Mr. Fisher has covered the history of Cabot churches up to the close of the first hundred years of Cabot history.  Since that time, there has been but one organized, and that one (Seventh Day Advent) never was completed and the society soon became non existent.

  Lower Cabot seemed to have been the special target for the interests of the Advents.  Most of those now living in Cabot have known the location of these buildings, but since they will be but a tradition to the next generation, I will give some description of them.

  I will first make mention of the two branches of the Advent denomination that had their location in Lower Cabot.  According to the record given by Mr. Fisher, the First Day Advent Christian Church was built in 1857 and dedicated in 1858.  I have heard it said that the society borrowed the plans that were used for the Methodist church.  At any rate, it was very similar in size and construction.

  Mr. Fisher also remarks that at the time of his writing, 1881, the interest in the church was on the wane, and that preaching was being held more or less irregularly.  That is just as I remember it.  I recall two occasions of attending there in the early eighties.  As a boy of seven or eight, I was walking home after attending services and Sunday school at the Methodist church.  As I reached here about one or one thirty, services were just beginning and, out of curiosity probably rather than feeling the need of additional services, I went in and took a seat well to the front.  There was hung across the front end wall of the church a large diagram in vertical sections portraying their conception of the various ages of prophecy, beginning with Genesis and reaching through the Bible to Revelation and probably on down to the present time.  The preacher was a woman, who appeared to be very sure of herself, and with a wooden pointer in hand, began at the left and moving toward the right, brought things to a climax with doom and destruction just about to break upon the earth.

  At another time, stopping under similar circumstances, there was a temperance sermon with a picture of a great snake as the most impressive part of the illustration.

  I have heard the late Miss Fannie McDuffee, whom a few of us who remain, remember as quite a character of wit and humor living in Cabot village, but who, as a girl, lived at Lower Cabot, relate the following.  The Advent church had been favored with the preaching of a man from Boston, headquarters of that denomination, a man they liked very much by the name Faucett.  It seems they asked for a man to be sent to them with the request that, if possible, they send Reverend Mr. Faucett.  Instead another man was sent who did not meet with their approval.  Miss McDuffee said, "The Advents sent to Boston to get a Faucett but they were all out of faucets and so they sent them a plug."

  In later years, quite often during the summer the pastors of the churches at Cabot village, at the invitation of the people of the community, practically all of whom were members and attendants at the Methodist and Congregational churches, would come for a late afternoon community service and the church would be well filled.  This became quite an established custom for Old Home Week.  The writer recalls preaching there on two such occasions.  Also at Christmas time and other special occasions, the Lower Cabot school was permitted to use the buildings.  With the passing of the years, the roof began to leak and some effort was made in the community to obtain funds for repairs, but it did not materialize and I think the land reverted to the lot at the south from whence it came, and Mr. Alonzo Hopkins, who owned the property to which it reverted, took it over and the building was dismantled and at present only the stone underpinning remains.  It is the property of Mr. Clark who owns the place facing the Woodbury turn.  B. L. Bruce tells me the lumber for the church came from Lanesboro in Marshfield, delivered at $5. per m.

  The Seventh Day Advent Church was organized in the early eighties and a building, never entirely completed, constructed on the left side of the highway leading to South West Hill, a short distance beyond the old school house now occupied as a residence by Mr. and Mrs. Scott, and about the location of the residence of Mr. Atkins.

  As I recall, the interest in this organization began in about 1881 or 2 by some who came from out of town and held meetings in a tent just off the highway between the villages on the meadow just above the Perkins bridge.  I recall that as my father was driving us home from the services at the upper village, our horse was so frightened at the sight of the tent that she refused to pass it until my father persuaded her with a liberal application of the whip, and then she shied to one side and nearly overturned us in the ditch.  Very few of the nearby people were interested in the enterprise, most of them living about West Hill and some from East Woodbury.  One of these was a man by the name of "Gus" Wilbur who lived in E. Woodbury on the road leading to Sabin's Pond.  One Saturday, probably in April, when it was difficult to go with either sleigh or wagon, he came by our place on the hill with a wagon from which the tire and felly of one of the rear wheels was entirely gone and it was bumping along on the end of the spokes.  He stopped to pass the time of day with my father and then went on bumpety-bump to church.

  The building was erected, roofed and clapboarded and windows and doors put in and that was as far as it ever got.  Services were held at irregular intervals for only a year or two and then it was closed and so remained until years later it was sold to Edwin Paquin who used it as a paint shop.  Later Mr. Paquin built the square house, east from where the church stood, on the main road leading to Marshfield.  The church was dismantled and the material used in construction of a shop on the site of the burned Haines woolen factory.

