|
|
Excerpts from Souvenir Submitted by David M. Waid |
||
|
1887 June 2, 1887--Having been appointed pathmaster (or road
commissioner) several times, my experience in making and repairing has
been considerable, and many remarks--good, bad and indifferent--have I
heard made by passers-by, when commenting on our work.
We have quite a large amount of "work tax" several days
in each year, necessitating the employment of hands, teams and tools, in
paying our road tax in Woodcock and Mead Townships, which varies from $35
to $40 in labor, and about $15 in cash.
By reference to my receipts I find my heaviest tax, hitherto, was
paid last year (1886) in Woodcock Township--a little over $151, including
State, county, poor and school taxes.
Our taxes all told for that year were about $260 (In 1889 about
$800 by reference to my receipts. One
receipt in Woodcock Township is for $191.56.--F. C.
Waid); so the farmer, it will be seen, has to pay some taxes as
well as inhabitants of villages, towns or cities. I do not wish it thought that I am complaining about our
taxes; far from it. I am only
glad that after toiling so long I have something to be taxed for; I was
really troubled when I had nothing to be assessed on, and even then I was
glad that my wife owned a cow! But to return to what I was saying about comments passed by wayfarers on our road-making. I will be excused, I know, from here repeating what may have been said uncomplimentary, and will only relate one instance of the many favorable criticisms. A certain gentleman, a farmer, living near Meadville, who had just passed over the portion of State road we had finished working on, expressed himself in this wise: "I have been acquainted," says he, "with this road over fifty years, and I will say that I never have seen it in as good condition, or looking as well as it does now, taking it from the Goodrich Farm to the borough of Blooming Valley." [Distance about one and a half miles.] He then appealed to me with the inquiry if I had ever seen it as good as it is now? "Do not ask me," I replied, "to judge of our own work; I admit, however, that we have done what we could to merit your compliment, for which I thank yon."
June 4, 1887--Received a letter from my friend, Rev.
A. S. Goodrich, who with his family, consisting of wife and only
daughter, spent the winter in Florida; at present they are residing in
Corry, Erie Co., Penn. In
this interesting letter he gives a description of St. Augustine, Fla., the
oldest city in the United States, founded by Menendez de Aviles, September
8, 1565. In conclusion he
speaks of his own and family's health having been improved by their
Southern trip. He also
acknowledges receipt of Historical Sketch Book, on his return from
Florida.
June 12--This was "Children's Day," at the State Road
Methodist Episcopal Sunday-school. The
attendance was good, and the exercises passed off in a most creditable
manner to all who participated in them, and the presence of our pastor
added much to the occasion. One
of the noted features was what was called the "blank class,"
which is the second Bible class, including all who come in and do not
belong to some classes in the school, and is composed of grown persons.
When the superintendent called this class at the close of the other
exercises, I said I would represent the "blank class," as when
our pastor is not present I have the honor of being its teacher.
After making a few brief remarks, I requested to have the pleasure
of doubling the collection which had been taken up for the Educational
Fund, and which amounted to $5.02, thus making it $10.04. So ended "Children's Day" at State Road Church.
My family's friend, Henry Smith, with
his family, living near Meadville, accepted our invitation to dine with
us, and in the afternoon we all attended "Children's Day"
meeting at Blooming Valley, where a large audience was assembled.
Here also I had the gratification of increasing the educational
fund, but the collection was not so large as at State Road.
Possibly the reader may ask: "Why
speak of these collections and additions thereto, and why publish such in
a book? Such little things
are of frequent occurrence." That
is very true, kind reader, but you know the rain-drops count. Every blade of grass has its own drop of dew.
The moments and hours of life all tell in making up a year in one's
life. Some of us, if small
things in our favor were to be omitted, when weighed in the balance, would
be found wanting. Shakespeare
says: "Small showers
last long, but sudden storms are short."
He who teaches us that not a sparrow falls to the ground without
the notice of our Heavenly Father, declares the very hairs of our head are
numbered. He who is
constantly trying to do good will succeed in his efforts, and will find
that favor and blessing are sure to follow.
Then the problem of how to enjoy a dollar twice is not hard to
solve. To me there comes a
pleasure in earning a dollar, but the greater pleasure comes in a proper
use of it. Where better, I
ask, and where with better security and guaranteed profits can a man place
a portion of his earnings than in the Lord's treasury, cheerfully?
My own reply to the query is to be found in my own experiences.
June 16, 1887--At the home of Mr. and Mrs.
Daniel H. Miller, our near neighbors, were gathered this day a
pleasant party, consisting entirely of their children and relatives,
excepting myself and my wife, who were present by request.
The event was the celebration of the sixieth birthday of Mrs.
Sarah Miller, and as on such occasions it is customary for visitors
to leave as a memento some gift, in this instance presents were given
valued at about $7, and also $11 in cash.
On same day, in Randolph Township, Crawford County, was celebrated
at the residence of her son, John McLachlin,
the ninetieth anniversary of Mrs. McLachlin's birthday.
A venerable old age and a useful past life were in her represented,
which a wave of good is certain to follow.
June 22, 1887--As my son Fred and I
had just finished grinding our scythes before mowing the grass by the
roadside (for we like to have clean fence rows as well as good roads), our
friend, Henry Smith, and his family,
accompanied by an elderly gentleman, drove up to us.
This stranger, who was introduced to us as Mr.
Harmon, from Lake Ridge, Lenawee County, Mich., spent the day with
us in visiting, ourselves learning from him something of our relatives
living in Michigan. Mr.
