Third Souvenir Main Page

Excerpts from Francis 

C. Waid's Third Souvenir

Submitted by David M. Waid 

May 11.--In the afternoon I attended the funeral of an old friend, Mrs. Adam Morris, who passed away in her seventy-fourth year, the death of whose husband, Adam Morris, is mentioned at page 232, SECOND SOUVENIR. Mrs. Morris had of late been living with her daughter and son-in-law, Mr. and Mrs. Abbott, near Waterford, Erie Co., Penn., and her funeral was from the Wilson school-house, in our township, to the Long Cemetery, myself being one of the pall-bearers; Rev. H. McClintock officiated, as he also did on the occasion of Mr. Morris' funeral. From the cemetery I went to Saegertown, to visit my friend, Mr. G. Floyd, who is in rather poor health at present. On the following day I paid another visit to the County Farm to see Mr. and Mrs. George Cutshall, superintendent and matron, respectively, of the Alms House; then as I came through Germantown I called on my recently married niece, Jennie, my brother George's youngest daughter, my first visit there since her marriage. Other relatives and friends I also dropped in to say "good-day" to, among them being my near neighbor, Mr. Miller, who has been so long ill, and whose wife, Sarah, was badly injured last Saturday by being thrown from a buggy at the bridge across Woodcock Creek, while driving along with her son. In the house I found the daughter, Mrs. James Titus, and daughter-in-law, Mrs. George Miller, kindly caring for the aged couple in their affliction. In the evening I dropped in to see Mr. Jay Harris and Mr. Rider, at both of whose homes I was pleasantly entertained, particularly by Mr. Harris and his musical family.

May 15.--To-day the new large bank barn, 46x64 feet in dimensions, part two stories and part three stories in height, was raised on the place where my son, Franklin I., now lives, and known as the Goodrich Farm. There was plenty of help, though farmers are pretty busy, about fifty being present, forty three of whom sat down to dinner, ten remaining after 3 P. M. to complete some of the work. The hand of the diligent not only maketh rich, but doeth a great deal of labor! What a number of barn raisings, besides other buildings, and "bees" did my father and his family help on in days past! And now to his grandchildren the labor is being returned. No one can say, truly, that a kind act is never rewarded. It pays to do good. No farmer can raise a crop without sowing the seed, unless it be the crop of idleness, that bringeth shame.

Sunday, May 17.--I attended State Street M. E. Church, this forenoon, and heard a good sermon from our pastor, Rev. J. H. Laverty, the subject being '' Liberality," and the text, 2 Corinthians ix: 13. In the afternoon Mr. Derby accompanied me to the funeral of Dr. C. M. Yates, an old citizen of Meadville. He had recently been living at Baltimore, Md., where he died at the advanced age of eighty-eight years, and his body was brought to Meadville for interment in Greendale Cemetery, the services being conducted by Rev. Rogers Israel, pastor of the Protestant Episcopal Church (Christ Church), under the auspices of the Freemasons. In the evening my friend and I attended the Baptist Church, where we listened to Rev. W. H. Marshall's exposition of the narrative about Joseph's first imprisonment.

May 20.--To-day, at their home in Guy's Mills, was celebrated the" Silver Wedding" of Charles and Nancy Wygant, and as a matter of course I was one of the many who were present, walking all the way, some seven miles, in preference to driving. They were married May 20, 1866, by Rev. Eberman, in State Road M. E. Church; and I remember (for I was present at this wedding) that on the same day, at our church, Rev. James Wygant, Charles' father, married Homer Elsworth and his bride. The guests at this silver wedding were numerous and happy, "a right merrie companie," as our great-grand-parents would have called it, and about each of the seven ages of man were represented--from childhood to senility. They enjoyed a rich repast, fine music (both vocal and instrumental), stirring speeches--in short, "had a good old-fashioned time," and at the close each returned to his or her home in a very happy mood. For myself, I left Mr. Wygant's about 4 P. M., and proceeded to Mr. P. M. Cutshall's, some three miles from Guy's Mills, where I made a brief visit, and then concluded my homeward journey.

May 21, 22, 23.--Sweet, refreshing showers have come to us, most welcome to the parched soil and thirsty growth of the land, so much in need of the reviving influence of rain. All nature seems to praise the Lord, and why should not man join in the glad song, and the tribute of His praise prolong?