  Mr. Fisher brings the history of the Congregational and Methodist churches up to the time he composed his history which was 1881.  I shall attempt to pick up the threads of narration about where he left off and bring up to 1951, a period of seventy years of which I have a very good recollection, though I have spent a larger part of these years away from Cabot, but have been there for short periods nearly every year, as some of our family have resided there most of the time.

  Until the churches were united to form the United Church of Cabot, in 1928, the interest and attendance of the two churches was always just about on a par.  Through all the years there was a spirit of friendliness and cooperation on the part of both.  Our family all belonged to the Methodist church and my father held most of the responsible positions there at one time and another until 1893 when he married for his second wife, Miss Lelia Haines, whose family from the beginning of the town had been prominently identified with the Congregational church.  Following their marriage, he began attending that church with her and later became a deacon of that church.  We children continued to belong to and attend the Methodist.  The division even extended to the pair of horses which worked together during the week.  The brown mare, Nell, carried us children to the Methodist church and the bay, Tib, went to the Congo.  They protested the situation by often calling to each other in loud whinnies during the services, to the amusement of people in either church who knew the situation.

  For all the friendliness between the two churches, it was but human that there should be a spirit of rivalry also.  It was often quite truthfully said that if one of them made a special move and seemed to forge ahead for a bit, this was a signal for the other to get busy in some way that might equal or, if possible, exceed the other.  One of the pleasant memories of my boyhood as we drove into the village on a Sunday morning, was to listen to the two bells of different tones as they tolled in alternate strokes back and two across the common.  The Methodist bell was pitched in a higher and, I still think, a sweeter musical note than the other.  Soon after the federation of the churches the Methodist bell was sold, I think to some junk dealer in Barre for about eighty dollars.  It was a fine copper and tin bell and even in the days in which it was purchased, I think cost over four hundred dollars.  I have heard rumors that it went to a Catholic church in or about Barre.

  Instead of attempting to narrate the affairs of each of these churches separately to the time of their uniting.  I think it will be of more interest to speak of the activities as they went on from year to year in a healthy rivalry.  The Methodist church was heated, as most country churches were in those days, by two large wood burning stoves placed in the rear of the church and long lengths of pipe reaching across the church and entering chimneys at the other end.  Those in the Methodist church were arranged differently than any other I can recall, in that the front ends and firing doors were located in the vestibule as one entered the church.  The fronts were cased across at the partition with sheet iron for several feet, leaving all but the front ends in the church auditorium.  This method had some advantages.  It provided some warmth for the vestibule, where the men hung their coats and hats in the half at the left and the ladies at the right.  There were doors entering the auditorium also from either side.  During the pastorate of Rev. A. B. Enright, about 1885, an excavation was made underneath the church sufficiently large to permit the installation of a hot air furnace which also burned wood.  As I recall, the Congregational church was heated with two large stoves in the basement and stove pipes running the full length and the church above was heated by making an incision in the floor underneath each pew through which the heat from below passed up through and was distributed to each pew.  I think this arrangement continued until the present system came about by a very complete remodeling of the church in 1898, fully described in my stepmother's scrap book Page 121.  Recently, (1952) automatic oil heat was installed.

  About the year 1895, a Miss Mary Lance, who since the days of the Civil War had lived the life of a recluse, left the Methodist church the sum of $1000, as a memorial, for the purchase of a pipe organ.  I may as well here, as anywhere, relate the story of Miss Lance.  It seems she was engaged to a young soldier by the name of Morrill, whose name appears on the Cabot monument, I think as Capt. Morrill and for whom the G.A.R. Post in Cabot was named.  He died, or was killed in the war, and from that time on Miss Lance rarely, and I think I am correct in saying, never was seen in public afterward.  She lived and died in the large white house back of the gristmill dam now owned and occupied by Mrs. Earl J. Rogers.  All of the somewhat numerous family of the Lances were identified with the Methodist church from about its beginning.  This gift necessitated the building of the organ loft in the rear of the pulpit and a general reconstruction of that end of the church.  The organ was dedicated in the winter of 1896-7.  Professor Blampied, instructor in organ and piano at Montpelier Seminary, came from there together with Miss Johnson who was instructor in vocal music at the same place and also one or two of her pupils.  I was a student at the Seminary at the time and went along with them.  When the churches united the organ was moved to the other church, replacing a small pipe organ that had been in use there many years and was sold to the Methodist church in Plainfield, where it is now in use.  A picture of Miss Lance now hangs in the gallery of the United church.

  In 1898 the Congregational church went under a thorough renovation and interior reconstruction, bringing it to the condition as now one may see it in 1951.  A complete description of the work done and its rededication may be found on P. 121 of Lelia Blodgett's scrap book.

