Wyandot County, Ohio - Town of Uppee Sandusky - Crane Township, 1884 (part 2 of 3)

Once at the death-bed of a friend, when the poor wife, prostrate with grief, found relief in an anguish of tears, Trager, who was choking with sobs and the big tears running down his cheeks, said: "Maggie, don't cry for Jim. I never cry. Now be a man, Maggie, and don't cry. See how calm I am, and I would have bet my last dollar on Jim. The last words Jim said, were: ' Tell Maggie not to cry;' '' and here the great heart broke down entirely with the impulses of his tender nature. Recovering sufficiently to look upon his dead friend, he muttered half soliloquising, and half in the direction of the bereaved wife, to stimulate her with words of solace: That poor Jim was his best friend; that he had pitched horse-shoes with him a thousand times; that Jim never would cheat nor go back on a saw-off; and while old Steve and Red Thread, and even young Frank would try to get the better of him on a side flip, Jim always toed the mark and bought his pitcher of cider like a little man. And. Maggie, I was talking to Jim a short time before he died, and he said he was going home, and that death had no terror, if it wasn't for leaving his darling wife; and says he, "will you look after Maggie some, when its cold, Abe; when the flour's low; and if the poor thing gets sick, will you, Abe?" And then he smiled and pointing upward, said: "Its there, Abe; a star is shining, oh, so bright; and a little hand beckons me toward its beautiful light. Two little wings peep from under that star, and a bright, sweet face! It is my child, Abe; the darling boy who left us years ago! He's there, Abe. waiting and watching - waiting and watching! Tell Maggie we'll wait for her, where there's no death, and where the star shines. " Another peaceful smile and another hand reaching for the bright light and Jim was with his child. This glimpse of the immortal was a bow of promise to the stricken wife. If poor Jim could not stay with her, he could clasp to his breast their darling boy, and she could go to them - to Jim and her darling - where there is no death, and where the star shines. And old Abe was sitting astride a chair, with his chin resting upon its back, wiping the moisture from his eyes, and assuring Maggie that he never shed a tear in his life, and if she would cheer up he would tell her the biggest joke on his old woman she ever heard. "And Jim was with me, Maggie, and didn't he enjoy it? He said it was as good as getting married, and you know he always said that when he was extra pleased. Ain't that so Jim? " In a moment unmindful of the scene of death, old Abe had turned to the pallid features of his dead friend for the playful response that in life was so much a part of his nature, and again wiping the big tears from his eyes, muttered in broken sobs: " I did, Maggie, yes, I did - I - I - forgot poor Jim was dead; but don't cry; see how calm I am, and I loved Jim dearer than a brother. He was just boss on a chicken roast, and one Saturday afternoon, my old woman killed two lovely chicks, fat as coons, filled 'em with stuffin' and laid 'em on the milk house to sweat. She was expecting the preacher next day, and when she has preacher on the brain for dinnei', old Abe has to go on short allowance; so 1 thought I would hold a full hand on those chickens. I told Jim to meet me at Chaffee's mill, and we'd^ roast 'em at the coal pit, and didn't we? You ought to have seen Jim go for that spotted hen. He just made it in ten minutes and was still hunofry. He's the last fellow I ever thought would die, while so many chickens were running around loose. He said he'd take the breast bone home and try luck with Maggie. I didn't take mine home. I knew there would be no luck for me if I did; so I spent the balance of the day at the coal pit. In the evening I went home and told mother I never was so hungry since I had the measles; and if she had a piece of chicken left I would take a leg or two; and then you ought to have seen that old gal git up and dust! She just opened her mouth and screamed, 'It was yoa who stole my chickens, I know it was. Oh, Abe, Abe, how could you be so cruel?' 'Why woman have you been to the mourner's bench, that you've got it so bad? What about chickens? I just left old Ponder and he was swearing about snakes! Now its chickens! Never heard that it was chickens before. Mother, that current wine is entirely too strong, but I'd rather have it chickens than snakes; but what about your blamed poultry any how? Its a sad thing that the father of this family can't have at least a wing to gnaw at, after a hard day's work at burning charcoal. Gave it all to Tabler, eh? Well, all right, mother, dish up those cold potatoes and second-hand onions. Haven't touched a morsel since morning.' But she kept on yelling, 'where's my chickens, you old wretch?' 'Well, chickens again', said I, 'don't it beat h - 1. Sis, go down and tell Dock Mason to come up and look at your mother's tongue, for I don't like this chicken business a bit; the next thing we know it will be snakes, then goodbye, Eliza Jane! Chickens! Me take your chickens! Why, gorolmighty, mother, did you ever know a blacksmith to steal chickens while tiring a coal pit? Bet your life Russ Bigelow has taken those chickens, and I'll go right down to the shop and look after the bones. If I can't find bones, I'll weigh the Ingin, and if he pulls down ten pounds more than usual, he's got 'em,' and I'll whale the whisky out of him.' 'So it wasn't you then, Abe?* 'No, darling; I ain't that kind of a shanghai. I would't eat a chicken at no coal pit; neither would Jim; and Frank Tripp vrill cross his breast and tell jou, that when I'm firing a coal pit, I hate the sight of chickens; for the Scriptures say, when your burning charcoal on Sunday, eat nothing but old Chaffee's roasting ears. ' "

In the foregoing is indicated the nature of good old Abe Trager, who was the life of our town in early days. Many of our older citizens will remember him with emotions of pleasure and recall to mind the incidents we have related; or many so strikinglv similar, that thev will say, ''yes, that's Abe."

Our esteemed and respected fellow-citizen, Frank Tripp, Sr., commenced learning his trade with honest old Abe, and can, no doubt, give many entertaining accounts of his humorous side. About twenty-five years ago, Trager and his family removed to Iowa, and we understand he is still living; if he is, he is one of the men we would travel a hundred miles on foot to see.

The two Latin scholars we had - an Irish schoolmaster and an old French doctor - were struck with the euphony of this high-sounding word, and flew to Webster's Unabridged for consolation; but Squire Webster failing to anticipate the intellectual grasp which made the title of Amidelphian possible, contented himself with " Delphian," and left poor Ami out in the cold. W^here Ami could have been when Noah was getting up his interesting catalogue, was suggested during the controversy by one of our literati, who said he didn't know, but thought the Ami we weie looking for might be found in

Chicago picking rags. One or two crossed-eyed imbibers of belles-lettres just squatted on their knees and held their sides, when a flaming poster announced that "the Amidelphian Society of Upper Sandusky would jerk dramatic thunder from a grand old English Tragedy, which had charmed as well as thrilled the crown-heads of three or four dozen continents," or words to that effect. Meantime, while the critics were making merry over a name that was apparently without name, because lexicographers had failed to find fair Ami among the Latin I'oots and Greek derivatives in time for the approaching exhibition, the amateur histrionic talent of Upper Sandusky were sweating at rehearsal for the gi*and debut that was to take place in Ayres' Big Brick. Capt. Ayres had just erected the brick block which now stands opposite the court house, and it was in this building, before completed, that the Amidelphian Society spread its wings for fame.

The play selected was an English standard, entitled "Young Norval," and the several characters were assumed by Miss Mattie Ayres, Miss Rumina Ayres, Miss Cal. Doolittle, Isaac Newton Ayres, Frank Hub?r, Wean Beals, Howell Morrison, Charles Bagley, Charles Robins and the Sketcher. Scenic designer and toucher-off of calcium lights, Prof. Mikado, on a visit from Tiffin. Music by the band, which M^as composed of William Ayres, Deacon McGill and James G. Roberts. And couldn't they play. We shall never hear their like again. Ayres was all melody; Deacon came in with his soulstirring " Bear's Trot," and Roberts with that clarionet filled you with feelings that drew forth glimpses of the gates ajar. Col. Jont. Ayres lent his able assistance in arranging the play, and the programmes were printed by an imp who scoured tails in the old Pioneer office.

On the opening night the house was packed; a dozen yards of calico rolled up and the play commenced. The scene unfolded was one never to be forgotten. It was the grand audience room of a King, in which a flourbarrel painted yellow formed T.he throne, and a circle of tin the insignia of royalty. The assemblage was spell-bound with admiration, and the play moved on. At last the stellar attraction waltzed in, and came very nearly landing on his ear, but struck an attitude before the King and yelled:

Me fa-ther feeds his flock - a fru-gi-al swain, . Whose only care was to pr )tect his herd, And keep his unly boy. myself, at home, To run the peanut ?tand. But I had hi'ard of battles, and y^ u bet, I stole a doUnr frou the old man and left; And if you want anything out of me, old rooster. Just come down out of that flour-barrel "

Young Norval, who represented a Scottish peasant, was in reality a changeling and the heir of a king; hence he was dressed in a waist of blue paper muslin, with pantaloons to match. He looked lovely in low neck and short sleeves, and the brass ring borrowed for his left hand completed the costume. He just felt big enough to square himself at Edwin Forest, but he didn't. The rest of the company looked handsome in conventional dramatics, and carried off the applause and several baskets of bouquets, which were thrown upon the stage by fellows in the pit. whom Col. Jont. Ayres had hired for the occasion.

