With such good thoughts I went to
work on the farm this morning, commencing by removing a rail fence, the
last piece on the south side of State Road adjoining the garden which is
surrounded with a picket fence. The removing of fences from along
roadways, where not essentially needed, is, I hold, good economy,
proving in the end a saving of labor to the farmer, while, at the same
time, it enhances the appearance of the farm. I do not advocate the
removal of all farm fences, but simply the retaining of only those that
are really necessary. The average farmer has burdens enough that are
real without having unnecessary ones which should be speedily dismissed
or done away with. A good man will guide his affairs with discretion.
The superfluous fences being now removed from our farm, it is decidedly
improved both in appearance and in matters of convenience. So I think,
at least, as I look out on the new sight this fine morning. Any change
from a burdensome condition to one of freedom is cheerful. These fences
had their day, they were once necessary, and were kept up over fifty
years; now they are no longer required, and their removal becomes a
pleasant duty and a benefit to us [Our farm is over a mile long from
north to south, and had many division fences, making so many separate
lots; now only the pasture hind is fenced]. A farmer in his experience
in learning to save and drop useless expenses, gets wisdom; and those
who may lack that commodity, which Solomon so forcibly advises us all to
search after, have only to go to the Bible to find out how to proceed to
get possession of it: If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God,
that giveth to all men liberally. There is abundance in God's storehouse
for all who will seek after it in faith, nothing wavering [The Bible is
the best book on farming I ever read; you, who do not think so, please
study it, especially the Book of Proverbs].
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.
Go
to the next page
