MISCELLANEOUS.
MY MOTHER'S OLD LETTERS.
"Backward, turn backward, O Time, in your flight,
Make me a child again, just for tonight! Mother, come back from the
echoless shore, Take me again to your heart as of yore." E. A.
ALLEN.
Among the many things I find near and around me in
this dear old home of my childhood, where I am now writing, that at
every turn remind me of my mother, and invite me into retrospective
study, is a package of old letters written to her by numerous relatives
and friends, some of them dated as far back as the days of her girlhood.
And it seems to me, while I scan these old letters over, as if the
liquid tears that I shed when my dear mother was called to her blessed
reward had come again, but transformed to orient pearl, so precious have
they grown by lapse of time.
My mother was as careful in preserving things as she
was diligent in the acquiring of them. How thoughtful and frugal she
was, for instance, in the gathering, saving and storing of herbs, and
such things, against a time of need! What a supply of them would she
carefully lay away for the sick, either in her own family or among
neighbors! And not alone herbs, but also dried fruits and many other
such necessaries for the sick and infirm, did she with Christian hands
of benevolence distribute among those who were in need of them. How
opportunely and refreshingly they came to them, and how sweet and
comforting it is for me, to-day, to remember her, and her unselfish life
of charitable works, by quietly reviewing these old letters lying before
me, each one of which carries in itself a silent history of the past! I
know that they are in the hands of a son who appreciates them, and can
realize their true value and worth.
My mother, in her lifetime, never ceased to do good
for her children, although they ofttimes failed to understand and set
proper value on her acts; but I have since, day by day, learned to
appreciate the true worth of her love and blessings, and I feel that
this very hour I am reaping some of the fruit of her motherly care and
frugality. Her motto, judging by her daily life, may be said to have
been, simply, "Never forget economy in using what you have."
One of these letters I hold in my hand just now. I
find it was written to her eighty years ago (when she was ten years of
age) by a friend, Ann Perkins, with whom
she had lived some time in her childhood, and is dated "Hartford,
Conn., April 14, 1810." This is the oldest among these letters, is
clearly and plainly written, and bears evidence of having been preserved
with jealous care, as I hope it will be for many years yet to come,
bringing pleasure to all who may peruse it in the future, as it has in
the past.
What I could say, dear reader, about these old letters
would fill many pages of this volume, for they contain much, very much,
that is both instructive and interesting to me and to those yet in life
who knew my mother in days gone by. A friend of mine the other day
remarked to me, in the course of conversation, that we are prone to give
our fathers credit for their acts, but often fail or neglect to
appreciate what our mothers may have done for us. The joint partners of
a good firm have equal recognition and credit in the commercial world,
and surely our parents are deserving of our love, gratitude and
admiration coequally and conjointly. True, our first good impressions
come from our mothers by natural intuition, and as our plastic natures
are, year by year, being molded for use and service in the grand arena
of life, these good impressions are clinched into us, so to speak, by
paternal example. Many such good impressions were stamped on my mind by
my mother in her lifetime, and have been, ever since, through my blessed
memory of her, a remembrance that will remain the theme of my tongue and
pen while life remains to me.
F. C. WAID.
Blooming Valley, Penn.,
January, 1891.
THE SUCCESSFUL FARMER.
Not long since I attended the seventeenth annual State
Dairymen's Association held in Meadville, Penn. To me it was an
excellent opportnnity to see, hear and learn of something on both sides
of the question, Does farming pay? After an experience of over fifty
years spent on the farm, I answer, yes. I began poor, and am in sight of
that station yet, but have had some success in farming, in pursuit of
the occupation I chose when a young man, because I loved it then and do
so yet.