  In the Methodist church in the years of 1902 or 3, under the pastorate and leadership of Rev. O. E. Aiken, the old, (probably locally made) pews were taken out, a hardwood floor laid and new circular oak pews purchased and installed.  The entrances from the vestibule by a door from either side were closed and a central entrance constructed; the side walls and overhead were redecorated and I am not sure whether it was at this time, or previously, that memorial windows were installed.  They were the same windows that are now in the buildmg, but I think much of the lettering which was painted on them has vanished.  When it was finally decided to use the other church the year around for services and the Methodist church turned over to the town for a school gymnasium, about half of the pews were sold to the Pentecostal church in Plainfield.  A few years later, while I was pastor of the Methodist church in Jay N. Y., we were rebuilding the downstairs chapel and were looking for some modern pews.  I secured the remainder of them and we installed them there.  I have the deed made to my father for pew No. 54 but do not know which church it is now in.  Recently the town has done a more extensive work of excavating and construction underneath the church.  The pulpit and some other pieces of furniture were transferred to the other church.  In 1949-50 a portico was constructed over the side door of the United Church and modern toilets installed.

  The Methodists had a neat and comfortable parsonage, during all its years, over on Elm St., which was sold some years ago to Mrs. Lillian Meehan.  Whatever parsonages the Congregational Church may have had previous to the coming to town of Rev. H. A. Russell, I cannot say.  With his coming in the early eighties, he purchased the large white house that has been the property of Dr. L. W. Burbank for more than half a century.  Here Rev. and Mrs. Russell lived during the many years of their residence in town.  Since that time the Congregational and United Church have owned and occupied several places about the village, two at least of which I think were willed to them by previous owners.  The present one, along side the Common, was acquired about 1945.  A wood-lot about a half mile to the west of the village, on what has always been known as Dana's Ledge, was deeded to the United church by Dean W. Fisher some years ago to be used as a source of supply of wood for the church.  Both churches have quite an accumulation of invested funds that have been left to them in the wills of former members and citizens of the town.  The town clock was the gift of Rev. and Mrs. H. A. Russell during the early years of his pastorate.

  I will record, mostly from memory, something of the events and people that sponsored these churches from the early eighties up to recently.  As might have been expected, the Congregational church catered a bit more to the generally considered IMPORTANT families of the community, while the Methodists were more ROUGH AND READY and appealed more to the rank and file.  As I have already said, they were about equal in attendance, financial support and enterprise.  For many years through the eighties and nineties, the salary paid to the pastors of each church was about six hundred dollars and the Methodists in addition, furnished a parsonage and, only perhaps with the exception of the pastorate of Rev. H. A. Russell, the other church did the same.  Mr. Russell and wife were credited with possessing  some wealth and owned their own home.  With the coming of the present century, a gradual increase began to take place in salaries, and I think that when the churches were united about 1930, they were each paying around twelve hundred and house.

  I discover from a program of the event in the scrap book of Mrs. Wheeler, that the Methodist church underwent a renovation and was rededicated in January 1920.  The papering and decorating was done by C. A. Heath and men of Barre.  This is a son of the Heath spoken of who used to paint in the Carriage shop in Cabot and did the curtain for the dramatic stage.  A new heating plant was also installed, the work being done by J. T. Drew, the local plumber and hardware man.  The pastor was E. L. Goddard and the dedication sermon was preached by Bishop Edwin H. Hughes, a long time famous Bishop of the church and probably the only bishop to ever preach in Cabot.

  This scrap and picture book of Mrs. Wheeler contains some excellent pictures of both the exterior and interior of the Methodist church.  I left Cabot in 1891 to return only for short periods, so did not know the pastors and their works in any large measure after that time.  But I would like to speak concerning those I did know intimately in the eighties and nineties.

  Rev. H. A. Russell, a graduate of Yale and his wife came to Cabot in the early eighties and he served the Congregational church until some time in the nineties.  Doubtless the longest pastorate of any man who ever served in Cabot.  He was a man of high scholarship and wrote his sermons and read them without any deviation from the written text.  His voice was not strong, but clear, and he never changed its pitch or tone from beginning to close.  But if one would give their attention, they would find logical and spiritual truth set forth in splendid classical English.  He was such a fine example of the scholar and citizen and Christian, that he was highly esteemed by all who knew him.  However, to those who could or would not give close attention to the young, he was respected and endured, rather than appreciated.  A few days ago, I was talking with Earl J. Rogers and we were speaking of him.  Earl said, "I used to sit there as a small boy and watch him as he turned the leaves of his sermon which lay in the big open pulpit Bible, I supposed he was turning the pages of the Bible as he read and used to wonder if I had to listen until he had turned all the pages of that big book."
The system of itinerating in the Methodist church made it obligatory for the pastors to be changed after only a short pastorate.  The first I recall was every three years, but this was extended to five in the late eighties.  At about this time, the Methodists had at least two very outstanding pastors.  Rev. Joel O. Sherburne, a native of Plainfield, Vt., was a graduate of Wesleyan University in Middletown, Conn.