Miss Mattie Ayres, a very beautiful and accomplished young lady, and a great favorite with our people, impersonated Lady Montague with rare ability, and won the honors of the society.

markable histrionic talent. She is now the wife of Hon. John McClure, of Little Rock, Ark., and one of the most accomplished ladies in the South.

There's a young man in town who revels in the tragic name of Frank Edwin, whom many of our people have seen fit to compliment for rare talent in a dramatic way, but he "wasn't a patching" to his illustrious sire as the noble Young Norval of early days, in low neck and short sleeves.

The Amidelphians repeated their tragedy to another crowded house, and then disbanded. Only two of that remarkable society remain as citizens of Upper Sandusky. The others are scattered - several of them sleeping the sleep that knows no waking.

Of the orchestra, William Ayres and Deacon McGill have passed over the river, leaving behind the tenderest feelings of respect. Mr. Roberts is still here, and one of our honored and amiable citizens. Does he still play the clarionet? Well, no - he's entirely too healthy. Years ago he gave his clarionet to Maj. Sears, and this loved instrument, together with the Bible kissed by our sons of Malta, and a Confederate dollar bill, are resting in the Major's museum as relics of by-gone glory. And Col. Ayres - grand and glorious Jont. ; he never gets an hour older, and is still the genial and lively gentleman he was forty years ago - always ready to get up a dance, or take his place behind the scenes.

Callie Doolittle, a charming girl, is now out West, happily married to a prosperous Yankee by the name of O'Brien, and the mother of several beautiful children.

Isaac Newton Ayres, one of the brightest young men Upper Sandusky ever produced, died in the bloom of manhood, when his paths were full of promise, and his sacred dust now lies in a distant State, where the troubled Missouri, in its onward flow to the Gulf, sings a requiem for the departed.

Frank Huber, another brilliant fellow, always sparkling with wit and the life of his young circle, met death at an early age and was conquered. And so of poor Howell Morrison, who lived but a short year to survive the glory of Amidelphian honors. Wean Beals always good-looking and the Beau Brummel of those times, is a distinguished politician in Indiana, making his residence at Bourbon. A Whig then, was Wean; but now a Democrat and a prominent county official.

And Charley Bagley - good old-fashioned Charley Bagley - with almost the brains of Webster and the genius of Franklin, it remained for him - Bagley- -to go through the trials and tribulations of life, and to find happiness in being much married and the father of a numerous family. He went to Carlo, III., where the rivers meet, and where mosquitoes blockade that American delta against the tide of emigration; but as Charley was mosquito-proof, he got fat on turtle soup and married a widow with six children. The lapse of a single decade brought him a half dozen more; and then death threw its pall over his cherished wife. In this bereavement we can see that great sympathetic heart wrung almost to the verge of suicide, but like all other widowers, he waltzed around with a crape on his hat, until he found an old maid who was willing to mother a lot of secondhand children with the prospect of adding to the stock as years advanced. This last enterprise yielded six more Bagleys - my God! Charley still lives, and a year ago, he sent the sketcher a photograph of himself and family, and says he, " dear Bob, I would have sent this months ago, but I was waiting for the eighteenth! Observe how sweetly my little Ami toys with her pet alligator, while Delphian is tugging at its tail; and that two hundredpounder on the left, with the bronze jewelry, is named 'Mattie,' in honor

The Exodus

In 1848, the news came from the newly discovered El Dorado, that mountains of silver and valleys ot gold were lying around loose, and that anybody with a mule and cart and a barrel of whisky could become a millionaire in a few days. All he had to do was to treat the natives, and haul away the metal. A few nuggets of gold were shown to our citizens by a fellow who strutted our streets with a watch chain made of grizzly teeth, and that settled it. Bill Giles offered to sell or give away his printinc^ office; old Andy Mcllvain pulled down the blinds of the only aristocratic hotel we had; and other of our people refused their usual meals and tossed their better halves out of bed in wrestling with nightmares that were dropping down upon them whole tons of precious gold. They had it bad, and soon a party was formed to cross the plains. Bill Giles loaned the Pioneer office to his brother, Lige and Josiah Smith, and donned the dress and accouterments of a fighting guerrilla. He had Deacon McGill forge him three or four bowie knives out of rat-tail files, and with a revolutionary musket and a pocket cannon he announced his readiness to drive an ox-team or do the cooking on buffalo chips. Old Andy Mcllvain wrapped himself in a blanket and said he was ready to ride in that ox- team and demolish the provender. Also waiting to join the caravan were Col. Aaron Lyle, William Mcllvain, Swayne Mcllvain and several others whose names we cannot call to mind, including a sprightly nigger, named Buck, who had been raised by the Garrets. This Buck, with the strength of Hercules, was active as a cat, and as saucy as he was active. A short distance out on the plains Buck was found with a hole through his head, and consequently it was supposed that he died suddenly for want of breath, but as it was only one nigger less for grizzly feed, the party moved on. Before the plains were overcome, poor Bill Mcllvain, and that large generous hearted fellow. Col. Lyle, who was seeking health instead of gold, surrendered to the pale horse and his rider, and left their bones on the desert wastes of the Great West.

Bill Mcllvain was a promising young man, about to enter the law, but a blighted love for one who also felt the bitterness of the shock, made him reckless to do and dare, and his sad fate was more the result of piercintr heart-throbs than the wreck of health from exposure. °

Col. Lyle was a brilliant young lawyer, who came here from Lancaster, Ohio, with the Beerys; his long and severe application while a student had impaired his health, and the hectic flush that mingled with his smiles and good humor, was a warning which thrilled his friends with the gravest apprehensions. It was death to remain; an overland trip might revive a shattered constitution, and still make life the dream of his ambition; but hope m its struggle with disease soon ended in the death of that grand, good fellow, who was loved and esteemed by all our citizens.

Swayne Mcllvain, after an experience of several weeks on the plains, got scared at a moccasin track, and took the first balloon for Sandusky. He denied the soft impeachment, giving as a reason for his sudden reappearance, "that father thought he had better go home and prepare a cave or two for the nuggets."

McTlvain, who had never done anything in his life but bow ta fellow-citizens from a hotel door, commencing at the American in Columbus, and ending with a hoiise at Upper Sandusky, didn't believe in exercising the pick and shovel; but he would go into a hay speculation with Bill Giles, and he did. Andy got the profits, and Bill got the hay. Bill has still some of that crop on hand, and will get up on a fence and swear till the sulphur oozes down into his boots every time he passes a hay stack. After Bill had killed his Ingin, fought a grizzly, and started and published two papers in California, he returned to Upper Sandusky and resumed publication of the Pioneer.

Others, from time to time, left for the Golden State, among them our genial and popular friend, William Bearinger. During the first excitement Mr. Bearinger had no idea of leaving his then prosperous business for allurements in the apparent verdure of far-off hills, but a dream unsettled his mind. He dreamed that he was in the heart of the Rockies, and was moving along gracefully on a pair of six-foot 'snow shoes, when all at once he came to a very stylish and fashionable gulch. He looked over the declivity and saw that he could slide down with comparative ease, and he did. At the bottom there was a lump of gold that he could just raise a little by straining several of his left ribs, and he gave them a twist. To carry it up the incline on snow shoes was impossible, and in the act of shouting for help, he woke up. He could still see, however, the beautiful gulch, the huge lump of gold at its bottom, and the trees all around which he had blazed to mark the spot. He goes to Dr. McConnell, tells him his dream, and asks for advice. " Go, by all means, sir," said the doctor, "examine every hole in the Rockies; be sure you don't miss a gulch; go sir, for if you don't, that lump of gold will haunt you forever." So William started for the golden shore by way of the gulches, and found the identical spot that appeared to him in his dream. In a year or two he returned well pleased over his trip, with a sly wink that it had been agreeably successful. Everybody thought he had that gold lump, and they would examine his left ribs to see if they were in a twist from heavy lifting, and would scratch around his shop at night to see where he had hid it, and would try to call William out on heavy articles; about how miich a man could lift you know, without affecting the lower part of his thorax, and how much he couldn't, perhaps; and one fellow would swfear that no hunk of gold that ever was born would weigh 200 pounds; and that he would like to see the chunk of gold that he couldn't hold out at arm's length, and he would bet William $50 that California wasn't much of a place for big lumps of gold anyhow, and he never would believe some of them stories until he saw the nuggets." And then William would smile so aggravatingly, and tell the Vjoys " to not be in a hurry - 'twasn't late yet," and then he would go to the shop window, and look out uneasily, as if he had something hid near the bark pile, while the boys would shy around on the other side of the fence and look for fresh dirt. So whether William's dream was ever realized is not known to this day. One thing is certain, he has never been out of humor since he returned from California, and the sketcher still thinks that William found that monster nugget; that he has it hidden under some barn, and as soon as two or three more of our old fellows die, he'll dig it out and buy the town.

with amusing scenes connected with the initiation of Hon. R. McKelly, James G. Roberts, Col. S. H. Hunt, Gen. Kirby, Dr. Henderson, Dr. J. M. Rhoads, William Marlow, and other prominent parties, and will particularly indicate at what point in the ceremony these gentlemen were unable to " hold their oats. " Rich ? Well, you can just bet. Nothing but a thousand dollar check will prevent the calamity.]

