Third Souvenir Main Page

Excerpts from Francis 

C. Waid's Third Souvenir

Submitted by David M. Waid 

April 21.--Good weather continues; farmers are very busy putting in their oat crop, and for several days in succession my boys and myself find ample work around us wherein to "improve each shining hour."

April 23.--My fifty-eighth birthday. My heart is glad to see this day, and I humbly thank the Lord for the continuance of His mercies to me. God's goodness has been great to me, and I know that I should let neither day nor night pass without; hallowing it by remembering what He hath done for me. It naturally becomes especially interesting to me, when I pause for a brief space, and reflect that my life is but a journey from the cradle to the tomb! The several years of our lives mark the milestones by the way, and to-day I read on one of these the figures 58, a silent witness that I am passing through the gateway from 58 to 59. And as my mind's eye is fixed on this wayside monitor, I am thinking where and how I can best make use of my time. Morning comes, and I start out on the duty of the day, striving hard to fill my mission by the way. And, as in years gone by my birthdays I have somewhat noticed by sketching a little with my pen, leaving my thoughts and acts with my fellow men, I will adopt the same course on this occasion.

Early in the morning I paid a visit to my venerable friend and nearest neighbor, Mary Kiser, now in her ninetieth year. On my remarking that I had called in to see her on my fifty-eighth birthday, she said: "I am not very well; can't sit up any more, and I feel very poorly, but I am still here, Francis." From there I went to my youngest son's place, where I helped to do chores, working around till noon, and then, in company with Mr. B. Danford, who is now in his eighty-fourth year, I drove to Meadville to attend to some little business. My mail there brought me a letter from my wife, Anna, who is still residing with her parents in Kansas, on account of her health, perferring to remain there instead of in Pennsylvania, as she thinks the western climate better for her case than what we have here in the East. She speaks in her letter (dated April 20) of their early spring in Kansas, fruit trees being in full bloom, etc. From Meadville I proceeded to my cousin's (R. A. Fergerson), spending there a few hours, and then called to see my uncle (whose health is quite good for such an aged man) and some other relatives--just short visits--and I was pleased with the many congratulations I received in all quarters, which made it a day of welcome to me. In the evening there were assembled at the residence of my eldest son, Franklin, for a quiet birthday celebration, my brother and his wife and second daughter, Mrs. Elizabeth Riddle, from Bradford, Penn. [Mrs. Riddle was visiting her parents at this time], Mrs. Mary Fergerson, Moses Masiker, and all my children and grandchildren. The party was a success, I think, in many ways. A very pleasant evening was passed, and I felt that if my wife, Anna, could be with us, my cup of happiness would be filled to overflowing. I know more of this life's experience now than I did fifty years ago; have learned not a little, and have studied the law of kindness, trying to make peace and preserve it among all my kindred and friends, by the fireside and in the field, at home and abroad.

April 25.--After a visit along with my cousin, Mrs. Fergerson, to my son Fred, we drove to Blooming Valley Cemetery, to once again look upon Eliza's resting place, as well as those of other of our kindred. On her grave I left a single flower as a simple token of remembrance from one who will ever hold her in blessed memory. From here we drove to the County Farm, where we had a pleasant visit with Mr. and Mrs. Cutshall, who showed us over the well-kept farm and surroundings; then, after thanking them for their hospitality and kindness, we returned to Mr. R. A. Fergerson's, four miles west of Meadville.

Sunday, April 26.--This forenoon I attended church at Watson's Run (Reformed Church), and heard a good practical sermon from Rev. D. H. Leader, his text being Revelations ii: 17. Afterward I went into the Brown Hill Cemetery, which is beautifully situated in the rear of the church on the slope of a hill, and with some friends visited the grave of John Curry, who had died July 13, 1890, when but sixteen years of age, much lamented by many who regarded him as a noble boy. The afternoon I spent with my uncle, Robert Morehead, who, as I have already stated, is in his ninetieth year and quite feeble; on the following day I came home to make preparations for my trip to Warren County, Penn., on business matters, and to visit friends, a journey that I have been wishing to make ever since my return home from the West last January.