Farming includes dairying--butter and cheese
making--yet that is only one branch of farming. I never followed that
industry to any great extent. I do not remember of having kept more than
three cows at a time; my wife had the name of making good butter, and
whatever we made more than was used at home, found a ready market in our
own neighborhood or in Meadville. My sons excel me in dairying, and have
better cows and more of them. I question whether they were born natural
dairymen; I think they are inclined more to other branches of farming,
as their experience proves. Such is some of my experience in dairying,
and were there no other way of a man becoming a successful farmer except
by dairying, I presume I never would have attempted to write this
article and I will here state my reason for doing so. The farmer has his
choice of what part of his occupatton he wishes to follow. Like the
branches of a tree, there are many, all equally supported by the trunk
and roots, from which they derive their living. Say what you will in
regard to farming. Is there any better occupation, any surer way of
getting a living, a home and a success, than farming? I wonder often why
so many turn aside to other occupations, and leave the farm, the most
important of all pursuits. I would advise any young man, who wants a
home and the comforts and blessings of this life, to stay on the farm. A
degree of success, peace and happiness are found there, as in no other
occupation.
I want to help my brother farmer, and encourage the
young men to stay on the farm, for I consider his chances not only as
good, but in many cases far better than to leave the farm and seek other
occupations. I never learned this by experience, I never wanted to. Of
failure and poor choice we can learn all we wish to know from
observation; and sometimes our sad experience turns us in the right way.
Yet is not that so much time lost, and would we not have done better to
have traveled on the road to success without it?
When I listened to the interesting addresses by noted
men from abroad and at home, and heard farmers discuss the different
questions on the dairy business, my sympathy was with them, and I would
like to help them, and see them prove successful. As I profited by their
experience, perhaps some one may by mine. I will say I was well pleased
when a few of the dairymen reported favorably, and it was evident they
were successful in their business, which proves that farming pays. I was
glad to see those men and bear their words of experience and
encouragement in these (so-called) dull times. It was sunshine coming
forth in its beauty after a long storm of dreary days. Had I been
capable, and had thought it not out of place, I would have spoken some
words of cheer for the farmer who was toiling so faithfully to achieve
success. It might have encouraged them; at least this was my thought,
and although that opportunity is gone, there still remains another; and
if the editor of our good Pennsylvania Farmer thinks it worth while to
publish this article, they may yet have my thoughts and experience.
As I sat there in Library Hall listening to so many
different experiences connected with the dairy interests, I thought it a
good school for the farmer. Who would achieve success, must attend to
business; work, learn and economize. I stood many a day at the ladder,
many a month and year on the platform of poverty, anxious if possible to
rise to moderate circumstances and a comfortable condition in life. If I
never know what it is to be rich, I claim to know what it is to be poor.
Now do not think that because I was in poverty that I was unhappy; that
was not my condition. I was happy, and I can just as easily give a
reason for this as any thing else. I trusted in the Lord and hoped for
success, wishing some day to be as well off as farmers who were then
much better off than I who had nothing financially. But le me tell you
what I did have, a good wife and my health--here was the beginning of
success. Married the day I was twenty-one, April 23, 1854, I rented an
old house and garden for twelve dollars a year, and worked for my father
at fifteen dollars a month on the farm (boarding myself part of the
time). I worked eight months the first year, then taught school in the
winter for about the same wages, and as it was in our own neighborhood I
had my own choice either to board around or at home, and I did both. I
continued working on the farm for my father, and teaching school in the
winter, for four years. Then I began to farm on shares, and later on I
bought fifty acres, where I first rented of my father, the piece of land
being known as the Pember Waid farm (my grandfather's place). This has
been my home ever since.
Let me ask you, who are the successful farmers or
business men of to-day? Some began life with some means, more perhaps
began with very little of this world's goods, and not a few began like
the writer, empty handed. I would like to say a word of encouragement
for all, and that is let us go forth and do the best we can under all
circumstances, knowing that we have some of the burden of life to bear
as well as to show its prosperity. But there is a young man, who like
the forgotten farmer, may at times think his case is so peculiar that he
can not even get a start, in life. I think if you work by this rule you
can get a start, and travel safely toward success and achieve it. Earn
more than you spend. Let your income for the first month exceed your
expenses, and so on to the end of the year, and you will find a surplus
in your favor to begin the next year. When you have solved this hard
problem, which constantly faces us all, you will have attained a degree
of excellence, and will be marching on the road to success.