John N. Eeed

A pleasing character of our olden times was John N. Reed. He was ona of the men designed by nature to be accommodating. Nothing pleased John N. so well as to render his neighbor a service. He was truly a good old man, living one day with the hope of existing the next; looking upon futurity as so much space to enjoy life, and picking up what little jobs of painting that were strewed along his eventful pathway. John N. always wore a smile upon his face, unless a tender chord of sympathy was touched, and then a tear would glisten in that benevolent eye, weeping for every misfortune but his own. He filled his circle of usefulness well, but gained little beyond the pleasure it afforded him. God made this class of men, and it was part of His infinite wisdom.

At the sick bed he was a ministering angel, rich in words of encouragement, with the tender care of a mother's gentle hand. He sought no reward in caring for those who found comfort in his presence, and when death came, his big heart would share in the distress of bereaved friends. The world may have called John N. a thriftless fellow, but how barren it would be of kindly offices if such men did not exist. It takes a variety of people to form a world, and if the John N.'s had never risen to the surface, Earth, with all its Solomons and its several Cleopatras, would have been a failure.

John N. dropped into Upper Sandusky from Columbiana County, and had the honor of kicking out of his paint shop Gen. Morgan and Clement L. Vallandigham; for, although John was goodness itself, he would sometimes get mad when the little Morgans and Vallandighams would steal his putty to make marbles, sprinkle sand in his paint, and put a bur in his pantaloons where it would scratch the most good. But notwithstanding all this, John N. would frequently say that George and Val. were the brightest little fellows he ever saw, always sleeping with one eye open to study up some devilment.

As John N. and Bill Giles were from the same town, and as Bill was another of the bad little boys who assisted George and Val. in their depredations against the paint shop, the Pioneer office was John N.'s usual place of resort, and he and Bill would have it for hours in discussing old times. Bill couldn't think of, speak of, or suggest anything about New Li.sbon or its people that wasn't perfectly familiar to John N. He was right on the spot when all the interesting incidents occurred, and helped to lay out the wounded, so to speak, if any laying out were necessary as a part of the recital. And when Bill inquired if he remembered the time when Lafayette quartered his troops on the common south of town, John N. was in raptures. "Didn't he? Oh, William, how you do revive old memories! Can I ever forget it! Did you never hear of me and Lafe going across the bridge to old Kate's, and whipping an Englishman with a wart on his nose for calling Gen. Washington a coward?" "Washington a coward," says I, " who fit the battle of Waterloo? And with that I knocked the Englishman into fragments; and the last I saw of Lafe, he was sweeping up the pieces for dog feed. Yes, William, I was a pretty active young man - a good deal

John N, was at one time our honored coroner. He presided with tlie dignity of true Statesmanship; and when a dead body was found, with the glamour of violence casting its witchery over the ghastly sight, John N. was among the stars, surrounded by a halo of hallelujahs, with angelic wings sprouting out from all parts of his body. Old, old was John, but a stiff unknown in death, with the mystery of terrible incidents, threw over him the enchanting spell of active youth, and he was everywhere in a minute, commanding reverence and consideration in the name of the law!

One beautiful Sabbath morning, the news came that a child was found in the river, toying with the ripples, a ghastly corpse! This intelligence illumined the serene countenance of the old coroner, and before his toilet was made, he was at the banks of the Lower Ford, peering into its crystal depths for the misery which sprinkles life with so many sorrowful accounts. He saw it - a dead babe! Very small, thought the Coroner, yet large enough to contain a human soul! It had scarcely caught a gleam of the beautiful sunlight, ere the pallor of death unfolded the glimpses of another world. " Oh, a beautiful babe," said the Coroner, "and must I, must I, in my old age, d - n these careless girls, who steal into the balmy air at night to feast upon the deceptive watermelon." He gloated over the beautiful lineaments of the miniature corpse, as it glinted in the ripples and sunbeams, deploring the depravity of human nature when misfortune overtakes the wayward, every now and then casting a suspicious glance over the crowd of men to see if he co\ild detect a resemblance. Presently, the dead remains were fished to shore under the artistic skill of the old Coroner. His delight was only equaled by his enthusiasm; and when some one suggested that it was hairy and very like a cat, his indignation knew no bounds. You could see by the beads of sweat that scintillated with prismatic power from his anxious and agitated brow that he was suffering the pangs of a terrible disappointment, but before he would give in, he appealed to the boys to look around among the bushes for a fur-coated Australian belle, who had broken loose from a sideshow, and put in the balance of the season in fooling around a camp-meeting. By this time, it was very apparent that the corpse was an unfortunate Maltese of tender growth which rude hands had cast into the river. For many days after, the boys would mew at the Coroner, but the graceful old man bore it all with the resignation^of a martyr, frequently inviting them to the Blue Hall Corner for refreshments.

The old man, however, never fully recovered from this cat-astrophy, and it was ever after one of the clouds which shrouded his usual happy disposition.

In addition to being Coroner, he held for years the position of courtcrier, and took a pleasurable delight in calling that body to order. It was generally in a sonorous voice of great volume: "Hear he, hear ye, hear ye, the Court of Common Pleas is now in session. Those who have causes to present, will now come forwai'd and present them, and defendants must be in readiness at the call of the Judge. Lawyers may try their goodlooking divorce cases in the back room. At a pleasant wink, Col. Kirby will vacate the office and go across the street to see a man."

John N. would do without his meals most any time to be on hand to open and close the sessions of court. The position seemed to exalt his nature, and to miss one of these opportunities was to him a source of the deepest distress. One afternoon when the old gentleman was enjoying a com- fortable snooze, and the court and counsel were busily engaged in considering an interesting point in evidence, a wag tapped John N. on the i^houlder and told him it was time to adjourn court. He immediately sprang to his feet, and rubbing his eyes, yelled at the top of his voice "Hear ye, hear ye, hear ye, the covirt" - bat the balance of the cry was lost in an outburst of laughter in which the court and bar joined with a hearty zest. It was the most mortifying blow that ever befell John N., and it took him four hours to explain to Judge Bo wen the cause of his drowsiness and at what particular point in his dream the impudent fellow tapped him u.pon the shoulder. The Judge intimated that he might go this time, but if he ever indulged in such another disturbance there would be a dead court crier.

John N. remained court crier until the rebellion broke out, when he went into the service as body-guard to Col. McCutchen. He came back flush with honors and took up his residence at Kirby where he died a few years after. He was a good old man who had a feeling of friendship for everybody, and against whom no one ever uttered a harsh word.

[Note - Sketch, No. 211, by request, contains a graphic account of Rappe's Wagon Trade with the Indian - " Maybe Canton, maybe no Canton - heap black stripe on hub, dam lie - fool Ingin." McGregor, of the Stark County Democrat, has offered a thousand dollars for the exclusive right to publish this sketch, but Mack is wasting his spirit of enterprise, as this ''American Author" writes only for The Union.]

Our First Constable

Faded, perhaps, from the memory of most of our people, is the joviaj face of one, who was somewhat conspicuous here in early days. lie was dressed in the brief authority of Constable, and one of the first that honored the township of Crane. He was a small man, a little stooped in the shoulders, with a red face that sported a sharp nose, and a pair of eyes that winked continually an assumption of knowledge on all points and phases connected with his official duties. He could write his name, as a parrot asks for a cracker, and further in the routine of educational exploits he could do but little; what he lacked in early advantages was more than made up in that peculiar cunning which follows the van of adventure, and what he did not know he never hesitated to assume, trusting to luck and that genius which enables nature to overcome obstacles. He was a pleasant fellow, so gifted in his habits, that he he could render the asperities of his authority with such a degree of suavity, that you could lose your last cow, by the virtue and force of a remorseless execution, and yet feel a pleasurable delight in his presence. When those impenetrable eyes were not winking, they were weeping, not over the trials and vicissitudes of his own life, but over the unpleasantness of his position in being compelled to oppress his neighbor and fellow-citizen; yet, he always made it a point to add a score of mileage to his costs to cover any little discrepancy his benevolent nature may have overlooked in its struggle with sympathy. Was he popular? There were few so well and pleasingly favored; and had he remained here a hundred years, and vacillated to all points of the political compass, he would still have ornamented our little writs of process with " S. Riggins, Constable."

He was familiarly called "Sam," and seemed to relish this simple attachment to his name, although his official signature was never failing in the inevitable " S." He seemed to take peculiar pride in that twisted capital, which he painted rather than wrote, allowing the Riggins to take care of itself. His ambition in the science of chirography commenced and ended with the capital "S." The Riggins was a mere pastime of a few hieroglyphics.