April 28.--I set off on my journey on foot, as my object was to make the trip across the county, traveling by rail when convenient; moreover I have long since learned that walking is one of the best of exercises, if not the very best, in a hygienic point of view, as it in various ways tends to promote health and vigor, without which earth loses its attractions and we our ambition. About noon, after a few calls on friends en route, I found myself at Townville, about twelve miles from my starting point, and here received a kind welcome from relatives, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Arnold, and others. From there I proceeded on my way, in company with my kinsman, Mr. Phillips, who drove me part of the way to my aunt's, and the night I spent with my friend, Mr. Harrison Sutton.

On Wednesday I had a business call and several other tarryings on my way to Tryonville, where I would have remained longer than I did, had I not been obliged to hasten on my journey. Here I found old schoolmates and scholars, relatives and friends, all to be visited within the space of a few hours. I passed the night under the hospitable roof of Mr. and Mrs. Frank Sturgis, and next morning I was favored with the company of their only son, Ira, a young man, as far as Titusville (a seven-mile walk), traveling by way of the farm place of Omri Goodwill, whom I was desirous of visiting, and who, I found, was building a new house. The four hours I could spare in Titusville I spent well, making several calls and meeting quite a number of friends, from some of whom I heard about others in the West and elsewhere all helpful, I trust, to each of us: As in water face answereth to face, so the heart of man to man--glad to meet. Taking train at 3 P. M., I was soon in Grand Valley, and then about a four-mile walk brought me to Sanford, where Cyrus Brown lives. Here I was a welcome visitor, and glad indeed was I to see them again, and enjoy their friendship. The weather hereabouts has been very dry for several weeks back, and fires had to be put out in places where they were doing damage. On the Goodwill Hill, where there are many oil wells and buildings in connection, I understand they were paying hands fifty cents per hour to fight the fires and protect property. While at Mr. Brown's, an aged neighbor, Mr. Danford Van Guihler, called in to have a chat; he once lived near us, but I had not seen him for many years.

My next calls, as I continued my journey, were on Mr. Brown's son-in-law, Mr. Wilson, and on my cousin, Horace Goodwill, who met with a misfortune March 26, 1891, in having his house and part of his furniture destroyed by fire. There was no insurance, but with characteristic energy Mr. Goodwill immediately rebuilt, and when I was there his new home was fast nearing completion. From there, in the afternoon, I went to see a Mr. Hutchison, an old acquaintance; thence walked a mile or two farther on, to the railroad station at Newton, where I took a train for Garland (my first visit there), especially to see my venerable aunt, Phebe Goodwill, who is living with her youngest son, Albert. Her health, although she is in her eightieth year, is remarkably good just now, better, in fact, than it has been of late. I here remained until Saturday morning, when I journeyed on by train to Corry, where, at the depot, I met my friend, Rev. J. A. Parsons, at one time pastor at Saegertown and Blooming Valley. After a call on my friend, Rev. A. S. Goodrich, I walked out about five miles to see my niece, Mrs. Julia Brennesholtz (nee Masiker) and her husband, who live on their fifty-acre farm. After her father died, Julia came to live with us September 20, 1863, she being then in her twelfth year. She has now been married about seventeen years, and I do not think I have seen her or her husband since 1884, when they paid us a visit.

When some two miles on my way to their home I stopped at the State Fishery, to rest and enjoy the pleasant sights there--numerous ponds, stocked with a variety of delicious fish, such as brook trout, etc.; there was also a pleasant grove of pines, in a portion of which were an enclosure for fowls and a hatching or incubating house; but fish culture is the main purpose of the institution. After an hour's rest and writing in my diary, I continued my walk to Mr. and Mrs. Brennesholtz', where on my arrival I met with a most cordial greeting; indeed the happiness of the meeting and enjoyment of the visit were equally divided among us. I then walked back to South Corry, and met Mr. Goodrich at his appointment--Sunday-school and preaching. He and myself were Sabbath-school scholars together at the old State Road Church more than forty-five years ago, Charles Breed being our teacher; and here, now, in Corry to spend a Sabbath in each other's company was, indeed, a feast of pleasure.