We have no tears Thou wilt not dry;

We have no wounds Thou wilt not heal;

No sorrows pierce our human hearts

That Thou, dear Father, dost not feel.

Thy pity like the dew distils,

And Thy compassion, like the light,

Our every morning overfills,

And crowns with stars our every night."

Sunday, May 24.--This forenoon I attended the First Presbyterian Church, Rev. K. C. Hays, pastor; text from I John iii: 2: We shall be like Him, for we shall see Him as He is. In the afternoon C. R. Slocum accompanied me to a temperance meeting held in the First M. E. Church; address by Mrs. M. B. Ross, of Cambridgeboro, Penn., president of the W. C. T. U., and sketches of temperance workers, by Miss Warner--noble women in the cause. Then, in the evening, in the same M. E. Church, were held the Memorial Services of the G. A. R., a very large audience being assembled, who attentively listened, I will venture to say, to one of the most interesting and eloquent discourses they ever had the pleasure of hearing. Rev. W. H. Marshall, of the Baptist Church, Meadville, who delivered it, chose for his text the exhortation of Paul the Apostle to Timothy, to do the duty of a faithful servant of the Lord: Thou, therefore, endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ. What a practical lesson was drawn from this text, and how faithfully was it set forth by the reverend lecturer! It seemed to me like scattering seed on good ground, and I pray that what fell on my heart may bear fruit abundantly in Christ's name.

May 26.--As we were requiring about 40,000 shingles to cover the new barn my son is building, I accompanied him and his hired man, with two teams, to Little Cooley, where I purchased of Mr. Thomas F. Smith, at his saw and shingle mill, 40,000 good pine shingles--8,000 shaved, 32,000 sawed. I think it was in 1848 that my father built our horse barn, and well do I remember working on it, the following incident coming fresh to my memory: My brother, Lyman, and Justus Goodwill took the Masiker girls, Jane and Eliza, to the circus and menagerie, then exhibiting in Meadville, while I remained behind to help shingle the barn, a something in our experiences that my first wife and I often spoke of afterward. This old barn was built of durable material, the original roof, never reshingled, being yet sound, proof enough that my honest friend, Thomas F. Smith, manufactures good shingles, and I told him so to-day, which gratified him as much as it pleased me. We loaded up our shingles in good shape, and started for home, stopping, near Cooley, at the farm home of my nephew Orlando Waid, with whom I had some business, and as he was raising his bank barn, 30x40 feet in size, we were in good season to give him, along with my brother who was there also, a lift on part of the basement story. Then, continuing on our way homeward with our loads, we halted at New Richmond to see a relative, Mrs. Silas Clark, who has been an invalid from dropsy several years, and is now very poorly indeed. As I shook hands with her and introduced my son, she said: "Franklin, I have not seen you since you were married,'' which somewhat surprised me; how time does fly! "What! he was married March 15, 1877, and you have not seen one another since!" So we pursue the journey of life, some of us only meeting friends a few times here below. Starting our teams once more, we made direct for home, only halting a brief space to see my uncle, Horace Waid, and make a passing call in Blooming Valley.

May 28.--Just thirty-seven years ago to-day my twin brother Franklin died, but his memory yet lives. We journeyed life together a little over twenty-one years, and much of our joint experience has been, figuratively speaking, written in indelible ink, that never can be effaced from the tablets of my memory.

May 29.--There died this morning an old citizen of Blooming Valley (a resident since 1865), in the person of Mr. J. T. Odell, aged eighty years; funeral on Sunday at 2 P. M.; services at the M. E. Church. The road tax in our district is now being worked, my son, Fred, being path master, and as our new road machine, a scraper, called "Western Reversible," seems to work very well, we will likely have even better roads than usual, although, for a long time back, our township road, from Blooming Valley (State Road) to the Mead Township line, nearly a mile, has been really good. Clean roads please the farmer, and speed the traveler on his way, and as we ruralists like to see clean streets in cities or towns when we visit them, so townspeople, when they come out to see Nature's garden, and inhale the sweet breath of Heaven, delight in rambling along neat, well-kept roads. "In rural life," says Washington Irving, "there is nothing mean and debasing. It leads a man forth among scenes of natural grandeur and beauty; it leaves him to the workings of his mind, operated upon by the purest and most elevating of external influences." This is what gives the charm to country life, and nothing can detract from it save ragged-looking roads, dilapidated fences, and, ill-kept farms.