  As I recall hearing one describe him, he was like King Saul of old who stood head and shoulders above the crowd.  This was physically as well as intellectually true.  He was a man of striking appearance, large head and wearing a side beard, somewhat over 6 feet in height and probably weighed about 250 lbs.  He was quiet of manner and possessed of a soft pleasing voice.  He came to Cabot after serving a pastorate of two years at Trinity Church in Montpelier.  It may be inquired as to why, after serving only two years in Montpelier, he was seemingly demoted by being transferred to Cabot.  For one to know the man was to know the reason.  He was so absolutely democratic in his way of life and so unpretentious that there were some in the Montpelier church who thought he should put on a little more the GENTEEL.  He kept a horse (and perhaps a cow) and being a farm boy, born and bred, he thought it no disgrace to take his horse and sled and drive through the streets to some farm house where he procured a load of hay or wood, probably donated him.  When the people of Cabot heard that of him, they said they guessed he could do all of that he wished in Cabot and none would think the less of him.  One time in Cabot, a neighbor was about to have his wood pile sawed and discovered at the last minute they lacked a man to throw away the blocks as they were cut from the large logs.  Someone suggested that possibly Mr. Sherburne might accommodate and ventured to go and ask him.  He agreed and all day long they said he hurled the great blocks away from the saw with probably more ease than any other man present could have done for, as I have said, he was a large, powerful man. 

  One year, at Decoration time, he was engaged to deliver the Memorial Day address and when it was over, I heard one man remark, "We couldn't have done better if we had sent to Washington and engaged a U. S. Senator."  He remained the five year limit in Cabot and it was during his pastorate that I was baptized by him and received into the church.  When I entered the Christian ministry it was he who, as Presiding Elder of the St. Johnsbury district, sponsored me for my first appointment and was my Dist. Supt. On one occasion he was the nominee of the Prohibition Party for the office of governor of Vermont.  The pictures of the three candidates, Republican, Democrat and Prohibition, were published in the magazine, Vermonter, I recall hearing a young man say that if one were to judge from their pictures which one was the superior of the three and vote accordingly, he guessed there would be no doubt of Mr. Sherburne's election.

  The pastor who succeeded him was also a unique character, but entirely a different man.  John A. Dixon was a short, thick set Englishman.  He had been a sailor on the Seven Seas.  His arms were tattooed and he was boiling over with vim and activity.  He stirred up the church and community as it had not been stirred for years and brought many, both old and young into the church.  I recall that the annual Sunday school report stated there were some one hundred and fifty on the roll and the average attendance was eighty-five for the year.  They had one son who, all his life, was a barber in Hardwick.  I do not know whether he is still alive.

  I will now relate an experience I had as a boy, not in the Methodist, but in the Congregational church.  Of course, it was expected of the Methodists that they should oft hold "Revival Services I know that this was oft times true of the Cabot church and it was sometimes said that when they were over that the Congregational church often reaped full as good a harvest from them as the Methodists.  I recall hearing Mrs. Gertrude Wells say during a discussion in an adult S. S. class in the United church, only a few years before her death, when the question was raised as to how many could recall if or ever they had the recollection of a definite conversion that she said she could and it was during meetings held in the Methodist church and she was one of these I mention received into the Congregational church.  I have no recollection of ever having attended such services in the Methodist church, and living back on a farm so far from the village might account for this.  When I was about ten, I remember the Congregational church, doubtless thinking they were in need of some move in this direction, engaged a professional evangelist to come and hold a series of meetings in that church.  It was in the midst of winter.  The man engaged was rather young and as I remember him, looked rather pale and anemic.  He wore a long Prince Albert coat that reached below his knees.  My chance attendance at one of the meetings he was holding was in this wise.  Some play was to be given in the old village hall at Cabot.  My older brother and older sisters were to attend.  Of course, I also desired to attend, but money was scarce and father decided that I must make the sacrifice. As a palliative he said I might ride to the village and could go to the revival service being held at the Congregational Church.  At any rate, it afforded me an opportunity to get out for the evening and so I decided to make the best of a forced situation.  It was a cold winter night and at least the warmth of the church was a comfort after a ride of two and a half miles in a pung sleigh.

  The meeting was held in the room below.  That was before the church had been remodeled and the south end was a solid back wall of the room.  A plain board seat was built against this wall, and also on either side of the room.  There were a few rows of chairs facing the platform in which were seated a very small audience and perhaps a very few on the sides near the front.  I would say in all, not over twenty-five or thirty people.  I was the sole occupant of the seat across the rear, and for that matter, the only one all the way down to the few rows of chairs at the front.