Sunday, May 3.--According to promise, I went to North Corry M. E. Church in the forenoon, arriving before Sunday-school hour, and as Greenwood Cemetery, a beautiful "City of the Dead," some ten acres in extent, lies just opposite the church, I took, in company with a gentleman whose name I do not now remember, a meditative stroll through its silent streets. Sunday-school, however, soon called me back, the services of which were most interesting, and at the close I was asked to address a few words to the meeting, which I did with a hearty assent. The sermon afterward (in the regular service), which was preached by Mr. Goodrich, was very helpful to me, and my heart was made glad as I listened to his eloquent appeal to his hearers to listen to Gospel truths. His text was from Zechariah viii: 23: We will go with you, for we have heard that God is with you. A truly grand subject, significant in its interpretation, expressive and impressive in its very simplicity. In the afternoon I accompanied Mr. Goodrich to his afternoon appointment at Carter Hill, a small town about six miles from Corry, where were also held Sabbath-school and service, in the former of which I was privileged to take my seat in the Bible class among my relatives--my niece and her husband. The subject Mr. Goodrich chose for his regular sermon was "Friendship," and I do not remember of having ever heard a more sympathetic and edifying discourse. The remainder of the afternoon Mr. Goodrich and I passed at the home of my nephew and niece, and in the evening we drove back to Corry (calling, on the way, on a sick lady, Sister Staples), arriving in time to attend service at South M. E. Church, where Rev. J. A. Parsons preached from Psalm lxxxiv: 10: For a day in Thy courts is better than a thousand. I had rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God, than to dwell in the tents of wickedness. A good sermon to close a blessed, profitable, wholesome Sabbath day, shared with Christian friends, and crowned with many favors from the Lord, which seemed to increase in blessings as the day sped in its flight from morn to night.

May 4.--In the morning, before leaving, I was shown through Mr. Goodrich's new house, adjoining his own pleasant residence, and which I understand he is building for his son-in-law; then made a farewell call on Rev. J. A. Parsons who lives near by, and, just before taking train for my return trip home, I met an old friend in the person of Mr. Henry Thursting, who greeted me very kindly. The "steam-horse" was not long in taking me to Meadville, and I arrived at my Blooming Valley home on Monday evening, well and thankful for safe return. From my cousin, S. Phillips, at whose place I tarried on my way from Meadville, I learned of the illness, death and funeral of Lovina Ellis, whom I had known from her childhood. Our friends pass away, one by one, and the evening of life comes to all. But there is a Better Land where comes no eventide, and where the night is as clear as the day.

"The day is gently sinking to a close,

Fainter and yet more faint the sunlight glows;

O Brightness of Thy Father's glory, Thou,

Eternal Light of Light, be with us now,

Where Thou art present darkness can not be,

Midnight is glorious noon, O Lord, with Thee.

"The weary world is moldering to decay,

Its glories wane, its pageants fade away;

In that last sunset, when the stars shall fall,

May we arise, awakened by Thy call,

With Thee, O Lord, for ever to abide

In that blest day which has no eventide."

May 5.--Yesterday Old Father Winter must have returned, for something he had left behind, perhaps his overcoat, when taking his departure several weeks ago, judging by the snow-storm we had, the iciness of the breeze and the two inches of snow found mantling the ground this morning, but which by nine o'clock was being fast thawed into geniality 'neath Old Sol's cheering smile. Fruit trees--apples, pears, plums and peaches--are now in bloom, and this chilly weather is anything but beneficial to them.

May 7.--Went to Meadville on business, and while there called at Mr. S. C. Derby's, where I learned that the daughter, Eunice Derby, had been married to Lewis Duvall [The wedding was on Wednesday evening, May 6th, at the home of the bride's parents. They said had they known I was at home I would have been invited, as I was a home friend of theirs, a boarder and long acquaintance. This I appreciated as renewing friendship, for I would always rather add two friends to the list than lose one], and to the young couple I offered my best congratulations; also called on an old friend who lives on College Hill, Mrs. Jane Adams, whom I have known many years, and who I was sorry to learn had been a suffering invalid since last fall, her friends even despairing of her recovery. I also made a short visit with an aged couple, Rev. Morrison and his wife, the former of whom is in his eighty-third year, and nearly blind. After kindly greetings he said to me: "Brother Francis Waid, I never expected to meet you again here; but I remember you and your wife, and of the time I used to visit you; I thought you were such good, earnest Christians. I have often thought of you; how glad I am to meet you again." He then inquired about the church, and how we were getting along, in many other ways making my visit very agreeable and interesting. This good, honored, venerable couple have two sons living, both ministers in the South, and had one daughter, Mary, who died about two years ago. On my return home I thought of my friends, Mr. and Mrs. David Roberts, who live near here, and whose son, Emery, I visited while at Lawrence, Kas., last December. Accordingly, I set out and soon found myself at their cosy home. The road thither leads to Hatch Hill, and the scenery on either side is enchantingly beautiful, Nature seeming to smile her sweetest in her graceful garb of modest maiden springtime.