Natiarally, one of Sam's exultant disposition created in many a desire to put it to the test. He was knovvn to be alert in everything that came under his notice, or to his knowledge by virtue of his official position, so one night, a messenger, white with excitement, informed him, in a voice choked with consternation, that a murder had been committed at Allen Sane's grocery; that the ghastly corpse was still dripping with blood, and that the murderer armed with a corn-cutter was standing over the inanimate form, defying arrest. Did Samuel pale before this picture of desperation, and complain of an uneasiness below his vest? Nothing of the kind. He immediately jumped into his boots and was flying for the scene of carnage before he had arranged his toilet. The messenger who carried his coat while Sam was fooling with his shirt collar abstracted his revolver and replaced it with a corn-cob. Sam threw on his coat as he came to Sane's door, and bursting in, saw a sight that was calculated to freeze the blood of anv ordinary mortal. The x'uffian with a corn-cutter dripping with blood was still brandishing it over the prostrate body of his victim, and threatening death to any one who came within reach. Sam placed himself before the murderer, and with the power vested in him by the statutes in such case made and provided, demanded a surrender in the name of the State of Ohio. "The State of Ohio be d - d," said the murderer, making a bloody thrust at the Constable. At this breach of respect for an officer of the law, Sam pulled his revolver to find it a corn-cob! Here was a predicament that the Constable had not contemplated. He was defenseless before an infuriated outlaw, armed with a corn-cutter, and with one victim already dead at his feet! Bu.t Sam hesitated at nothing. He flew at the giant, grasped his sturdy right arm, and in a short struggle, wrenched the weapon from his hand. Sam was now the victor and radiant with triumph. The murderer must strip and submit to a search under the uplifted corn-cutter, which Sam now flourished over his head. To this demand, the murderer quietly submitted, when about 250 pounds of Allen Sane tumbled out of the disguise. By this time. Red Thread, who was playing corpse on the floor, got up and made for the long-necked bottle, that served as a kind of free lunch during preparations for this little drama which was " to take in, do up. and demolish the Constable. " In Sam, however, they had caught a tartar. He had demonstrated that there was no lacking of pluck, even in a CouRtable; and if it hadn't been for the happy exchange, in which a corncob took the place of Sam's revolver, there might have been a very funny dead man with a very solemn funeral.

Allen was graceful enough to acknowledge that he was disappointed, alid that he felt it his duty to set it up for the boys whenever Sam should order it.

You see, gentle reader, it was all made up to "scare Sam out of his boots," because Sam, when a little full, would sometimes boast of his courage, and how he brought this and that fellow to time when disposed to be a little ugly. Allen Sane, to have some fan and to "take the conceit out of Sam," submitted to the decorative art and was patched up to repre sent a formidable specimen of the plug-ugly. He induced Red Thread to play the part of a pleasant corpse while the fun was going on, and also called in a number of the boys to witness Sam's terror and complete overthrow when he should fall into the trap. The hilarious Sane just doubled up with laughter in assuring the boys that he would frighten the little devil so he couldn't wink for a month. But how transitory are all the blissful dreams of life. Sam wouldn't scare worth a cent, but, as the sequel shows, came off with flying colors, and Allen never heard the last of that bloody murderer who was captured by one little man, whose only weapon was a corn cob.

[Note - Correspondent - Yes, we will have a pleasant sketch of Elliot Long, which will consist of a good deal of turtle soup; but we have about fifteen years of trouble to prodiice before we arrive at the charm of three.

One of our best sketches is Aleck Little's introduction of George Depler to a belle of Crawfordsville, at one of the grand dances held in that town in early days. At thin introduction, George got fighting mad, and threatened to annihilate Aleck, but Aleck told him to not disturb his linen, as he had given him a big send-off, for the ladies would now have confidence in his ability.

The Little French Doctor

A new town is usually a nucleus around which gather the curiosities in human life. It is one of earth's savory spots that attract moth as well as genius and enterprise. The Mieawbers are there for something to turn up, moving pleasantly among those stimulated by a laudable ambition. Thirtyseven years ago. Upper Sandusky was a new town, and, like all other new towns, its three or four hundred inhabitants was the result of great expectation upon the part of a variety of people, including one colored man who still remains with us in the person of Uncle Archy. The professions are always gracefully represented in new towns. Where there is an appearance of law. there is a profusion of lawyers; then come the physician, the undertaker and the politician. While Messrs. Mott, McKelly, Sears, Kirby and a singular looking mixture of nature and Blackstone by the name of Wier represented the law, Drs. McConnell, Ayres, Ferris, Watson and Hartz gave their skill and attention to the afflicted. Valentine & DeLong made our coffins, and any teamster for $1 would haul out the dead. We indulged in no parade of hearse and plumage, in a force of spangled pall-bearers and a retinue of hired carriages.* In those days it was an expensive luxury to die. You could go off with a $10 estate, with the quiet and beatific assurance that the boys would plant you in handsome style But what a change! To die now almost shatters a fortune, leaving the bereaved friends doubly afflicted. So expensive has this funeral business become that three or four of our old inhabitants utterly refuse to die, adding largely to the gray hairs of their prospective heirs, who have been waiting and watching so many years on the ragged edge of hope and despair. In talking to an old friend lately, he said: "Do you know, Bob, that it costs from 1800 to a $1,000 for a fellow to die these days." " So much!" exclaimed the sketcher. " Yes, all of it, and I'll see them d - d first. I would have passed in my

* The first hearse made its appearance in Upper Sandusky some time in the year 1851. It was the enterprise of B. SuUiger, who came after Valentine & DeLong, to make our resurrection outfits. This hearse was fashioned a little after John Gary's chicken wagon, only the sides were closed with a curtain of black muslin, to give it the appearance of a catafalque, as it were. We think death was stripped of a good deal of its gloom after SuUiger launched his hearse. It was hauled by one horse, produced, not unfrequently, by the party who furnished the corpse, and as a usual thing nothing occurred to mar the harmony of the occasion. For the times, the SuUiger hearse served its purpose well, and reflected upon that tine old quiet gentleman considerable credit; but it would be a sorrowful looking attait in contrast with the elegant and costly^ yet tearful, equipages which now bear the remains of loved ones to our beautiful city of the dead.

Among the peculiar people of our new town was Hartz, the little French doctor. He was a very small man, so distinctively French in his nature and appearance that he smelt of Paris. He was precise in his dress, and, while eschewing everything American, was studious, even severe, in preserving all the customs of his native land; hence an immaculate frilled shirt always bloomed beneath a beaver cap, which he wore winter and summer, and when the weather would permit, an elegant pelisse, upon which connoisseurs of the art had expended their taste and skill. It was very evident that the doctor had seen better days, and that his sojourn in America, if not an experiment, was the result of those social or political upheavals so common in France during the unsettled reign of Louis Philippe. He had a beautiful wife, and a still more beautiful daughter, who gave the most pleasing indications of culture and refinement. In appearance they reflected the fastidiousness of the husband and father, yet with that delicate shading which lends a charm to the softer sex.

Like other great men, Dr. Hartz had his failing. He would get drunk. Not every day, but every evening, and his favorite place of resort was the Blue Ball Corner. With French enthusiasm he always carried a revolver and a dagger cane, which he never exercised nor threatened to use. yet his impulsive nature was full of dangerous apprehensions. At all events, when the boys played a trick on the Doctor they were mindful of first securing his cane and fire-arms. The Doctor's greatest delight was to get with a small party around a table, drink wine and talk of his beloved France. He would toy with his wine, describing many graceful circles with the glass to give a pleasing embellishment to his conversation, always mingling a flow of good French to get oflf a supply of bad English. What he could not clearly enunciate by a mixture of both languages he would make impressive, or at least amusing, by a system of pantomine that was irresistible.

One night, when the Doctor was full, and in that high state of inebriation where the sorrows and anxieties of earth roll on, and leave the subject in a grateful state of semi-forgetfulness, he was informed that a patient at the point of death needed his attention. True to his professional instinct, although drunk, he manifested a desire to go, and was led to the death bed of a fellow mortal. The boys had a fellow in bed to represent a very sick . man, and he was tossing the clothes around with an appearance of agcmy. Drunk as the Doctor was, he took in the situation, and with his peculiar French dignity, examined the "sufferer" very critically, and with apparent candor. The boys were " tickled to death" at seeing the little Doctor so terribly fooled, and the patient was several times on the brink of bursting into a fit of laughter. The Doctor took no notice of this levity, but ordered a huge mustard plaster. The kind and anxious attendants, however, had no idea of furnishing material for this appliance. When they went into a side room apparently to consult, but in fact to give vent to their pent-up laughter, they heard the shrill cry of " murder" issue from the sick man's room. Thunderstruck they rushed in and behold! The Doctor was on the bed, holding the patient down with one hand, and snapping a lance at him with the other. When pulled off the bed, and asked for an explanation, the Doctor said: "Zee patient is on zee verge of suppuration, and zee bad blood must come out. It's zee worse case of zee dam fool, and phlebotomee in zee fool case is triumph of zeemee-de-sin profesh-ong. " By this time, the patient was yelling and waltzing around the room, with his back covered with blood, oozing from a dozen punctures made by the Doctor's lance. The sellers were sold, and to keep this intelligence from McCoy, of the Blue Ball, they did not dare to utter a word of complaint against the Doctor for his merciless use of the lance upon their improvised patient. They cautioned the Doctor to say nothing about it, and he should have a half dozen of his favorite wine. So after plastering up the back of their patient, they all went down to the Blue Ball and ordered the wine. The Doctor was very convivial, and drank until his little eyes lost their luster. When he started home, 'Lish McCurdy was on hand with his rope, which he tied across the pavement every half square to trip up and throw the Doctor to hear him swear in broken French.