There are two things that will help you--pay as you
go, and do not go in debt if you can possibly avoid it. In conclusion
permit me to tell you that if you travel in this good way you will like
it best, for many comforts and blessings it will bring you, and crown
your efforts with success.
[Most of this article was written for the Pennsylvania
Farmer of March 26, 1891.]
F. C. WAID.
February 26, 1891.
PARTIAL LIST OF NAMES OF TEACHERS
who taught school in the old school building, in
Blooming Valley, from 1851 to 1890, as far as existing records inform,
some having been lost.
Francis C. Waid, 1851-52
(first teacher), Lavanclla Densmore
(summer).
Ann Eliza Gilmore,
1852-53.
Emmett Densmore, 1858-54.
Mary Ann Lord, Samuel Lord,
Nancy Ann Lord, Pamelia Lord, Mary McCullough, Lavantia Gray, Tabitha
Johnson, Sarah J. Doctor, Sue Keepler, Maria Keepler, Sarah Blair,
Stephen Grubb, James Martin, Asa Cole, Annette Roudebush, Ursula Wykoff,
Nancy McGill (several terms and two or three terms of select
school), Lucinda McGill, Anna McGill, P. M.
Cutshall, Sarah A. Harrown, Ida Roudebush, Amanda Halliday (1863),
Maggie Knorr (1864).
*This list was prepared by Ralph
Roudebush, J. W. Heard and Mrs. Aim Eliza Odeil, who have my best
thanks for their kindness.--F. C. WAID.
The above-named teachers taught in the first
schoolhouse, now known as the "old schoolhouse." but since
used as a dwelling house, and now (1890) being remodeled into one of the
pleasant homes of Blooming Valley, to be occupied by Mrs.
Ohare, daughter of N. Roudebush.
Names of teachers who have taught in the new school
building, Blooming Valley:
1869--Mr. and Mrs. P. M.
Cutshall, Annette Roudebush; 1870--Horace
Mann, Emma McKnight, and a summer school by Horace Mann and William V.
Wheeler; 1871--Horace Mann, Miss Russell;
1872--Von Johnson; 1873--Nancy
Ann Floyd, C. R. Slocum, E. P. Green; 1874--Mr.
and Mrs. J. A. Neyland, Ellen Judd; 1875--Mrs.
J. M. Gehr, Mrs. Mary L. Neyland; 1876--Stanley
Drake, E. J. McCrillis; 1877--Stanley
Drake, E. J. McCrillis, Lydia Frost; 1878--Alta
G. Harris; 1879--Florence M. Harrown, A. G.
Greenlee, E. Ida Frost, Ursula Wykoff; 1880--Mr.
and Mrs. C. R. Slocum; 1881--Mr. and Mrs.
C. R. Slocum; 1882--Ursula Wykoff, L. M.
Morrison; 1883--John F. Humes, Ella
Donnelly (summer, Ella Donnelly);
1884--H. A. Peir, Eva Selew; 1885--D.
W. Humes, Louise Miller; 1886--Mary E.
Hanks, Minnie Luper; 1887--George M.
Bradshaw (17 days), B. W. Hosmer, Silas
Smock; 1888--A. H. Wiard, Silas Smock;
1890--James R. Kern, A. C. Ridout, Minnie Luper;
1891--C. C. Leech, Minnie Luper.
RECORD OF THE LORD AND WAID
FAMILIES.
On the last two leaves of an old account book kept by
my father, Ira C. Waid, and which dates
from March 1, 1830, to 1839, I find a record or memorandum of births,
deaths and marriages in the Samuel Lord and Pember
Waid families:
SAMUEL LORD'S FAMILY.
Born in Lyme, North Quarter, Connecticut.