  After the evangelist had used a due portion of time preaching and exhorting, he announced that he wished all Christians present to go and privately labor with any present whom they felt needed their labours to persuade them to begin the Christian life.  There was a moving about amongst those in the chairs at the front.  I sat in fear and trembling, hoping that so inconspicuous a little fellow as I, sitting all alone there in the back of the room, would not be the object of any attention.  No one seemed to be looking my way.  The evangelist went and addressed himself to two or three sitting on the side seat at the front.  Then I saw his upward glance turned in my direction and he made a bee line across that long room.  By the time he reached me I must have been as rigid and frozen as an icicle.  He said, "Young man are you a Christian?" I don't know as I could have spoken if I had tried.  I sat transfixed, gazing into space and never uttered a word.  I have often thought and pitied the man in the parable spoken of by Jesus, who coming into the wedding without a wedding garment on when he was asked by the ruler of the great feast as to what excuse he had being present without due adornment did the same as I, he was speechless.  After repeating his inquiry and addressing a bit more conversation to me, during which I moved not a muscle or even looked as though I heard, when the silence had just about become embarrassing to him, as well as to myself, he finally said, "Young man, am I to understand by your refusal to speak that you wish to go to Hell?" After another embarrassing moment in which I still refused to commit myself even to answer such a leading question as this, and, of course, to my great relief, he turned and departed even as he had come.  The picture of his milk white face, that long Prince Albert and those skinny hands are as vividly imprinted on my memory today as they were two thirds of a century ago.  It has always been some satisfaction to recall that he did not exactly consign me to Hell, but only inquired as to my desire and intention which, it is quite obvious, I might have answered in a way that might have relieved the pressure.

  In those days, both churches felt a united urge to carry the gospel to Samaria and "All the parts round about Illericum," which meant Sunday afternoons during the summer a delegation would go to West Hill Pond school house and to the school house on Cabot Plains and hold meetings.  Usually the pastors from the churches would take charge, but often the leaders were someone or more members from the churches.  Social song books, containing the well known songs of the time were a part of the equipment.  Usually a cabinet organ from some nearby home would be brought in, assisting much, of course, in leading the singing.  I frequently attended at West Hill and it was not uncommon to have all the seats filled and chairs brought in.  Well I recall with what enthusiasm those present took part in singing as well as praying and "testifying."  One good old lady, Miranda Noyes, seemed particularly happy as she joined in singing the familiar songs.  From that day to this, as these scenes come to memory, I can hear her voice cracking off key and pitch as she launched into the refrain of There is a Fountain filled with Blood, "Wash alll my sins ahwaa, wash alll my sins ahwaaa" and the last verse,  "Redeeming love has been my theeeme and shaaallll be 'till I diiie."

  One incident that took place at one of these meetings was considerably out of the expected.  A certain old man and his wife who had all his life, or I should say early life, been prominent in the affairs of the town resided on a small farm beside the pond, had a controversy with a neighbor one evening on his land near the west end of the dam.  It seems they came to blows.  A bit later, some of the younger fellows nearby constructed a monument out of planed boards and with appropriate lettering by stencil, dedicated TO THE HEROES WHO FOUGHT HERE (heroes spelled heros) placed it in position at the spot of combat.  Now the old gentleman was withal a religious man and could always be counted on to have a part in these meetings.  Shortly after this incident as the meeting was in progress on a Sunday afternoon, the old man slowly arose, as he was wont to do, and clearing his throat with several ahems he began to speak.  I should have said that during the meetings he was quite given to putting in an occasional and solemn "Amen."

  On this occasion he had no sooner begun to speak than one of those daring youngsters began to punctuate his exhortations with an occasional solemn AMEN.  The old man turned slowly and looked in the direction and at the young fellow from whence it came.  I do not really remember just what the outcome was, but knowing what had recently taken place, I rather fear that the solemnity of the meeting was at an end.

  Of course, each of the churches held a weekly evening prayer meeting, I think in each case on Thursday evening.  At what period these were discontinued I cannot say, but probably about the time the churches were united, around 1930.  In the eighties and nineties, a week night prayer meeting was often held in the lower Cabot school house.  Also sometimes in the homes of those residing in the South West Hill Dist.  These were altogether of local origin, someone being appointed at each meeting to have charge the next week.  Those held on Southwest Hill were often more of the nature of getting together for a sing.  A family named Tucker living on the Gibb's Hill Farm, now for nearly seventy years known as the John Tibbett's farm had the first piano I ever recollect of seeing and hearing, though I think the Dr, Wiswell home in Cabot village may have had one as early, or even before.