He was a man of more than ordinary intellect, well skilled in his profession, and would have been successful and prosperous had not his besetting infirmity overcome him.

He tried to become a permanent resident by building the wide, peculiarly-shaped brick structure, which remained for years on the site now occupied by John H. Junkin, and which he called his Cote de Par-ee. Here he lived with his beautiful wife and daughter, who suffered the mortification of his drunken debauches, yet murmured not in any sign of outward rebuke. He was always the husband and father and treated with the tenderest feelings of respect. He was all they had of the better days which filled life with emotions of pleasure, and in him they could still see a soul adorned amid the wreck and sorrows of human frailty.

After a few years' residence here the Doctor as mysteriously disappeared as he rose to the surface - another bubble on the great ocean of life, "a moment white, then lost forever."

The Major

We tip our beaver, this week, to Maj. Anthony Bowsher. The old gentleman is still living, and in good enough health to not tolerate any foolishness, consequently the sketcher will not permit his imagination to make any of its usual flights. The Major is a gentleman who has dealt largely in experience, and has had his share of earth's pleasures and vicissitudes. From early years to comparative old age, he was active and energetic, willing to do anything in the line of work or trade. He came to this county from Circleville, Ohio, a short time before Jackson waH elected President, and had the honor of casting his first vote for that old hero. Thrown upon his own resources when quite young, he had no opportunity to attend school, and his education, so far as it concei'ned books, was entirely neglected. The only part of the alphabet that looked familiar to him was the letter X, which meant Anthony Bowsher when he went bail on a sale note and got stuck.

The Major settled on the plains, south of this city, at a point which still bears his name. He labored hard until he accumulated sufficient means to start a country store, which contained everything you could think of. including the post ofiice and a bar, where spirits could be revived at three cents a smile. The Major did a good business, and notwithstanding he could neither read nor write nor cipher, he had remarkable success. A good deal of credit was done in those days, and it used to perplex the Major considerably to keep run of the things "got on tick." His manner of book-

One day old Smith came in "dam mad" and wanted to settle. This anxiety was caused by the Major sending word a few days before, " that if he didn't come in and pay up, he'd whale h - 1 out of him." Smith, white with rage, was on hand and demanded his account. The Major reached down into an old boot and pulled out a shingle upon which he kept the score of the much agitated Smith. The first charge was a long mark with two prongs, and Smith acknowledged a pitchfork; another attempt at design convinced Smith that he had got a pair of shoes, two drinks and a bottle of paregoric. They were getting along well on settlement until the shingle showed a large, symmetrically-drawn circle, which Major insisted was a cheese. Here Smith's venom bubbled over, and accused the Major of an attempt to swindle him. He never had a cheese in his house. They never ate cheese. His family would starve alongside a cheese factory, so great was their aversion to that article of indigestible food. The Major was highly indignant that any member of the contemptible Smith family would dispute his books, or rather his shingle; and if Smith didn't shut his flytrap he would lead him out by the eye-brow. By the time a crowd had gathered in to prevent bloodshed, the Major doubled up with laughter. "I've got it," says he. "Why, Smith, it's a grindstone. I forgot to put a hole in it." Of course. Smith recollected the grindstone, and was well pleased that the controversy ended so happily. He advised the Major, however, to be more particular with his "double entry" hereafter when he opened a new set of shingles. In the Major's way of keeping accounts, while a large circle stood for cheese, a similar circle with a dot in the center represented a grindstone. In this instance he had neglpcted the dot, and hence the confusion at this settlement. Smith also objected to the caricature the Major had drawn to designate the debtor. He declared the ears were too long, and he'd be d - d if he had a turned-up nose and a sore heel.

The Major, in his day, was a general favorite, noted for his benevolence as well as for his many sterling business qualities. Nature had done a great deal for the Major, and with ])roper advantages he might have advanced to almost any position in society. He was always willing to promote any good calling, or get up a horse race, and gave freely of his means to support chui'ches and schoolhonses.

One da}- INIrs. B. informed the Major that a preacher would be there for dinner; that he should be on his good behavior; talk nice and pious, and above all to keep from swearing in the good man's presence; all of which the Major promised faithfully. He said he would just make that preacher believe he was a peddler from Jerusalem with a grip-sack full of tracts and holy water. " Bet'yer life, mam, you won't be ashamed of your darling this time." The preacher came, an elegant dinner was spread, and the Major, with the dignity of a statesman, took his seat at the table. He was all smiles and talked his prettiest, frequently calling the minister 'Squire, sometimes Judge, and once or twice he ornamented that follower of the Lamb with the title of Genei'al. He was getting along splendidly, and his good wife was in raptures. The Major was pleasingly congratulating himself that his true sphere in life was pious and refined company, when the minister asked him "if there were any deer in this part of the country." At last he took the Major unawares, and, all excitement, his response was^ "Why, J s C- 1, man, the woods are full of them!" Here tottered and fell the beautiful edifice he had ei-ected for wife and minister. The Major's chagrin, the crushing disappointment of his wife, and the surprise and consternation of the minister over this little mishap formed a tableau unapproachable in its intensity, throbbing and palpitating with those peculiar feelings which find a struggle between irresistible smiles and tears. But was he to blame? In unguarded moments nature will break out, no matter how well fortified with good intentions.

In appearance, the Major looked like a hero. He had a splendid physique, straight as an arrow, with a pair of shoulders that supported a head that might have been mistaken for the author of "give me liberty or give me death," but it never was. Forty years ago the Major's person was a matter of remark, as it indicated considerable prominence, and the result was. when abroad, he was sure to attract the notice of strangers. He frequently visited Columbus on business, making the trip on an Indian pony, which was the next best thing to a steam railway. He always stopped at the Neil, and had picked up an intimate acquaintace with old Modecai Bartley, then Governor of the State. One day at dinner, while the two were waiting to be served, the Major threw himself back in his chair and spread a newspaper before him with all the grace and dignity of a French savant. Any one coming in at that moment would certainly have taken him for the Governor, but he wasn't. After a good many guests had assembled around the table, the Major, who couldn't read, had accidentally got his paper upside down, and catching a glimpse of some marine advertisements embellished with small cuts of steamers, became very much excited and exclaimed: "Whew! By the holy Moses, there's been a h - 1 of a storm on the lake. The ships are all upside down, and the dam things are leaking. This brought Mordicai to his feet, and looking over the Major's shoulder saw the difiiculty. " He informed the Major that he held his paper wrong side up! The Major dropped to it immediately, and with his natural cvinning remarked: "All in fun, Gov'ner; only trying to get up a little laugh for that one-eyed Senator at the other end of the table."

The Major lived many years in this place, and did business in a little log shanty, first opposite the old log tavern, and then on the site now occupied by Mr. Moody. For the last thirty years, he has resided in Carey, surrounded by a large circle of warm friends. He has been a widower a long time, making home with his daughter. He is still full of the old humor, and carries a cane, on which is tied a dozen or two specimens of calico; and when interrogated on this point, smilingly replies, that they are samples of the several widows who of late years have been persuasively troublesome; but he always has room on his cane for one more

The Major is still a very interesting old gentleman and delights in rehearsing old times on the plains. His account of a fimeral at Bowsherville strips death of its solemnity, but the story doesn't pan out well unless the Major relates it.* He often speaks of being the architect of the two richest

*The subject of this luneral was Abe Roseberry. His wife preceded him to the other shore. Abe put in all his spare time in drinking whii-ky, which he drew from his own barrel and drank out of a tin cup. His wife was an invalid, looking and hoping for death every moment; not that she was weary of life or Abe, but of the wreck and pangs ot disease. Abe loved his wife, and hearing she was about to die, griefstricken, he grabbed his tin, drew it full of whisky, and rushing into the sick room, muttered in broken sobs: -' Here, Debby, let's take one last drink together. You have always been kind to me, Debby - drink ! " The poor woman was dead, yet her glazed eyes seemed to have a tender smile for him. Crushed in the presence of death, the wild and unguarded nature gave way, and the wretched husband sank senseless to the floor. After the death of his wile, Abe made a will, containing an item, that a barrel of whisky and a tub of honey should be appropriated for his friends, and that they should not bury him until the whisky and honey'were exhausted. A short time after, Abe died; the remains were laid out in state, and for three days and nights his friends waked the corpse, striving to get away the whisky and honey in accoidance with the will. When the last tinful was passed around, the remains were placed in a wagon, and the march to the grave commenced. The mourners were a little top-heavy, yet the pangs of grief were men in the county, and that their remarkable advance to social and financial eminence was all due to his Christian advice and example. Although the Major's expletives were usually steeped in sulphur and would go oft' with the fury of several sky-rockets, he never permitted either of the Davids to indulge in the smallest cuss word; and to this day they are shocked at the slightest semblance to profanity. Even mill-dam was objectionable to one of them, and tenants were ordered to call it "water-stop" when his shadow rested upon the mill.