May 30, DECORATION DAY.--A year ago to-day I was in Cleveland, Ohio, attending the dedication of the Garfield Monument, and to-day I enjoy the pleasure of spending Decoration Day in Meadville, visiting Greendale Cemetery, beautifully decorated with flowers and little flags, loving tributes to the memory of our silent heroes. In the afternoon a large concourse of people, including Peifer Post, G. A. R., was assembled to listen to the excellent address delivered by Rev. Dr. T. C. Beach, of the First M. E. Church, who was introduced to the audience with a few remarks by Dr. T. L. Flood. In honoring the memory of the brave soldiers who bled and died to save our Union from dismemberment, we must not forget to honor the good God who has given to the world a Christian land like ours.

Sunday, May 31.--I attended two funerals to-day, services for both being held in the M. E. Church, Blooming Valley. The first one (in the forenoon) was that of a child of Mr. and Mr. Leonard Smith, nearly five years old; sermon by Rev. V. F. Duncle, pastor; text Job xxxvii: 21: And now men see not the bright light which is in the clouds; but the wind passeth and cleanseth them; the interment took place in the Smith Cemetery. How very dark it is here sometimes amidst our afflictions! And yet to the believer, to the true Christian, how radiant and resplendent appears everything beyond the conflicts of this life! He can realize how graciously God in His mercy deals with us here that we may be saved. The other funeral (in the afternoon) was that of J. T. Odell, whose death I have already referred to; sermon by Rev. W. H. Farrault, of Saegertown; text 2 Corinthians v: 8: We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from, the body, and to be present with the Lord. At the cemetery, Blooming Valley, I observed that Eliza's grave had been decorated the previous day by kind hands, showing that her memory yet lives in warm hearts other than my own [I want to say, the Lord bless them]. "Sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced."

June 3.--Among other letters I received one to-day from Bishop Willard F. Mallalieu, of New Orleans, the third I have been favored with from him, and I have to thank him for the interest he takes in my welfare in presenting an earnest appeal for aid toward the endowment of eight professorships in the medical college at New Orleans. I here give copy of the letter:

New Orleans, LA., May 29, 1891.

MY DEAR BROTHER: Yours of April 10 is now before me. The book has also been received, for which please accept my thanks. I have looked it through with interest--it is a SOUVENIR indeed! I shall place it in the library of the New Orleans University, where I trust it may remain for many years and generations. I am glad to know that God blessed you at Oil City Conference. It was a glorious season. I trust all our Conferences may be like it, only better and better as the years go on. I send with this a slip which will give you an idea of what I am trying to do. I want to endow eight professorships in our medical college. It will take $10,000 to endow any one of them. I wish you would take one, and give it your family name, or your own name in full. If you really desire to do good there is no better chance. The people for whom I plead are very poor, and have few friends. I hope God will put it into your heart to do what I ask. In this way, and for Christ's sake, you can visit the sick. It will be a better and more enduring monument than marble or bronze.

Very truly yours,

W. F. MALLALIEU.

I quote one sentence from the "slip" spoken of by the Bishop as enclosed to me: "Never from its portals shall any one be excluded on account of race, color, religion or sex." I confess I am glad to have had this matter brought to my notice, and am anxious to give the subject careful consideration, with the hope that with God's assistance I may arrive at a wise conclusion.

June 5.--The boys (my sons) and myself have been as "busy as bees," my own work consisting in mowing the door-yards, etc., whitewashing some pear and ornamental trees and shrubs, helping shingle, to-day, Franklin's new barn, and, while the scaffolding was being removed, I finished trimming and scraping the apple trees in the orchard (Goodrich Farm) [The job of pruning the three orchards for the boys I began several weeks ago, and was really glad to finish it]. Then after all this was done, boy-like I wanted to do not only a little more but something by which this day might be remembered; so I held a sort of formal opening of the New Barn by taking the wheelbarrow and putting in a load of old hay, and another of new-mown (cut to-day), remarking, as I did so, to my sons and others: "You can remember who put in the first hay into the new barn." And yet this was not so much for the sake of my son as for his children (my four little grandchildren), something that some of them might perchance remember and interpret, when I am gone, as a simple lesson in industry and carefulness. While I was engaged in mowing, a passing neighbor said to me: "I saw you do that forty years ago when working with your uncle, William Morehead, on your father's farm, and you have not yet forgot how!" "No," I replied, "I enjoy it now, and am glad I am able to continue in the business. I want to mow the door-yards for the boys, and help do the hand-mowing, trimming and so forth with the scythe."