  Children's Day was even more of a gala event in the churches then than now.  There are some sample programs in the scrap book of my stepmother of the Congregational church and possibly in Mrs. Wheeler's of the Methodist.  I recall that in one of these in the Methodist, Walter Myers, son of one of the village blacksmiths, a strapping boy of about twelve, had for his recitation a piece, each verse of which ended with the exhortation to "Do something for somebody quick."  As he came to the refrain of each verse, he put on a bit more pressure and the audience began to smile and then to laugh, and he did also until by the time he was finishing there was little to remind one that they were in a religious assembly.  A similar event took place about this time under about the same circumstances in the Congregational church.  An older boy who came from a home where it was town talk that the father, a rather small and quiet man, was dominated by a very capable wife.  This boy opened his piece in a particularly high pitched voice, which was natural to him, by saying, "Be kind to father, that poor old man" and I understand reiterated this appeal throughout the declamation: much to the apparent amusement of adults who knew the situation in the home.

  Another amusing incident in connection with the Methodist church was as follows.

  In the eighties, when there was still the custom of holding both a forenoon and afternoon preaching service, those away from on the farms would usually bring along a bit of lunch to be consumed after the Sunday school hour which was held directly after the morning service.  On a certain Sunday, a man who lived on the Plains, after he had eaten his lunch, pulled from his pocket a plug of chewing tobacco and opening his pocket knife proceeded to cut off a chew.  Some woman, standing nearby, stepped up to him and said, "What do you want to put that dirty stuff in your mouth for?" In reply he said, "You see, lady, it is like this.  I have just eaten an apple and I want something to take off the taste."

  On one occasion, near the close of Sunday school, the Supt. asked if anyone would like to ask a question concerning the Lesson.  The "golden text" of this particular lesson was a well known verse from Prov. 22 - 6, "Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it."  Someone raised the question as to whether they thought this was so.  There was silence for a moment and then a man by the name of Palmer Elmer, who stuttered badly, made the following reply.  "Sometimes I  think train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will run like a deer."

  The Congregational and Methodist Churches became united July 7, 1928 and the first service after uniting was July 15, 1928.  The understanding was that each church should maintain its own organization and that one pastor should serve both societies and that worship should take place alternately every six months in each church.  The Congregational church was to secure the first pastor as representing that church.  After the larger part of a year had passed without any one of that faith consenting to take over, their committee invited a returned missionary from the Baptist denomination to come for a Sunday.  I never knew of there being a Baptist in the entire community but there quite was a general liking of the man, Mr.  Hildreth, and as he had no immediate prospect of employment he agreed to come and serve as pastor.  As a bona-fide Baptist and, of course, immersionist about the first difficulty he experienced was to know what to do as he had a request to come to the east part of the town and baptize a young lady who was at the point of death.  He consulted with a Committee from the churches and asked them what he had better do, seeing he believed only in immersion.  They told him he better go along and baptize a la sprinkling.  This he did and settled down to a very successful pastorate of some seven years.  During this time he converted to the faith of the Congregational church, but has served federated churches since and I think is so doing in Connecticut.

  The next pastor was Rev. Auburn Carr, a Methodist and member of the Vermont Methodist Conf.  He was pastor for four years, 1936 - 1940.  During this time it was decided to abandon the Methodist church building and concentrate everything in the Congregational church.  I understand by an act of the Vermont Legislature, each church deeded the other a half interest in all their rights and properties and legally consolidated as the United Church of Cabot.  At the annual Conf. of the Methodist church, Mr. Carr was offered a more tempting morsel as pastor of the church at Richford and so he removed and at this writing is still pastor of the Green Mt. larger Parish, taking in not only Richford but several other smaller churches including a Congregational and a Baptist, and having an assistant.  This left the Cabot church open again for the Congregationals to scout for a pastor.  After some months of attempting to find a permanent man, they secured the services of another Baptist pastor, Rev. E. H. Nickerson from Groton, Mr. Nickerson's background was Methodist.  His people and he as a young man being members of the First Methodist church in Brockton, Mass., whose pastor for some years while Mr. Nickerson was a boy was Rev. Edward Wells, a Woodbury, Vermont and later Barre, Vermont boy who was one of my closest friends while I was a student at Montpelier Seminary, Mr. Nickerson, after a time at Cabot came to our Methodist annual Conf. with the intent of taking his relations again to the Methodist church but, for some reasons of which I am not aware, never made the change.  After about eight years of very good service to the Cabot church he became pastor of the Federated church in Derby, Vermont.

  It might have been expected that the next pastor would be furnished by the Methodist church but instead, Rev. Mr. Ahokus, a Congregationalist, was called to serve the parish.  In May 1953, Rev. E. A. Hannay, a Methodist from New York State became pastor.
 
 

  The two oldest doctors so far as I recall about 1880, were Dr. S. L. Wiswell at Cabot village and Dr. M. P. Wallace at Lower Cabot.  I think Dr. Wallace built the buildings which Mr. and Mrs. Rex Babbitt now own and come to reside during the summer.  At least he built the barn.  He was our family doctor for some years and officiated when I was born.  They had one daughter who married Mr. Luke C. Fisher who was one of Cabot's most progressive farmers.  Mrs. Wallace always raised a great profusion of flowers both within and without the house.  The Dr. drove a white faced sorrel horse and in the summer covered her with a fly netting and he himself wore a long tan duster.  He had an office and sort of apothecary shop at the end of the horse sheds adjoining the McDaniels store, facing the turn to West Hill.  After the death of his wife, he spent his old age and died at the home of his daughter, Mrs. Fisher.