The Major is now resting under the weight of ninety years, yet still able to move among his friends, and has promised a visit to Upper Sandusky in a few days. Let every one give the old gentleman a hearty welcome.

The First Singing School

There are two professions which seem to have a sympathetic alliance. The inspiration of one entwines gracefully with the merits of the other. It is keeping race horses in summer and teaching singing school in winter. It i-equires the same degree of talent and lung power, and the profits are not so much to be considered as the pleasure and gratification of the employment.

In the fall of 1846, a young gentleman visited the new town of Upper Sandusky, ornamented with a long green bag which contained a violin, vulgarly, sometimes, called a fiddle. He announced himself as Prof. Van Gundy, and his object in greeting the people was to establish in our midst a singing school. Maj. Sears was then a young man who had led a choir or two at Bucyrus, and was somewhat noted for a tine falsetto voice. To him the Professor was directed for consolation. As we had just recovered from the small pox, the Major was a little diffident about spreading another epidemic, so he called to his assistance, Col. McKelly, Capt. Ayres, J. G. Roberts and Jacob Juvinall. They held a council of war over Van Gundy's fitness to practice his winter profession with the same degree of expertness that followed his alleged success during the summer. The Professor passed a very flattering examination, and as one of the above gentlemen remarked, " he could chaw patent notes with any man in America, living or dead," and was allowed to open the old Council House for business.

Of course the house was jammed, as nothing seemed to take so well in those days as a singing school. Prof. Van Gundy made his appearance; was in raptures over his enthusiastic reception, and, without further ceremony, unwrapped the violin from its green bag, and rendered "Old Hundred " with such fascinating rhapsody that the Major called for three cheers. He said he had heard Paganini's " Last Rose of Summer " Ole Bull's " Arkansaw Traveler," and Deacon McGill's " Bear Trot," but that Gundy's "Star Spangled Banner " beat them all and was entitled to the cake. Of course the Major did'nt like it very well when Billy King rose to a point of order, and insisted " that the Major should not try to palm off the doxology upon an intelligent audience for one of our national hymns." The Major, then, a good deal like he is now, appealed to the chair for the correctness of his musical judgment, and the chair, who was the Professor himself, " downed none the less evident When they came to the grave they found it considerably too short and not half wide enough to admit the coffin, so they thought they would take the corpse back and have another drink while the grave-digger was making a larger hole, and they did. By this time the shades of night were crawling upon them, but Abe had to be buried, and a second start was made. When the wagon drove up to the grave, and Maj. Bowsher was clearing his throat to pass an appropriate eulogy upon the life and services of the deceased, the corpse was missing ! The old wagon leaked and dropped Abe somewhere on the way. Back rushed the mourners in search of the corpse, which they readily found ; and at last Abe was planted. This is the substance of Abe's wake and funeral, which the Major amplifies with so many amusing situations, that you are irresistibly compelled to smile at death.

him,"' exclaiming that the beautiful aria he had just executed was the veritable "Old Hundred" and not the "'Star Spangled Banner" by a blank sight. Still the Major refused to be quieted, and called for a division of the house, and while thirty-nine voted for "Old Hundred," forty cast their ballots for the " Star Spangled Banner." Verily, there were a few scattering votes for "Barbara Allen" and "The Girl I Left Behind Me," but they were not counted.

The Major was victorious, and, for his musical discrimination, elected Superintendent of the singing school. He took the seat of honor and hoped that harmony would prevail, and among other things stated " that to prevent further confusion or controversy in regard to Prof. Van Gundy 's violin solos executed at the opening of these exercises, he would appoint Capt. Ayres, Col. McKelly, Judge Beidler and Capt. Worth, as connoisseurs, to determine and settle all questions that might arise hereafter in regard to their musical identity." This seemed to spread the white wings of peace over the audience, and all went to work at their buckwheat notes with a zeal and earnestness that made it lovely as well as melodious in the old Council House. But this supreme state of affairs only lasted for a short time.

Van Gundy, like all other impressarios, was nervous and excitable, and when some of our then young ladies (who are all forty-nine now), arranged their bustles for a flying leap among the flats and sharps on Gundy's blackboard, and got upso high that there was great danger of falling over on the other side, the Gundy presented a picture of desperation, and would sometimes insinuate that the audience before him was worse than the Ingins. This naturally created some little resentment, and before the close of the exercises it was evident that the Council House was entirely too large for a class in singing, on account of the home talent that gathered around an old ash barrel in the corner. The Superintendent thought so, too, and resigned his position. It was also very evident that while you could run a prayer meeting at the Council House, a singing school was out of the question, so Prof. Van Gundy announced "that the 'Sweet Singers in Israel' " - that was the name of the society - " would meet hereafter in the parlors of the Sell's Hotel, two doors north of Abe Trager's blacksmith shop." On the evening designated the Hotel Rocky presented a gay appearance, and Lawyer Sells, who spoke both languages fluently, was on hand to usher in the musical celebrities of our new town. In a few minutes the parlors were so ci'owded that Prof. Van Gundy and his fiddle had to be taken in through a window. Upon his appearance there was a loud yell for " Bonaparte Crossing the Alps," which was another of the Professor's solos that would pass muster for either the " Pretty Mer-i-maid," or " Yankee Doodle."

It was usual, at Prof. Van Gundy's singing school, for one of the prominent members present to sing a song, and on the evening in question Capt. Ayres was announced for the " Raging Canawl," then one of the flowers in the bouquet of altisonant minstrelsy. Capt. Ayres was then one of our handsomest young men, who always wore a ruffled shirt and a diamond that threw oft" scintillations equal to our present electric light. He was, moreover, the impersonation of modesty, and to face that critical audience, with Rocky Sells standing at the front door with a club to keep back the intruders, was a little more than the Captain could undergo, so he excused himself by stating that, in consequence of a large gum-boil on one of his toes, he was not in sufficient voice to do the " Raging Canawl " justice; and from the appearance of the animation outside, it might be well for the Professor to take the first mule for Sycamore. By this time the men and boys outside held at bay by liocky, deployed to the rear of the building, entered through the kitchen, and made their appearance among the singers, and you may know their presence created a cheerful pandemonium. Here it was that the tall and aged form of the elder Sells made its appearance, and waving the babel of tongues to silence, got off the following with a touch of parental affection:

" I wish to state to this congregation," said Father Sells " that there is altogether too much hi ligi-ty. I am informed by my worthy son. Rocky, that there are many here to-night who have sneaked in through a hole in the cellar for the purpose of spectating. Now I am willing they shall spectate, but those who come here to spectate should spectate, and not interfere with those who come here to exercise their exercise; and those who have come here to exercise their exercise should exercise their exercise, and not throw paper wads at those who come here to spectate; and those who come here to spectate should spectate, and not till the Professor's fiddle with shelled corn and rub tallow on his bow, as it makes the doxology look sick and frightens the children in the next room. I'm an old man from Carroll County, but by the holy Moses, those who come here to spectate must spectate, and those who come here to exercise their exercise must exercise their exercise, or somebody, will get led out by the eyebrow."

This speech was received with such vociferous applause that, before its effect had died away. Prof. Van Gundy bagged his violin, gathered up his patent notes, slid out of the back door and was seen no more. Thus ended the first singing school in Upper Sandusky. The above recital of a true occurrence should not indicate that there was ill-feeling or anything outside the propriety of a fun -loving assemblage. Those who went there to "exercise their exercise" undoubtedly had their tents pitched toward Zion, but the boys who " got in through the cellar" made it lively, as they always do, and this was done, not maliciously, but to play upon the sensitive nature of the Professor, who made a ridiculous exhibition of himself at every slight annoyance. In the language of a famous French author - " It was fun the gamin wanted, not fight. "

Corporate History

As already shown, the town was incorporated in February, 1848, but no records are now accessible - doubtless none are in Existence - to indicate who the officers were from 1848 to the spring of 1857, or what proceedings took place. Among those, however, who served as Mayor during this interval of time, unaccounted for, were William W. Bates, who was the first to occupy that position; next came Bivens. the shoemaker, and subsequently John D. Sears, Esq., who served two terms.

The village officers in June, 1857 - the date of the earliest minutes of the proceedings of town council now to be found - were Chester K. Mott, Mayor; E. M. Krakau, Recorder, or as now termed Clerk; Peter A. Tyler, John Stoker, Peter B. Beidler, James G. Roberts and B. SuUinger, Trustees or Town Council. Ernest M. Krakau, the Recorder, who was also known as a Surveyor and Civil Engineer, he having leveled and indicated the grade of the principal streets of Upper Sandusky, in September, 1848, died in September, 1857, when John Berry was appointed Recorder to till vacancy.