June 6.--Came to Meadville on business, and in the evening went to see my uncle and other relatives in Vernon, four miles west of the town, remaining till Monday. During my visit my cousin, R. A. Fergerson, accompanied me to Geneva, and I had the pleasure of calling on an old schoolmate, David Smith, whom I do not remember having met in many years; also saw his brother Peter, another schoohmate, and ere we left Geneva my cousin and I made yet another call on Mr. Harrison, a distant relative whom I have wished to see many years. While at Mr. Fergerson's I paid a visit to his father-in-law, Mr. John Curry, now nearly four-score years old, and very unwell at present; also saw my uncle, living near by, who is in his ninetieth year. On my way home on Monday, and while in Meadville, my cousin, S. Phillips, informed me of the death of his son's wife, which occurred that same morning at her sister's in Hancock, whither she and her husband, Leslie Phillips, had recently gone on account of her failing health. The funeral and services were held at Port Jarvis, N. Y., her former home. It is only a few weeks ago since I saw her, for the last time, at her father-in-law's house, but she was quite ill then, so her demise was not altogether unexpected. She was a most estimable, Christian woman. Our house, the "Old Home," is being repainted white, blinds green, just as it was first painted by my father in 1845; and I wish to help my son and the painter, Mr. Albion Bowman, on that, as I do on everything else about the place, for I do not want to be called a "retired farmer," while health, strength and courage remain to me. It is surely a pardonable pride that prompts me to say that I can still do farm labor, shingle, paint or look for a job at any other kind of work I can do. How good, indeed, it is for us if we can but labor and be contented within the limits of our occupations, making ourselves useful at whatever we can do.

June 11.--I went to-day to assist at the raising of Mr. David Roberts' bank barn (44x52), to me a pleasant duty, and there was a good turn-out; plenty of help--over sixty at dinner (I think), and more to follow to lend a willing hand in the afternoon. Leaving Mr. Roberts' place [I would here say that Mr. Roberts has now one of the best barns in this section of the county; but he is noted for doing things well. There are larger barns, but this seems a model one], I proceeded to Meadville, where I received my mail, and one letter, from my cousin, Frank Simmons, brought me the sad news of the death of Mrs. Martha Cobb, which occurred at 6 o'clock this morning. Another communication was bright and sunshiny--an invitation to a wedding, as follows: "Mrs. C. A. Wheeler requests your presence at the marriage of her daughter, Mertie Maud, to Albert E. Sherman, June 24, 1891, at eight o'clock, at her residence, No. 340 Footes Avenue, Jamestown, N. Y." During my short stay in Meadville I called on Mr. S. Phillips, where I met a relative, Miss Clara Arnold, of Townsville, Penn., who had been residing about six months in East Tennessee, for the benefit of her health, and was on her way home; also had a brief visit at C. R. Slocum's.

June 13.--Am in Jamestown, N. Y., having come to attend the funeral of my cousin, Mrs. Martha Cobb, announced for to-morrow, Sunday, but which, for some reason, took place to-day, before my arrival. Mrs. Cobb was born May 2, 1833, so was just nine days younger than myself. Rev. A. C. Ellis, pastor of the M. E. Church at Jamestown, officiated at the funeral. The electric street railway is now opened in Jamestown, and one can ride to Dexterville or the boat landing in a magnificently-appointed car, propelled by the mystic force of electricity. I understand the road to Lakewood, five miles, will soon be completed, at which time Jamestown will be able to boast of ten or twelve miles of electric railway.

Sunday, June 14.--Attended the Episcopal Church at Jamestown along with Vernon Wheeler and his sister, Gertie; afterward, while on my way to Mr. Simmons', I stepped into the M. E. Church, where were being held "Children's Day" services, which I much enjoyed; then went with Mr. Simmons to look at the new Baptist Church, not yet quite completed, so they are holding services in the Sunday-school, and I found it was also "Children's Day" there. At 3 P. M. I attended the laying of the foundation stone of the Swedish Church; thence went to the cemetery to view the last resting place of Mrs. Martha Cobb and of Uncle and Aunt Simmons, whereon have recently been placed tombstones. A call in the evening on Mr. Hezekiah Williams closed this summer Sabbath day.

