Third Souvenir Main Page

Excerpts from Francis 

C. Waid's Third Souvenir

Submitted by David M. Waid 

From Oalesburg we journeyed on westward to Brookfield, Mo., where we arrived early in the morning of October 30. Mrs. C. H. Jones and her daughter met us at the station and escorted us to their comfortable home, half a mile distant, Mrs. Jones carrying a lantern, although the moon was brightly shining and the diamond-like stars were twinkling high in the heavens. Mrs. Jones is a widow, her husband having died three years ago, leaving her with one son, Charles (now twenty-two years old, unmarried, cashier of a bank at Mendon, twenty-four miles from Brookfield), and two daughters, Nellie and Ada, both at home. Mrs. Jones owns a farm some twenty miles from Brookfield. I had been suffering for some days with a sore foot, which pained me much in walking, and as a consequence I was quite used up by the time we reached Brookfield, but a good rest fully recuperated me. This is a live, growing town of 5,000 inhabitants, famed among other attractions for its excellent college. We were present at a well-attended entertainment given in the Y. M. C. A. rooms by the Ladies of Temperance in aid of the cause, and here Mr. Carter and family, with whom we went, introduced me to many prominent people. Dr. Brown, president of Brookfield College, Prof. F. M. Bradshaw and several others assisted in carrying out the program. Before our leaving Brookfield, Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Benson, of Laclede, Mo., and Mrs. Jones' son came to add to the enjoyment of our visit, which I will always remember with a great degree of pleasure.

Early in the morning of November 1, we bade farewell to our kind friends at Brookfield, and took train for Ottawa, Kas. On our journey we had a "stop over" of a few minutes at Kansas City, long enough to again shake hands with John Cavinee, of whom I have already made mention, and about noon of the same day we arrived at Ottawa, where we were met by Rouelle and A. W. Tyler with a team, and Anna and her parents went direct home with them, leaving me to follow later in the day, as I had some business to transact at my banker's. I found a large mail awaiting me, a budget in all of thirty letters, chiefly from friends acknowledging receipt of SECOND SOUVENIR sent them; and I was glad I did not have these letters to read and answer while visiting, as it might have proven "too much of a good thing" all at one time. I can enjoy life better when its "sweets and bitters" are, so to speak, spread over equally or evenly, not coming in a lump. Mundane pleasures much resemble the uncertain glory of an April day, and they are the sweeter to us when they arrive in small parcels, for "small showers last long, but sudden storms are short."

On Sunday, November 2, I attended, in the morning, the M. E. Church at Valley Chapel, and felt myself much benefited spiritually by the discourse delivered by the worthy pastor, whose text was from Matthew xxvii: 22: What shall I do then with Jesus which is called Christ? I was thankful to have the privilege of hearing this excellent sermon, for it brought rejoicing to my heart in reflecting that I had sought and accepted Christ in my youth. I thought, as I listened, of His preciousness to me, and I thanked, and continue to thank, His holy name for His great mercies vouchsafed day by day to me. In the evening I took part in the meeting of the Young People's Endeavor Society, held in Christian Church, Norwood. I love the good developed in all Christian societies, and I am thankful, I again repeat, for this day's privileges, as during the past month I had not opportunities of enjoying them as often as I wished.

The day for State elections being close at hand, and political meetings being the "order of the day," on the evening of November 3, Rouelle P. Tyler, Mr. Patterson, John Slaven and myself drove to Ottawa, in order to attend a Democratic meeting. Charles E. Robinson [When I was at Lawrence, Kas., I was in sight of Mr. Robinson's home, looking at it wistfully and wishing to visit him, but for want of time was unable], ex-governor of the State of Kansas, a man of about seventy years of age, spoke with much force, his arguments on all the points at issue being very clear and instructive. His remarks on temperance especially pleased me, for they were sensible, impressive and to the point, plainly indicating that he was something more than a politician; in fact he did not leave the impression that he was not a Christian. I was led to love the man for his human sympathies, and felt toward him as I do toward all good men, whose aim in life is to better the condition of the rest of mankind. There were some other addresses made, and the large audience did not disperse till a late hour, it being midnight when my friends and I reached home.

On the following day the elections took place, and my brother-in-law, A. W. Tyler, drove me to Centropolis, a town about six miles west of Norwood, whither he was going to cast his ballot. Freeman Tyler and Rouelle P. voted in Norwood; I myself had no vote here in Kansas, but I could look on and wish myself just long enough in Woodcock Township, Crawford County, Penn., to cast my vote for the man of my choice as governor of Pennsylvania, and otherwise support the Republican ticket; but being, as I am, many hundred miles away I can only console myself with the thought (and here "the wish is father to the thought") that when I hear from home I will learn that all for whom I would have voted were elected, and that my ballot would simply have added a unit to the Republican majority.