J. Stoker and B. Sullinger for $10 each, and an order in favor of J. G. Roberts for $5 for services as Councilman for the last two years. On mo tion Council adjourned sine die.'''' To defray the necessary expenses of the village for the current year, a tax of $500 was levied in 1857. The principal officers of the town elected since 1857 are shown as follows:

1858 - William T. Wilson, Mayor; John Stoker, R. A. Henderson, Henry Miller, John D. Sears and Samuel H. Hunt, Trustees; John Patterson, Marshal; James McCIean, Recorder.

1859 - James G. Roberts, Mayor; John Stoker, R. R. McKee, Henry Miller, N. F. Goetz and William Ayres, Councilmen; John Patterson, Marshal, and J. A. Maxwell, Recorder.

1864 - Peter A. Tyler, Mayor; William B. Hitchcock, Recorder; John H. Junkins, R. R. McKee, C. R. Mott, Thomas Dolan and L. Bowman, Trustees; Anthony Christen, Treasurer; M. Thomas, Marshal. Mayor Tyler died in June, 1864, when John Berry was appointed to that office to fill vacancy.

1866 - Robert McKelly, Mayor; W\ J. Hall, Recorder; Michael Moran, George W. Saltsman, William Ayres, Peter B. Beidler and Jacob Schaefer, Councilmen; John Cramer, Marshal; Anthony Christen, Treasurer. Anthony Christen died in June, 1866, when R. R. McKee was appointed Treasurer to till vacancy.

1870 - J. K. McCracken, Mayor; Peter B. Beidler, Patrick O'Brien, R. A. Henderson, Leonard StJef, Joseph Gaa and L. A. Brunner, ('ouncilmen; Anton Koppe, Marshal; Ulrich Orsinger, Treasurer; Henry Wolfnrd, Clerk.

* In May, 1860, 100 citizens presented a petition to this Council, praying for this protection of the "(ireen Tree," standing on Sandusky avenue, a little north of the front of the jail. This was the tree which was cut down when the street was macadamized in 1S74, and under which bones of soldiers of the war of 1812-15 were found.

]871 - Samuel M. Worth, Joseph Gaa, Jacob J. Stoll, Couneilmen ; Joel W. Gibson, Clerk; Frederick Ritter, Street Commissioner. In December, 1871, the Council appointed the following gentlemen as members of the first Board of Health for the town, viz. : Dr. R. N. McConnell and Dr. A. Billhardtto serve three years; S. Watson and A. W. Brinkerhoff to serve two years; T. E. Beery and John Agerter to serve one year.

1872 - Darius D. Hare, Mayor; Josiah Lowery, W. A. Gipson and Peter Beidler, Couneilmen; William E. Bowsher, Treasurer; Joel W. Gibson, Clerk; Christian Tschanen, Marshal.

1876 - Peter B. Beidler, Mayor; Allen Smalley, Clerk; Frank Keller, Treasurer; Peter J. Van Marter, Marshal; W. B. Hitchcock, Councilman First Ward; John F. Myers and Jacob Gottfried, Couneilmen Second Ward. The town was divided into two wards (Sandusky avenue serving as the dividing line) by an ordinance which was approved and passed by the Town Council, May 18, 1876.

*Sandusky avenue was macadamized from the railroad to Walker street in 1874. fHad served as Clerk from April, 1878, by appointment of the Board of Couneilmen.

Fire Department. - Although in December, 1857, Peter A. Tyler and Peter B. Beidler were designated as the Village Council's committee to ascertain the "probable cost of a tire engine, hooks and ladders," etc., nothing resulted, and the town was without the vestige of any fire apparatus, other than the wells and buckets owned by individuals, until April, 1858, when hooks and ladders were procured at a cost of $75. A wagon for transporting the same was purchased in May of that year, and at the same time a shed or temporary building was ordered to be built for the purpose of protecting the fire apparatus. The wagon cost $55; the building $75.

In January, 1860, many citizens petitioned the Village Council to purchase a certain fire engine from the people of Findlay, Ohio, for $500, but no further action was taken. In May, 1866, a tax for the purpose of raising money with which to purchase a fire engine was ordered to be levied, and Mayor McKelly with two Councilmen of his selection were instructed to visit "some of the neighboring towns for the purpose of inspecting their fire engines, etc., and their conveniences for supplying their towns with water." Their expenses to be paid out of the corporation funds. One year later - May, 1867 - the " Wyandot Chief," a steam fire engine, together with hose and hose cart, was purchased of the manufacturer, H. C. Silbby, for $8,500. SooQ after arrangements were completed for building an engine-house, providing cisterns for a water supply, and uniforming, the engine company. Buckets, ladders and an ax for the hook and ladder company were obtained under the supervision of Councilman P. O'Brien, in August, 1870. In February,

1873, at a cost of $1,445. Soon after the building was provided with a fire alarm bell from the West Troy (N. Y.) Bell Foundry. A Champion Chemical Engine was purchased in the fall of 1879. It was of one hundred gallons capacity, and cost $850. Subsequently a company known as the Babcock Engine Company was organized. Prior to that time, the town had an engine company (steamer), hose company and hook and ladder company.

In July, 1880, the Village Council exchanged the first steam fire engine for a new one, also a Silsby, paying besides the sum of $2,500. In June, 1882, the Junior Hook and Ladder Company was admitted to the tire department with the same privileges, compensation, etc.. as other members; the membership being limited to sixteen men, oflScers included.

Banks And Bankers

Upper Sandusky's first bank was established in 1854, by Harper, Ayres, Roberts & Co., a firm which consisted of George Harper, David Ayres, James G. Roberts, John D. Sears and W^illiam C. Hedges, the latter of Tiffin, Ohio. This was a private institution, with a capital stock of only $10,000. It ceased operations in 1859, when the business of the firm was settled in a satisfactory manner. Henry Davis succeeded this firm, and did a banking business in the same room - Roberts & Groff 's corner - for about one year.

In 1860, Sylvester Watson established the Exchange Bank, a private institution, which existed until Saturday, October 31, 1863, when it suspended. However, on Monday, November 2, 1863, the First National Bank was organized, into which the Exchange Bank was merged. The National was really organized August 15, 1863, but did not commence operations until the time stated above. The stockholders and the funds invested by

The first officers of the bank were Thomas V. Eeber, President; Sylvester Watson, Cashier; M. H. Gillett, Thomas V. Reber, Sylvester Watson,

F. F. Fowler, David Harpster and John D. Sears, Directors. In 1865, the capital stock was increased to $105,000, in which J. G. Roberts invested $5,000. He had been Assistant Cashier from the date of the bank's organization. In October, 1874, he was chosen Cashier, and at the same time Sylvester Watson was elected President. The present Directors are Sylvester Watson, Thomas V. Reber, John D. Sears, David Straw, James

G. Roberts and David Ayres. This bank has been one of the most successfully managed and substantial institutions in this part of Ohio. Its losses will not exceed $2,000, and it now has a surplus fund of $47,000.

The Wyandot County Bank was organized in the early days of 1867, and on the 1st day of April of that year its doors were opened for business. The original stockholders were L. B. Harris, I. H. Beery, T. E. Beery, J. A. Maxwell and George W. Beery, each of whom controlled capital stock to the amount of $8,000. George W. Beery has served as President of the bank since its organization.

On the 1st of September, 1868, T. E. Beery sold his interest to the other stockholders. Subsequently, or April 1, 1869, Mr. Maxwell, the first Cashier, sold half his interest to the remaining stockholders, and Ed A. Gordon succeeded him as Cashier. In June, 1877, Mr. Maxwell sold the remainder of his stock to the bank. No other changes or transfer of stock have occurred. This bank has been ably conducted and occupies a prominent place among the monetary institutions of this section of the State.

Central Bank. - In 1860, R. R. McKee established a private banking house in Upper Sandusky. He was succeeded in the business by R. R. McKee & Co., and on the 3d of March, 1873, the last mentioned firm were succeeded by those composing the Central Bank, the latter being the first bank started under the new State law. Ultimately - during the early days of 1884 - while John S. Rappe was serving as President, and William H. Frederick as Cashier, the Central Bank failed with but meager assets, thereby entailing great losses, in the aggregate, upon many depositors.

Manufacturing Interests

The Stevenson Machine Works. - In November, 1865, Geoi'ge B. Stevenson removed from Canton, Ohio, to Upper Sandusky, and purchased a small foundry, a one-story frame building, of John Cams. The building stood on the site of the present works. Mr. Stevenson was a machinist by trade, and he continued, in an unimportant way, as founder and machinist until 1867, when he invented the Wyandot Chief, a direct acting circular saw mill, and began the manufacture of them.

This mill was favorably received, and the business of their manufactm^e increased so rapidly that, in 1868, Mr. Stevenson erected the present shops. The main building is 36x100 feet and two-stories in height. The foundry is 36x80 feet, with an L 20x30 feet, which is used as a blacksmith shop. The material used in their construction is bi'ick.