June 16.--Left Jamestown yesterday evening for Union City, where I remained over night with my friend J. Housenick, and this morning, being most desirous of attending the raising of Mr. George Hamilton's barn, I took train for Saegertown, whence I walked to the County Farm, one and one-half miles, as I wished to see my brother-in-law and his wife; thence walked to my home, about four and one-half miles, in the heat of the day, changed my clothes, had dinner and was off to the barn-raising. My three sons were all busy at Little Cooley, baling hay, but my daughters-in-law, Maggie and Minnie, had gone to the "bee" before I reached home, so they were helpful to us by assisting Mrs. Hamilton, along with other willing women workers, in getting ready the meals etc. It was an all-day raising, as the barn was 45x96 feet, requiring from forty-five to fifty hands, besides women and children, and so I was late in getting to the spot; but, as some one present remarked, the Waids were "well represented," as there were present my brother, G. N., and his sons, also my nephew, Nick P., besides my daughters-in-law and myself.

Sunday, June 21.--Having come to Meadville yesterday on business, as I usually do on Saturdays, I remained over night at Mr. Derby's, having heard that the Memorial services for Mrs. Estella Phillips would be held to-day in the Baptist Church, and I wished to attend. With several members of the Phillips family I accordingly went to the church, and I am truly glad I did so, as the services were impressive and touching in the extreme. The good pastor, Rev. W. H. Marshall, chose for his text Revelations xiv: 13: And I heard a voice from Heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them; and in his sermon he spoke most feelingly of the deceased; of her exemplary life; of her uniting with the church at Port Jervis, N. Y., and being baptized at the age of about fifteen, over a score of years ago. The bereaved husband has the sympathy of all, but what blessed consolation must come in the thought that his wife, Estella, left the world a Christian, to dwell in the house of the Lord forever--Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord.

In the afternoon I went to "Children's Day" service at the M. E. African Church, where an interesting programme was well carried out, at the close of which I, as a visitor, was called upon to say a few words to the children, which I did, and afterward in a little more substantial manner aided their cause by doubling the collection, making the gross amount $3.14. Then a vote of thanks for my visit, and an invitation to "come again" closed the happy proceedings. In the evening I attended the First M. E. Church, where Rev. Dr. Moore, editor of the Western Christian Advocate, delivered an eloquent sermon for the benefit of the Allegheny College Young Men's Christian Association, the subject being John, the Baptist, in prison, and Christ on His mission on earth, preaching the doctrine of everlasting life.

June 23.--Yesterday my uncle Robert Morehead (now, as already related, nearly ninety years old) and his daughter came to visit me, and glad I was of it, for I was wishing to have him come and see me once more before I take my departure for the West. After supper I drove my uncle to Blooming Valley, in order to make a call on my niece, Mrs. Iowa Joslin, and after a short interview we returned home, having enjoyed a very pleasant drive. This morning we called on our nearest neighbor, Mrs. Mary Kiser, who is a few months older than my uncle, and has been in failing health for a long time. Paid visits to the homes of my other two sons; drove down to the County Farm to give our regards to Julia, a relative; then called on my brother, and afterward on my nephew Nick P., where we had supper before returning homeward, when I drove him to Blooming Valley, whither his daughter had gone to see Mr. Ploof, a relative. Thus ended what to me was a memorable visit, one recalling pleasant old-time associations, not unmixed with regretful remembrances; for as my aged relative and I viewed the old home of my boyhood and earlier manhood, and chatted about the days of long ago, my life history seemed to pass before me like a moving panoramic view, bright and gloomy scenes alternately passing before my mental eye---here a ray of joy, there a cloud of sorrow; here a noontide radiance, there a midnight darkness, till I found my thoughts unconsciously dwelling on my dead wife, and wandering away to the beautiful valley of Eden;

"Beautiful valley of Eden!

Sweet is thy noontide calm;

Over the hearts of the weary,

Breathing thy waves of balm.

"Over the heart of the mourner

Shineth thy golden day,

Wafting the songs of the angels

Down from the far away.

"Beautiful valley of Eden,

Home of the pure and blessed!

How oft' amid the wild billows

I dream of thy rest sweet rest!"

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