Harmon's eldest son, James, married Anna
Waid, my uncle Samuel Waid's youngest
daughter. Samuel
Waid moved to Michigan in the
spring of 1858, and if my memory serves me right, he had a family of four
sons and six daughters, of whom Sarah Jane,
the eldest daughter, died at Meadville, and was interred in Blooming
Valley Cemetery before they left Pennsylvania.
One son, William, the eldest in the
family, became a soldier in the Union army in the Civil War, and died in
Andersonville Prison.
John, the next younger son, who
was also in the army, was taken prisoner, I understand, and has never been
heard of since. The surviving
children are sons--Nathan and Harmon--and
daughters--Clara, Lovina and Anna, the two
first named being married to brothers by the name of Reeves.
During the day I drove Mr. Harmon to Blooming Valley and the
cemetery. He is in his
seventy-eighth year, a native of Phelps, Ontario County, N. Y., but moved
to Michigan in 1834. I always
take pleasure in the society of men who may be a quarter of a century in
advance of myself, for I yet love the council of the aged, and find wisdom
in their experience.
June 27, 1887--To-day we have been mowing the 100-acre lot;
somewhat earlier than usual for haying in our section.
This meadow, which lies on the north side of State Road, is of
historic fame, for an account of it is given in my biographical sketch, at
page 1175, "History of Crawford County," published in 1885, as
well as in my SOUVENIR issued from the press in 1886, at page 35.
We had working to-day three mowing machines driven by my three
sons, Franklin I., Guinnip P. and Fred F.,
myself being engaged in trimming fence rows, etc., part of the day.
Several years ago Mr. Townley asked me
how we managed to do our large haying with so much dispatch, generally
finishing in July, as he understood.
I replied that we usually had two machines running part of the day
(in the forenoon), and sometimes had three, though not often.
I do not think as many acres have ever been cut on the farm in a
single day as there were mown this day.
Twenty-five or thirty acres cut in one day is considerable for us
in June, even with fine weather, though rather cool.
It is a pleasure to see the grass fall as the guards and knife come
in contact with it. But the
more responsible labor is not in the mowing but in the raking, pitching,
loading and hauling to the barns, and there unloading.
But making hay or working in the hayfield is a pleasant task for
anyone who loves it, and I still like to take my place in the harvest
field.
My youngest son, Fred F., in the
spring of 1885, planted a beautiful maple tree of good size on the rise of
ground near the hay-barn, at the north end of the 100-acre meadow, and it
is growing finely.
July 1, 1887--Have had beautiful haying weather since last Monday,
in fact, all that could be desired. This
afternoon came a slight sprinkling of rain, not sufficient to stop work in
the field. At this writing
there have been cut of the 100-acre meadow, seventy-five or eighty acres,
all stored in barns. One
family, with some outside help and good machinery, can do a considerable
amount of haying in five days, when favored with fair weather.
Three mowers, two horse-rakes and four wagons, all well manned, can
make work progress in a lively manner as was the case on this big field. On the south side of State Road we have another field of
about sixty acres, nearly all meadow, and yet another, of twenty acres,
all meadow; and these fields comprise all the meadowland on the farm.
This last mentioned field, thirty years ago, was all woodland; now
it is a fine, productive meadow. It
slopes toward the north, and adjoins the public road which bounds Blooming
Valley on the west. [This season our haying was completed on July 20th, the
earliest of any year as far as I can remember; last year I think I
finished July 21st, and then helped my boys a few days to finish their
haying.]
"Independence Day," 1887--The "Glorious Fourth"
was, as usual, full of interest and pleasure to me, not altogether
disconnected, I confess, with some business affairs; for, as I have
already remarked, I can most agreeably combine business with pleasure, or
vice versa. Having taken the
morning train for Jamestown, N. Y., my youngest son and I there found my
cousin, F. Simmons, in his store, busily
engaged, with Mr. Prosser, waiting on
customers. At Mr. Simmons'
suggestion, after dinner, we took passage by one of the large steamers for
one of the most noted resorts in America, Chautauqua, where was being held
the Fourteenth Assembly. At
the Hotel Athenaeum we met and shook hands with Hon.
H. G. Horr, of Michigan, and had the pleasure of hearing him
deliver an interesting and instructive address on "Independence
Day." While the
population of Jamestown is estimated at about 16,000, it is said of
Chautauqua that, during the Assembly, it is a "grove city" of
some 10,000. It is one of
Nature's lovely spots, made more attractive by the art of man, and never
before have I seen town and forest so completely mixed; it may be truly
designated rus in urbe. The
chiming of the bells in the town attract the attention of strangers, and,
as the mellow notes of some sweet melody pour from their metal throats,
one is reminded of the rhythmical lines of Moore: Those evening bells!
those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells Of youth, and home, and that sweet
time When last I heard their soothing
chime. Those joyous hours are passed away; And many a heart that then was gay Within the tomb now darkly dwells, And hears no more those evening bells. And so 'twill be when I am gone, That tuneful peal will still ring on; While other bards shall walk these
dells, and sing your praise, sweet evening bells."
Returning to Jamestown we were favored with the company of Hon.
H. G. Horr and Rev. T. L. Flood, editor of the Chautauquan, and
other distinguished persons. Years
ago, when visiting relatives at Jamestown, I heard Mr. Flood preach at the
Methodist Episcopal Church, since when I have listened to him occasionally
with much pleasure and satisfaction, and was one of the multitude in
Meadville, who listened with profit to his delightful memorial address on
Gen. Grant. The Chautauquan
finds a welcome at our home, as I am one of its 60,000 subscribers.
|
|
||