  Dr. Wiswell came to Cabot in its "boom" days about the close of the Civil War, or perhaps a bit later.   His wife was a Crosby from Hardwick and inherited, what was considered for the times, a large fortune from her parents.  I have heard that they came to Cabot because Hardwick had bonded itself for the railroad and Cabot had not, so that there would be quite a saving thereby in taxes.  They built what was thought to be quite a mansion, where they lived the remainder of their lives.  It was afterwards the home of their daughter, Mrs. Gertrude Wells and now of their granddaughter, Mrs. Marjorie Coyle.  When I was a youngster I went with my father to his place after the Sunday service was out to have my first experience of having a tooth pulled.  As he yanked it out, I let out a lusty yell (it was on the front porch) and Polly parrot on a perch nearby said loudly "Whew."

  With the coming of other doctors to Cabot, Dr. Wiswell did not continue a very active practice into the late years of his life.  His principal hobby was to do fine cabinet work.  The house, which was his home for many years, is a memorial to his talent in this direction.  The inlaid floors and side walls which he constructed there, are something worth seeing.

  In the early eighties a young doctor by the name of M. D. Warren came from his graduation from the Medical College of the University of Vermont to settle in Cabot.  He was a native of the state of Maine.  His first residence was the first house south of the creamery and now owned by the creamery and occupied by its manager.  Later he bought the place now owned by Mr. Bert Tebbetts, on the left a short way above the United Church.  Here he spent the remainder of his life.  He was a very active and energetic man, not afraid to tackle anything that pertained to the human body.  If he made mistakes, he was of that profession of which it is said they can bury them.  He was one of a few country doctors whose title, Physician - Surgeon, meant the latter as well as the former.  He was perhaps the first of that profession in Cabot to perform the operation for the removal of the appendix.  It is a well established fact that being called to a farm home in Woodbury, or Calais, he diagnosed the case as an acute case of appendicitis.  This was in the early days of operations for this difficulty.  It was apparent that if the patient were to survive, and immediate operation was necessary.  With such limited surgical instruments as he carried about with him from day to day, he proceeded to operate then and there.  Clearing the kitchen table and probably covered with a clean sheet, he placed the farmer on the same and administered chloroform.  Then, while some member of the family attended to further administering of the chloroform, and another held the kerosene lamp, he operated and removed the troublesome member.  I have heard on the best of authority that the man was back at his haying again in a bout a week.  Only a few years ago, shortly before his decease, he was called to the home of one of our relatives where a man, who was laboring there, had met with quite a severe accident and a surgical operation was necessary.  My sister Alice was stopping there at the time and was perhaps the only woman, or person present.  The doctor administered the ether and then turning the continued application of that over to my sister, he proceeded to operate.  Of a sudden the patient stopped breathing, whereupon the doctor snatched away the sponge of ether, my sister was applying, and catching the man and raising him to a sitting position, opened his mouth and pulling his tongue forward, applied artificial respiration until he revived and then the doctor went on and completed the surgery.  As hospitals became available, the doctor availed himself of their privilege and performed many major operations, usually in the St. Johnsbury hospital.  I cannot recall that I ever saw Dr. Warren drive a horse at a walk.   His horses were well cared for and hardened to the usage he gave them.  Sometimes he drove two, but usually only one.  I recall once coming home to Cabot from East Cabot over Danville Hill.  As I came over the hill and could look down the straightway nearly to the village, I saw him coming up the hill over a drifted road that was hardly passable, but his big bay was trying to trot and plunging at nearly every jump.