I had never been in Centropolis before, so in this little trip I enjoyed a double advantage. There are three churches in the place, which is a fair index to its population, and it stands in the midst of fine farm land. As we drove along the road between there and Norwood we had a good view of the surrounding country, and were able to see as far as Baldwin City, in Douglas County. Minneola school-house, near Centropolis, was at one time, so I am informed, the State Capitol.

On our return home I received a letter from Mrs. A. Bryant, of Amherst, Lorain Co., Ohio (formerly Miss Adelaide Wykoff), at one time one of my scholars at the old Cowen school-house, near Blooming Valley, Penn.

The reading of this letter caused me much pleasure, recalling as it did thoughts of those I love so dearly--father, mother, and my dead wife, whose memory I ever cherish. We are all now busy husking corn, and expect to be finished by the early part of next week. Mr. Tyler has this year about fifty acres of corn and twenty-five haystacks--twelve in one group--besides which he raised oats, flax, potatoes and other farm products. It would open the eyes of any eastern farmer who has never been in this western country to see the vast fields of corn and cribs filled to overflowing, besides great quantities piled up on the ground. Mr. Tyler's potato having been grown over with a thick mantle of grass and weeds, it was thought advisable to set fire to it in order to facilitate the gathering in of the potatoes; so toward evening, there having been a light sprinkle of rain, sufficient to considerably reduce the risk of adjoining crops catching fire, we set ablaze the grass and weeds which soon disappeared from the field. A few days afterward, we set to work to gather in the potato crop, which was done by plowing them out first; then, after picking all the potatoes that may have been turned up, the harrow was brought into use three or four times, the crop being gathered up after each course of harrowing; and I believe that is the speediest way. Four of us (Freeman and Rouelle Tyler, John Slaven and myself), with one team, gathered in during nearly a whole day only thirty bushels, hard work at that, as the crop was light; but the market price was high--$1.00 @ $1.25 per bushel.

Well, this labor in the potato field and husking corn have helped to harden our hands, and it is said "there is no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand." I enjoy work and sunshine, for they bring with them cheer into our lives. Within the issues of labor is the fountain of good, which ever bubbles up a clear current of contentment as refreshing to the wearied son of toil as the cooling stream is to the panting hart when heated in the chase. One day I timed myself in husking corn, and found I could husk one hundred ears in eight minutes, a little better than twelve ears in one minute; but this was a variety of corn easier to work than another kind we had been husking, and of it Rouelle Tyler, John Slaven and myself husked about three wagon-loads, or nearly a third more than we usually got through with in the same length of time with the other variety.

On November 15, I received a copy of the Meadville Republican, which contained the sad notice of the death of two of my aged friends, at one time neighbors of ours; I allude to Mrs. Catharine Boyles, who died at Blooming Valley November 9, 1890, aged eighty-six years, and Rev. E. P. Pengra, who died in Mead Township, near Meadville, November 11, 1890, aged eighty years. I had known Mrs. Boyles from my boyhood, as Charles Boyles' farm was only a mile south of our home, and the last time I saw her was shortly before leaving home on my present trip. Mr. Pengra I had known for over thirty years, and his kindness and Christian advice I always appreciated; his memory with me is blessed, as I knew him, not only as a minister of the Gospel but also as a friend and neighbor, for he lived many years on his farm just west of us, and near the State Road M. E. Church. It is no wonder I loved him, for it was during a revival meeting in 1859, under his care, that my first wife experienced religion. When at home last summer, I paid Mr. and Mrs. Pengra a visit, and while there Mr. E. C. Hall, pastor of the First M. E. Church of Meadville, called in. Mr. Pengra was at the time in very poor health, and at the close of our visit Brother Hall led us in prayer, followed by our dear Brother Pengra, whom I had so often heard pray. That was the last prayer I ever heard Brother Pengra offer.

November 18 was a beautiful fall day, a fine one for husking corn, which we are now nearly through with. To me the 18th of November is a "red-letter day" in my life, for it was on that date, in 1880, I first met Miss Anna E. Tyler, who is now my wife.

On November 19 we had still sixty-four rows of corn to husk, and at about I o'clock I had the honor of husking the last ear of this year's crop on the Freeman Tyler Farm. The two large corn-cribs standing on the hill are heaped with corn so high that they present a grand appearance to the passer-by, containing as they do, between 3,000 and 4,000 bushels. So our labor on Freeman Tyler's farm is about ended, and our work, on reviewing it, has been satisfactory and profitable. We are thankful to the Giver of all good for His abundant mercies, for the honest labor He sends us that brings to us the calm rest of which the poet sings: "How sweet the rest of laboring man."

