After the services he announced in substance the following: "Our basket meeting, or gathering of the people far and near at this place for one week, will begin May 31. This meeting, which takes the place of camp-meeting which used to be held, is expected to produce good results. I am looking for a large number to be present, and we have to get things in readiness."

May 19, 20.--We have had a remarkably wet spring so far, and but few farmers in our vicinity have had their oats sowed or potatoes planted yet--in fact it is altogether too wet for either garden or farm work, and there is a good deal of ground and many a garden not plowed for spring crops. Some one remarked in my hearing the other day, "We have had so much rain, what will farmers do?" The answer is: "Have faith and wait patiently, for all will be well," remembering that seed-time and harvest are promised to the end of the world: While the earth remaineth, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease [Genesis viii: 22.]. God's promises are sure: Go forth to the duties of to-day trusting in Him. He will guide thee and it shall be well with thee, and the earth will bring forth fruit for man and beast. He openeth his hand and the wants of all living are satisfied.

Being in Meadville I called on an old acquaintance, Benjamin McNeil, who is in his eighty-second year. He is in poor health, and has been unable to be out since the death of his son James, which occurred, I understand, four weeks ago, aged thirty-two years.

May 21.--On my way home I was informed by Homer Ellsworth, a near neighbor, of the death, on the 18th instant, of his father, aged about four-score years; and later in the day I learned through P. M. Cutshall of the death, on the 20th, of his sister, Mrs. Mary Jane Seaman, in her fifty-ninth year. I attended her funeral to the Rudle Cemetery [This cemetery has been enlarged and improved during the past year, and now presents an attractive appearance], and heard the sermon preached on the occasion, by Rev. H. McClintock, the subject being: The righteous hath hope in his death.--A good name is better than precious ointment, and the day of death than the day of one's birth. Her seven children were present--three sons and four daughters--all married except the youngest son and daughter.

On the 22d, in the morning, my cousin, Charles Morehead, and I took a look over his farm, and afterward made a call on Mrs. Israel Morehead and daughter, who live on a well-tilled farm near by, and whom my wife, Eliza, and I visited three years ago. Charles Morehead is the youngest in the family of my uncle, the late William Morehead, with whom I worked so many days on my father's farm in my youth and early manhood, and it brings to me very many pleasant memories as I walk and talk with Charles, who is so kindly caring for his aged mother, whose health is good and whose industry is great for her time of life. On my way to see Mr. D. H. McCrillis, Mr. H. Sutton, with whom I staid over night, accompanied me, and thence I proceeded to William Fleek's, near Tryonville, where I called to see his son, who two weeks ago had received a severe cut on the head by accident, but is now fast recovering. My next visit was with my cousin, George A. Goodwill, who accompanied me to Frank Sturgis' place, where I met my aunt Phebe at her daughter's, which was quite a pleasing surprise to me, as I had not heard of her being here.

May 24.--To-day Frank Sturgis drove me over to Titusville, about seven or eight miles from here. In the palmy days of oildom, from 1860 on, I used to find a good market in this town for my farm produce, and with no small degree of pleasure do I think of the good prices and ready sale I got. Then, as now, I had friends and relatives in Titusville, always pleased to see me. To-day I am stopping with my brother-in-law, Avery W. Masiker, who has his twin sons, Emery and Emmett, with him at home, but his two daughters are married. Among many other calls in the town I went to see an old acquaintance of ours in the person of Wilson Smith [His mother is still living and is our nearest neighbor. Wilson was a particular friend of my twin brother, Franklin, and I shall never forget how sad he felt when I informed him of my brother's death], also Mrs. Angeline Brown, who married, for her first husband, Oscar Allen, a second cousin of my own, by which union there are yet living four children. In the evening, after a stroll about the town, Avery and I attended the meeting of the Salvation Army, and were eyewitnesses to the ceremony of "commissioning officers," religious exercises quite new to me; so I learned something profitable in that line also. Before the day closed I met Asa Davis, whom I had not seen for several years. Next day, Sunday, we went to the M. E. Church, where we heard my old friend, Rev. John Lusher [Rev. John Lusher was the officiating minister at the marriage of my son Fred, at Brookville, Jefferson Co., Penn., March 7, l889], preach from the text, We know thou art a teacher come from God: also attended class-meeting and Sunday-school, all of which deeply interested us.

In the evening we went to vespers at the Episcopal Church, and afterward called on my old scholar and friend Walter W. Thompson, who drew the record for the Blooming Valley school in 1852, and this was a mutually very pleasant reunion; then we attended the memorial services at the M. E. Church, which was crowded to the doors, and found the exercises very interesting and impressive. Mr. Lusher chose for his text Judges v: 8: Then was war in the gates, which he formed as the groundwork for his argument in speaking of wars and rumors of wars from time immemorial, both by Bible chain of evidence and by secular history, down to our own Civil War. Avery, in the course of my visit, gave me some information about my relatives living in the West, especially making mention of J. Cunningham, who he said lived 104 miles from Lansing, Iowa, and seventy-seven miles from McGregor.

May 20.--Called on Dr. W. H. Coombs, a dentist in Titusville, in order to see Mrs. Frank Jackson who, I was told by her husband when he visited us (myself and Anna) some time since, was living with her mother in Titusville; the Doctor, however, informed me that Mrs. Jackson had just gone to Buffalo, N. Y., on a visit. I then proceeded to Grand Valley, about twelve miles distant, to see my cousins Cyrus and Martha Brown, who lived a short distance from the town; and as I walked to their place on this bright sunny morning, I thoroughly enjoyed the balmy air and the view of the green-clad hills, feeling as did Milton when he perpetuated on paper these beautiful lines: "In the vernal seasons of the year, when the air is soft and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against Nature not to go and see her riches, and partake of her rejoicings with Heaven and earth."

I found the Brown family busy--Mrs. Brown house cleaning, and Mr. Brown and their son working out road-tax near their home. After dinner I went to the farm of Mr. R. Hutchinson, and took a look over his place, which is chiefly timber; there is one shingle mill on it, and another in the vicinity, both of which we saw in running order; also viewed the old oil well. I next dropped in on my cousin Horace Goodwill, who has a good farm of about sixty acres, quite well improved, with excellent grass lands and luxuriant meadows of timothy and clover. The night I spent at Mr. Brown's, and following day I called on Mrs. Hannah Lord, but found her not at home; thence went to see her son Adolphus Smith, a blacksmith by trade, with whom I dined; after which we called on Isaac Teasdale [I have since learned of Mr. Teasdale's death, which occurred some time this spring], and had a social chat with Andrew Smith, Oliver Heelyer and other friends' formerly from Blooming Valley. Adolphus Smith had just bought a lot, which George Bush surveyed for him, I carrying the chain.

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