  Also in the eighties another young doctor, just out of medical school, came and resided in Cabot for a few years.  His name was Fred Gale and he was a native of Plainfield.  He was almost the opposite nature from Dr. Warren.  Quiet, unassuming, red hair, red mustache and rather good looking.  Dr. Warren was rather dark and swarthy and so far as I remember, always wore a full beard.  Dr. Gale did not marry, at least as long as he lived in Cabot, which was only a few years.  I think he sold out his practice to another young doctor who also came from Plainfield, as also, did his wife, Dr. William Goodale.  Up to this time, the training of a physician was not the strenuous and long exacting thing that it has become in later years.  I lived in the home of Dr. Goodale and went to school to the man who was to become his successor, Dr. Lester W. Burbank.  Dr. Goodale's preparation for entrance to the Medical college of the University of Vermont consisted of such learning as the district schools of Plainfield afforded at the time.  No high school, no chemistry, no biology, probably a bit of physiology, since the requirements of the state laws at that time made this a must in all the public schools of the state.  I recall that the Dr. told me he had no chemistry before he entered medical college.  Three yearly terms, beginning in January and ending in June was all that was required for securing a diploma, no internship after graduation.  It would probably be well within the truth to say that the knowledge now possessed by a graduate nurse is far superior to anything a graduate in medicine possessed in those days.  It was only in the nineties that the requirements began to make at least graduation from a high school requisite for admission to medical college, at least to most colleges.  Of course, there were some even then who had been through preparatory schools and obtained a college degree before entering upon a course in medicine, but they were the exception.  In these later years, one must either have a college degree to enter a medical college, or at least a combination course of seven years in college and medicine to be followed by an internship of from one to two years in a hospital of recognized standards before they can begin the practice of medicine.  Dr. Goodale remained in practice in Cabot only until 1896 when he removed to Montpelier where he practiced until his decease.

  Dr. Lester Warren Burbank was born on a farm near Walden Depot in 1866.  Few indeed have been the men that have been so long and favorably identified with the history of Cabot.  This writer has known him intimately since he first came to Cabot at about the age of twenty, where he worked for more than one summer season on the farm of Eben Burnap on Southwest Hill.  My first real impression of him and the old saying, "First impressions are lasting" have been true in this case.  While thus working, he had some part in a play which was being put on in the old Town Hall in Cabot village. I shall always remember his perfect poise and pleasant voice and blue eyes as he came upon the stage.  He had been in and out for some terms in Hardwick Academy and it was reported that he arose before the rest of the family were up at Burnap's to pursue studies for entrance to Dartmouth College.  He successfully passed his examinations and entered Dartmouth in the fall of 1889, I believe.  I think he had taught a few terms of school before this time.  The terms at Dartmouth were so arranged that many of its students could get out early in December and teach a term of ten to twelve weeks and return to college and catch up with their work and so complete the year.  This, I believe, Dr. Burbank did all of the four years he was at Dartmouth and also the three following years he was in medical college in Burlington.  I think all of these winters he was employed at teaching in Cabot, Lower Cabot, Marshfield and Plainfield.

  On the completion of his course in medicine, he purchased the practice of Dr. Goodale in Cabot in the summer of 1896.  A good description of his long residence in Cabot together with his picture and that of his residence and the celebration of the fiftieth wedding anniversary of him and his wife, may be found in the scrap book of Mrs. Bertha Wheeler.  Dr. Burbank was an unusual character.  I do not think he was raised in any particular religious background.  I have heard him say that his parents were of a Universalist belief.  He was of a large family of children, several of whom made quite a mark for themselves, some of them in the field of education.  He was a clean man in every sense of the word.  I never heard him speak a word that would not have been perfectly fit to have been said in the presence of ladies.  Some years ago, I was having conversation with a lady who was a native of Cabot, but not living there in late years and who doubtless went to school to him, say, "Dr. Burbank is the only man I have ever known in whom I felt that I could have perfect confidence."  I heard one of our neighbor's boys tell this of him when he was working on the Burnap farm.  Someone of the company of boys started to tell a dirty story.  He listened for a moment and then walked away, remarking, "I don't care to listen to your dirty stories."  When he first came to Cabot, as a boy, he became a member of the Good Templars Lodge, and remained a member and held all of its important offices as long as it functioned.  He was a teetotaler and he never used tobacco in any form.  He was for many years the town Supt. of schools, had much to do in the management and construction of the present Willey Memorial and Library; prominent in the Masonic order, served the town for a term as representative in the Legislature; has been Pres. of the Vermont Medical Assn., and held other offices of public trust.  While I think he never joined the church, he has always been an attendant whenever circumstances permitted and gave it liberal financial support.

  His wife was also a girl from a Walden farm, Miss May Stevens.  She was a teacher in Vermont schools.  For some years before their marriage, she taught in the Barre City schools.  Dr. and Mrs. Burbank had one daughter, Mrs. John Welch.

  Some forty years ago Dr. Burbank made the prophecy that as things were trending, there would not be a physician in Cabot in another generation.  His prophecy proved to be correct.  For the past few years Cabot has had to send to Hardwick, Plainfield and Danville, or to places at a greater distance, to secure medical service.  I think it was at the annual town meeting in 1948 that it was voted to subsidize a physician to the amount of two thousand dollars, if one would settle in Cabot.  The offer went unheeded for a year or two.  In 1950 a doctor by the name Caffin came to town and stayed about a year.  He was musically educated and became a great help in the church and community.  For some reason, unknown to me, he suddenly left about the first of January 1951.  He had recommended a friend of his, who was an osteopath, by the name of Benjamin Vail, who came from St. Albans and is there at this writing, April 2, 1951.