Farm after farm, as I passed them, I looked on with delight; orchards in bloom, fields with verdure clad, here and there herds of cattle and flocks of sheep--all gladdening to a farmer's heart, even though all his lifetime accustomed to such refreshing scenes. My visit with Mr. and Mrs. Roberts and their son, Armitage, was both enjoyable and profitable, and of Mr. Roberts himself I must say that I look upon him as a thorough farmer, a good citizen and a Christian man, his helpmeet a Christian woman.

May 8.--Visited my neighbor, Newton S. Chase, who lives one mile south of us, and I found all the family and help busy at work, both within doors and out on the farm, which bore every evidence of prosperity. It was the source of much enjoyment to me to look over the fine farm, ascend the gentle slopes of the hillsides, luxurite in the valley beside the living stream of crystal water that ran there, or cool myself among the shady maple trees or in the orchard. As Mr. Chase owns a large portion of the Harris Farm, of which my eldest son, Franklin, bought the remaining thirty acres recently, he accompanied me over it, and I now looked upon it with perhaps greater interest than ever before. Our love for our children leads us to know what they have and do; and what parent is not pleased to see them do well? We visit a great deal sometimes in a few hours, indeed, a good visit does not always depend on the amount of time devoted to it. So ended a truly pleasant visit, and as we said "good-bye," my friends' "come again" brought from me the responsive "Our latchstring is always out, come any time." All genuine, unsophisticated rural friendship!

Sunday, May 10.--It is ever pleasant and desirable to be among Christian people on the Sabbath day. My friends are all, so far as I know, kind to me, and I have a desire to reciprocate in some measure by being good to them, for I appreciate their kindness. Dr. T. C. Beach, of the M. E. Church, in giving his testimony for Christ in the class room, to-day, said: "I am satisfied with Christ" But, is He with me?--A very important question, and it does me good as I consider and reconsider it, and make a study of it with my friends and for my friends, for I love in this connection to remember their interests as well as my own.

A beautiful Sabbath morning dawned on Meadville, and there seemed to be nothing vile but man. I am this day privileged to worship my Maker in the company of honored friends--Charles Slocum, for one (the playmate of my childhood), as well as his brother, Emery, and wife, from Ohio, whom I had not met for years. How glad I was to meet them and accompany them to the M. E. Church to listen to the excellent sermon delivered by Dr. Beach, whose text was 2 Peter i: 5, 6, 7! I have listened in my lifetime to not a few good sermons that have fed my soul, and helped me in divine life, and this forenoon's discourse was one of them, for it was as manna to my hungry soul. Then the class meeting (led by Brother Reed Coder, who was converted at State Road Church revivals held in the winter of 1850-51) increased my satisfaction. After the sermon I shook hands with the good pastor, remarking that I had been "feasting on spiritual food," to which he replied: "Then you had faith." Well, I think it is a blessed privilege to come in contact with those who have more faith than we ourselves have. His presence in the class room cheered us. How good it is to dwell in unity and love!

In the afternoon Charles Slocum accompanied me to Greendale Cemetery, where we viewed many of the graves of friends and relatives. Among the monuments there stands an attractive one erected by the students of Allegheny College to the memory of President John Barker, a man whom I always loved, and from whose Christian teaching and example I learned much. The inscription on this monument reads as follows:

Rev John Barker.

BORN IN THE EAST RIDING OF YORKSHIRE, ENGLAND,

March 17, 1813:

DIED FEBRUARY 26, 1860.

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