Samuel, born June 11,
1769. Betsey, born May 16, 1778.
Nicholas, born Feby. 17,
1771. Lydia, born August 31, 1780.
Katharine, born Sept. 6,
1772. Lois, born August 6, 1782.
Solomon, born May 29,
1774. Patty, born November 22, 1784.
Anna, born May 22, 1776. Perliua,
born October 21, 1787.
PEMBER WAID'S FAMILY.
Pember Waid and Anna
Lord were married May 19, 1799, and their children were as
follows:
Erastus S., born May 24,
1800. Phebe Matilda, born Sept. 24, 1811.
Ira C., born Aug. 15,
1801. Clarissa Ursula, born Jan. 26, 1813.
Mary Ann, born Feby. 26,
1803. Henry Augustus, born Jan. 5, 1816.
Martha L. born May 18,
1804. Andrew Gilbert, born May 11, 1818.
Eliza Emeline, born Jan.
18, 1806. Horace Franklin, born July 12,
1820.
Samuel, born June 11,
1808.
George Washington, born
Jan. 21, 1810.
Martha L. Waid and Lathrop
M. Allen were married September 28, 1820; Mary
Ann Waid and Philander Simmons were
married January 18, 1821. Martha L. (Waid) Allen
died June 22, 1833. Anna Waid died February
2, 1844; Pember Waid died February 15,
1852.
Ira C. Waid was married
to Elizabeth P. Morehead June 12, 1825.
Children:
Robert Lyman, born May 1,
1826. Franklin P., born April 23, 1888.
George Nicholas, born
Oct. 27, 1829. Francis C., born April 23,
1888.
RECORD OF FRANCIS C. WAID'S FAMILY.
Francis C. Waid was born
April 23, 1833; Eliza C. Masiker was born
April 13, 1832. They were married April 23, 1854.
CHILDREN.
FRANKLIN I., born January
5, 1855, married March 15, 1877, to Maggie E.
Moore, born May 14, 1859 (their children were as follows: Ida
May, born December 25, 1878, died October, 1881; Ina
Bell, born January 28, 1882; Elma Irena,
born June 14, 1884: Mertie L., born August
16, 1886; Effie Jane, born June 16, 1889).
GUINNIP P., born
September 22, 1859, married March 31, 1883, to Anna
M. Slocum, born November 6, 1862 (they have one child,
Edna Eliza, born December 11, 1886).
FRED F., born March 6,
1868, married March 7, 1889, to Minnie Haines,
born August 5, 1868.
Mrs. Eliza C. (Masiker) Waid
died July 4, 1888, and on July 7, 1889, Francis C.
Waid was united in marriage with Anna E.
Tyler, who was born October 10, 1845.
RECORD OF ANDREW G. WAID'S FAMILY.
Andrew G. Waid was born
May 11, 1818; Jane Decamp was born June 29,
1820. They were married August 27, 1840. Jane
(Decamp) Waid died May 19, 1884, aged 63 years, 10 months, 19
days.
CHILDREN.
Mary Ann, born August 28,
1841. Clinton D., born May 20, 1848. Abraham,
born August 2, 1845. Abigail, born February
4, 1848. Clarrissa, born August 12, 1852. Elnora,
born November 12, 1860.
RECORD OF CYRUS GOODWILL'S FAMILY.
Cyrus Goodwill was born
April 5, 1810; Phebe M. Waid [I was present
at Aunt Phebe Goodwill's eightieth birthday celebration, at which there
were present some thirty persons, including her three sons and two
daughters, four generations of her family being represented. I had both
the honor and pleasure of being seated beside her at the dinner table,
and I was able to observe that, in spite of her patriarchal age, she
enjoyed the celebration with genuine pleasure. The tokens of remembrance
I left, for the occasion, consisted of a picture (family group), a
SOUVENIR and a piece of silver.--F. C. WAID.] was born September 24,
1811. They were married January 8, 1829. Cyrus
Goodwill died May 16, 1855.
CHILDREN.