My next husking was in assisting my brother-in-law, Albert Tyler, to get in his crop of corn, which also brought me much pleasure, for I went to the work with a cheerful will. Quail and rabbits are numerous in the fields, and one day I saw John Slaven (who had also come along to assist Albert Tyler), kill a quail with an ear of corn which he threw at it, and at another time I observed him knock over a rabbit with a similar missile.

On Saturday, November 22, I went to Ottawa on business, and remaining there over Sunday I attended some of the religious exercises held at the M. E. Church. I was in hopes to hear Rev. E. C. Boaz preach, but was disappointed as he was absent in the country; his place, however, was ably and eloquently filled by Prof. Charles Quail, president of Baldwin University. His text was in three parts or divisions, with a view to collation, the subject of the first part being "John;" the subject of the second, "Christ;" the subject of the third, "Satan." The words were: In those days came John preaching in the wilderness; then (2) Christ came to be baptized of him, suffer it to be so now, for it becometh us to fulfill all righteousness; and (3) in our Lord's temptation, Satan's words: If thou be the Son of God, cast thyself down. Here were three individuals, of whom Christ and John, both good, met, and Christ and Satan, one good, the other evil, this last meeting illustrating the incontrovertible fact that wherever good is, not far off will evil be found.

"O what may man within him hide,

Though angel on the outward side!"

I wish space would permit of my speaking more fully of what is known as individuality, as portrayed by Prof. Quail--that is, the character of any one individual as compared with that of another; as, for instance, the contrast between such men as Martin Luther and Napoleon Buonaparte; the professor leading up his argument until touching on the distinctive characters of the three individuals spoken of in the text--John, Christ, Satan: How nobly grand that of John; how magnificently sublime that of Christ; how contemptibly mean and diabolically malevolent that of Satan, with his sneering, cynical "if!"

In the afternoon I attended the Y. M. C. A. meeting, the subject of the day being "Putting away sin," as set forth in Proverbs xxviii: 13: He that covereth his sins shall not prosper; but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy, and "Man's part, God's part," [Isaiah xliii: 8 to 13.] In the early part of the evening I attended the young people's meeting, which was also addressed by Prof. Quail, the subject for the day being "Cross," and afterward I went to the Baptist Church, where I met at the door one of the ushers in the person of my old friend Harry Brown, the first time I had seen him during my present visit to the West. He kindly showed me a seat "well in front," where I was able to hear, without any effort, a most interesting discourse from the lips of Elder Wood, his subject being chosen from the first Psalm, wherein David sings of the happiness of the godly and the unhappiness of the ungodly. The subject is so full of instruction and interest, and I so love this beautiful Psalm that I may plead no excuse for giving it a place in my Souvenir.

Blessed is the man that walketh not in the council of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.

2. But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in His law doth he meditate day and night.

3. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.

4. The ungodly are not so; but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away.

5. Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.

6. For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous, but the way of the ungodly shall perish.

I could not wish this remarkably good day to close better than it did, filled as it was with privileges and religious instruction; and I am glad I came to Ottawa to spend this Lord's-Day, for it has been to me a feast of good things, and I leave for home refreshed and better fitted for life's duties and cares. How true it is that labor in the Lord's vineyard not only raises the feeble up, but supports him afterward!

Thursday, November 27, is "Thanksgiving Day," and it is as fair a day as one could desire. All nature seems to be shouting paeans of thankfulness to the all-wise and benevolent Creator, and hymns of praise ascend to Heaven from every plain, every mountain and every valley: Let them praise the name of the Lord; for He commanded, and they were created; let every thing that hath breath praise the Lord. I am thankful for all the favors of life, and I ponder over the many blessings our Heavenly Father has poured on me. Hearing that Thanksgiving services were to be held in the M. E. Church, Ottawa, I proceeded thither, and had the pleasure of listening to an eloquent discourse delivered by Rev. Morrell, an Episcopal clergyman, who chose for his text Psalm xix: 1: The Heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth His handywork. Mr. Morrell spoke of God's goodness, and as to how we should pray and render thanks, For His mercy endureth forever. In the evening I attended another meeting held in the same church, and on the following day called on Rev. E. C. Boaz, whom I had not yet met during this my fifth trip to Kansas. Afterward I paid a short visit to W. H. Sherman, who formerly lived at Shermansville, Crawford Co., Penn., and who, till recently, held some county office here, with residence in Ottawa. Last summer he and his wife had been East on a trip, going as far as Boston, Mass. On their return they stopped over at Meadville, Penn., revisiting, after an absence of seventeen years, their old home in Shermansville.

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