Lydia M., born December
4, 1829; married February 19, 1846. George A.,
born October 4, 1831; married May 1, 1851. Martha,
born July 27, 1835; married October 4, 1857. Horace
H., born August 18, 1837; married April 10, 1859. Lewis,
born May 1, 1843; died June 3, 1843. Adelaide F.,
born August 30, 1844; died March 17, 1861.
Henrietta A., born January 1, 1849; married May 14, 1865. Albert
F., born October 24, 1854; married October 5, 1875.
FAMILY RECORD OF ELEAZER AND LOIS
C. SLOCUM.
My second son, Guinnip P.,
being married to Annie, daughter of Lewis
M. Slocum and granddaughter of Eleazer
Slocum, and the entire Slocum family having been lifelong
acquaintances of mine, I take pleasure in here giving the record of
their births and deaths:
Eleazer Slocum, born
April 17, 1812, died February 3, 1867.
Lois C. Slocum, born July
5, 1813, died May 1, 1863.
CHILDREN
C. R., born December 10,
1834.
Robert E., born November
16, 1836.
Lewis M., born January 4,
1839.
Caroline M., born
February 18, 1842.
Salvador, born November
15, 1844.
James E., born April 22,
1847.
Ira C., born July 25,
1849, died November 27, 1851.
Calvin Rood, born April
23, 1853, died June, 1871.
Edward Everett, born
August 13, 1855, died November 11, 1867.
THE WAID TWIN MONUMENTS
IN BLOOMING VALLEY CEMETERY
The one was erected August 13, 1884, the other bearing
the date November 30, 1888, although it was not placed in position,
owing to delay in shipment, until December 11, following. The chief
object of this monument being to perpetuate the memory of my beloved
wife, Eliza, it was a happy coincidence
that it should be erected on the birthday of our little two-year-old
granddaughter, who was named after her--Edna Eliza
Waid--only daughter of Guinnip and Anna
Waid. On this monument are the following inscriptions:
(On West Side.)
In memory of
ELIZA,
His beloved wife;
FRANKLIN,
His twin brother;
Parents and Kindred;
These twin monuments are dedicated by
FRANCIS C. WAID,
November 30, 1888.
(On South Side.)
FRANCIS C. WAID, Born
April 23, 1833,
ELIZA,
His wife,
Born April 13, 1832, died July 4, 1888.
(On East Side.)
RECORD OF KINDRED.
Pember Waid had seven
sons and five daughters.
Ira C., son of Pember
Waid, had four sons, namely.
Robert L., who had three
sons.
George N., who had six
sons and four daughters.
Francis C., who has three
sons.
Twins Franklin P.
Francis C. Waid's three
sons are Franklin I., who has four
daughters, Guinnip P., who has one
daughter, Fred F.
Record of Jacob Masiker's
Family.
Six sons and two daughters.
Jane, wife of G.
W. Cutshall.
Eliza, wife of F.
C. Waid.
TEMPERANCE FERGERSON,
Born December 20, 1790, died March 11, 1869.
(On North Side.)
"Have Faith in God."
Commit thy ways unto the Lord; trust also in Him and
He shall bring it to pass.
Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth.
Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness,
and all these things shall be added unto you.
Oh, that my words were now written; Oh, that they were
printed in a book, that they were graven with an iron pen and lead in
the rock for ever. For I know that my Redeemer liveth.
Jesus saith, because I live she shall live also.
Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be
saved.
The Waid lot in Blooming Valley Cemetery is cast of
the center of what was known as the first purchase (or old lot), located
on the north side of the driveway. Adjoining this lot, both to the east
and to the west of it, are interred near relatives. East of my twin
brother's grave is that of my uncle, William
Morehead. The lots of Washington Waid and
William Morehead bound our lot on the cast,
and the lots of Cyrus Goodwill and George
Roudebush on the west.
Elsewhere I give the record of others interred in this
cemetery, not already mentioned in my 1886 SOUVENIR.
IN MEMORIAM.
"The
path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads
to the land where sorrow is unknown."
--Cowper.
FRANCIS C. WAID, the
author of the Souvenirs, is no more. Suddenly, "in the twinkling of
an eye," while in his fifty-ninth year, he was called to his long
home, and the busy hand that penned the thoughts of his active mind is
forever at rest. He died as he had lived--energetic and industrious in
all his undertakings--his characteristic activity continuing until his
last breath.
When sixteen years of age he commenced to keep a
record of the events of his life, in the form of a diary, and this he
zealously carried on till almost the last moment of his life, the amount
of his writing being remarkable for one who of necessity was at all
times busy with many other things. His Souvenirs are simply gleanings
from his records, and present but a mere modicum of the bulk of his
literary labors.
In 1886 he began the publication of these "notes
by the wayside," under the title of "Souvenir;" in 1890
he issued his second Souvenir, and in 1892 his "Third" and
"Twin" Souvenirs, each combining family history with the
biography of his own life, essays, treatises and other kindred subjects,
all replete with apt allusions and gems of the loftiest thought.
In perusing Mr. Waid's book, the reader can not but be
interested in his peculiar attention to detail; his incessant care to
have truths recorded in intelligible simplicity; his modesty of
expression, in every sentence disclosing his humanity and an unvarying
consideration for his fellow creatures. He was not loth to court
criticism, and never turned a deaf ear to the counsels of friends. For
rhetorical embellishment he cared little, and to any of the graces of
what might be termed fine writing he made no pretentious; he thought
more of the matter than of the manner, and yet his writings abound in
the most salutary, practical lessons, applicable to men of every
profession, and of every grade or condition of life. Of all the passions
that agitate the human mind, there is, perhaps, no one more grateful in
itself, or more useful to man, than sympathy; and in contemplating its
benign influence, Mr. Waid perceived both the propriety and the
excellency of the divine aphorism: "It is more blessed to give than
to receive.'' His Souvenirs, which he published at a very considerable
outlay, he distributed far and wide, "without money and without
price."
Mr. Waid's death occurred about eight o' clock on the
morning of February 20, 1892, while he was occupied in a kneeling
position in preparing a package of his last Souvenirs, which he intended
to convey to Meadville. He was confronted with the Grim Reaper at the
old homestead of his father, Ira C. Waid,
and in the very room in which his twin brother, Franklin
P., had died nearly thirty-eight years before. No languishing or
painful sickness prostrated him, but while he was yet busy in the
beneficent work of his later life, Death summoned him without a moment's
warning, and his soul fled from its earthly companion which now, in the
beautiful Blooming Valley Cemetery, peacefully awaits the Resurrection
Morn.
The memory of his dearly beloved wife, Eliza,
the mother of his three sons, always remained with him, and materially
influenced the bent of his later life, as is evidenced in his writings.
She was dear to all, and especially so to him who with her shared
equally the joys and sorrows of life for so many years. She was an
extreme sufferer for a long time prior to her death, but fully believing
God's precious promises, she endured her afflictions as "seeing Him
who is invisible.'' When on July 4, 1888, she passed from things
temporal to things eternal, on the most faithful and loving of wives,
the most devoted of mothers, a true Christian woman, kind-hearted, noble
and amiable, fell the mantle of a blessed immortality.
The heart of Mr. Waid was highly sensitive to the
religious impressions which were inculcated upon his mind from infancy
by God-fearing parents, and in early life he became a follower of the
lowly Nazarene. In later years he gave largely of his means for
Christian and charitable purposes, and he will ever be remembered by
those whom he aided in dark and desolate days. As a farmer he was
successfill, always closely adhering to the paths of industry and
frugality. As a man he was quiet and unobtrusive, and few had more warm
friends than he.
Francis C. Waid is not
dead. The tenement of clay in which the real man lived has returned to
dust, and his spirit has gone to its Giver, but his influence still
remains. The good seed he sowed with so liberal a hand is yet
developing, and has become a "harvest that grows the more with
reaping.'' His Souvenirs remain, enduring monuments to his unceasing,
unselfish, patient labors in the noble work of doing good.
Chicago, Ill., 1892. G.A.B.