In the spring of 1869, Col. Cyrus Sears was admitted as a partner, and the firm of Stevenson & Sears continued until January 1, 1872, when Mr.

Sears sold his one-half interest to Jacob Juvinall, John R. Layton, J. K. McCracken and D. S. Miller. The firm of George B. Stevenson & Co. then existed until April 14, 1874, when Mr. Stevenson purchased the half interest owned by his partners, and thereafter conducted the business alone until I November 1, 1881. At that time George W. Beery, Roe Stevenson and John Agerter became partners, and under the title of the Stevenson Machine Works, Messrs. Stevenson, Agerter & Co., have since operated as proprietors.

The buildings first erected cost $15,000, and the machinery 15,000. Since the organization of the present firm, a warehouse 30x60 feet, one story high, with slate roof, has been erected at a cost of $1,000. The firm employ forty men, and continue to manufacture the saw mills already mentioned, besides the famous Stevenson engine. This engine was invented by Mr. Stevenson in 1875. He has since made valuable improvements upon the same, which are covered by three patents. In 1883, the firm manufactlU'ed and sold forty-five engines and eleven saw mills, which represents an annual business of more than $100,000. Their engines have been shipped to points extending from New Jersey to Nebraska, and from Lake Superior to Georgia. The Stevenson engine was awarded the first premium at the Ohio State Fair. By his enterprise, Mr. Stevenson has been the cause of circulating more than $2,000,000 in the town of Upper Sandusky.

The Upper Sandusky Straiv Board Company was organized December 29, 1881, with S. H. Hunt, S. H. White, Samuel Lee, John Thompson, R. McKelly and T, E. Beery as members, who invested $60,000 in the enterprise. The officers consist of S. H. Hunt, President, and S. H. White Secretary and Treasurer, while all the stockholders are recognized as Directors.

In the summer of 1882, the building owned by the company was erected on the east bank of the Sandusky River, near the line of the Pittsburgh, Fort Wayne «& Chicago Railroad. It is of brick, roofed with slate, and contains an engine room, 125x35 feet, one story high; a bleaching room, 40x50 feet, two stories in height; a boiler room, one story, 30x45 feet; a machine room, one story, 135x35 feet; and a ware room, one story, 30x40 feet. Power is derived from two engines of 120 and 30 horse-power respectively.

The company began operations September 1, 1882, with five beating engines of 700 pounds capacity each; two rotary boilers or bleachers, fourteen feet in diameter, and each having a capacity of bleaching four tons of straw at each filling; a No 7 Ross cutter, capable of cutting four tons of straw per hour. In short, the works have capacity for the manufacture of ten tons of straw board per day. They manufacture their own gas, and have a steam pump which takes 1,000 gallons from the Sandusky River per minute.

The building cost $15,000, the machinery $55,000, and the real estate, twelve acres, $5,000. When in operation, thirtj-two men, and from ten to fifteen teams are employed. Twelve tons of straw are used per day. The products are shipped principally to Eastern cities.

The Upper Sandusky Mills were completed and began operations about September 1, 1858. They were built by James G. Roberts and Joseph H. Groff, who owned and operated them until 1869, when Jacob Purkeypile became the owner. Subsequently, Chester R. Mott, Dallas C. Pierson and Michael Moran were part owners at different periods. In 1876, James Kerr and his son, Robert E. Kerr, purchased a three-fourths interest. Three years later, they purchased the other one-fourth, and since that date the millB have been operated by Robert E. Kerr. In 1881, Mr. Kerr added an Excelsior puritier and other iraprovements, to the amount of 13,000. These mills have a capacity of fifty barrels of flour per day. Three men are steadily employed, and the products consist of both ciistom and merchants' work.

The City Mills were built by Daniel Walborn, and first commenced operations on the 4th day of November, 1875. In March, 1876, Mr. Walborn sold a one-third interest to M. B. Hough, and another third to Ephraim Fenner. The following May he sold the remainder to Jacob Juvinall. The business was then conducted by the above-mentioned parties until 1878, when W. J. Streby pui'chased Hough's interest. In 1882, Mr. Streby bought of Charles Juvinall the interest formerly owned by Jacob Juvinall, and at about the same time W. D. Kail purchased from Adam Stephan the interest formerly owned by Ephraim Fenner. L. T. Myers became a rented partner in 1880. The building occupied is 30x40 feet in dimensions, and two stories in height. At first only two run of buhrs were used. In 1882, however, two more buhrs and a double set of Allis' rolls were added, and other machinery, to the amount of $4,000. The mills now have a capacity of thirty-five barrels per day. Three men are employed, and as is usual in small towns, both custom and merchants' flour is produced.

Beery^s Elevator was erected in 1875 by the Beery Brothers, at a cost of $4,000. It is situated on the line of the Columbus & Toledo Railroad, is two stories in height, and is operated by hoi'se- power. The firm, still known as Beery Bros., handle annually from fifty to seventy-five thousand bushels of wheat, besides other grains. The principal shipments are made to New York and Baltimore.

Hale d- White's Elevator, which is located on the line of the Pittsburgh, Fort Wayne & Chicago Railroad, corner of Sandusky avenue and Hicks street, was built by Col. Samuel H. Hunt* in 1876. Subsequently, T. E. Beery acquired a one-half interest. In 1882, S. H. White bought a halfinterest, his elevator which stood across the railroad from the present building having burned. On the 1st of July, 1883, G. W. Hale purchased T. E. Beery 's interest, and the business has since been conducted under the firm name of White & Hale. Their annual transactions, including the handling of wool, umouDts to about $150,000.

'^ The building occupied is in the form of an "L," each wing being 120 feet long. It has a receiving capacity of 10,000 bushels per day, storage for 30,000 bushels, and is operated by steam.

i^ The Upi^er Sandusky Gas Light Company was organized October 22, 1878, with a capital stock of $20,000. The original subscribers to the stock were William Smith, Sylvester Watson, James G. Roberts, John D. Sears, James M. Hawes, Alexander L. McKaig and Alexander L. McKaig & Co.

On the 3d of December, 1878, Alexander L. McKaig, William Smith, S. Watson, James G. Roberts and John D. Sears were elected Directoi's. The Directors then elected S. Watson President, and Alexander L. McKaig Secretary. These gentlemen acted as President and Secretary until October 14, 1881, when Mr. McKaig, having disposed of his interest to I. H. Beery, Anthony Beery and T. E. Beery, resigned. Meanwhile, John D. Sears had disposed of his stock to S. H. White. At this meeting, October 14, 1881, James G. Roberts, I. H. Beery, A. Beery, S. H. White and T. E. Beery were made Directors. Mr. S. Watson's resignation as President was

* By utilizing a part of tlie Pittsburgh, Fort Wayne A Chicago Railroad Depot, Mr. Hunt did an extensive and profitable business in handling grain, long before the first grain elevator was built in Upper Sandusky.

accepted, and James G. Robertb was duly elected to fill the vacancy. At the same meeting, I. H. Beery was elected Treasurer, and T. E. Beery was chosen Secretary. At that time, there were but eighteen consumers, now there are 110 consumers. The works are situated on the bhiff, at the south end of Fifth street.

Church Organizations

The First Presbyterian Church of Upper Sandusky was organized with seven members, at a meeting held in the old Mission Church in 1845, by Rev. Mr. Hutchinson, of Bucyrus, Ohio. Prior to that time, however, a Mr. McCain had preached in the same church edifice at irregular intervals.

This congregation built a small frame house of worship in 1847, which was occupied for a number of years. Their present handsome brick church was erected in 1866, at a cost of $12,000.

The original members were Mr. and Mrs. Goodman, Mr. and Mrs. Searls, Mr. Taggart, Mrs. Letitia McCutchen and Rev. Mr. McCain. The present members are 180 in number, of whom Thomas M. Bowman, D. W. Byron, J. A. Stockton and John Ewing are Elders.

Following are the names of the pastors who have had charge of this congregation: Revs. Messrs. Charles Thayer, McCain, Baird, Holliday, Bogle, Lower. Fry, Edgar, Moore, Colmery, Copeland and Carson.

The Methodist E2nsco2Xil Church of Upper Sandusky was organized in the autumn of 1845. On the 27th of September of that year, the followingnamed gentlemen were elected as members of the first Board of Trustees: Andrew M. Anderson, Guy C. Worth, James B. Alden, Alexander Armstrong, Joseph Cover, Alexander Voluntine and William Myers.

At a meeting of the Board of Trustees held Juue 25, 1846, it was resolved to circulate a paper soliciting subscriptions to aid in the erection of a church building. It was also decided at this meeting to dispose of the lot already purchased by the society, which being Inlot No. 306, and then situated in the outskirts of the village, and apply the proceeds to the purchase of a lot more centrally located. Subsequently, at a meeting of the Board of Trustees held November 11, 1846, it was agreed to purchase Inlot No. 114, situated on the northeast corner of Johnston and Seventh streets. The amount paid for Lot No. 114, including a building thereon, was §250. The first payment, $100, was raised by a special subscription, except $6 50, which was drawn from the building fund.

Soon after, Andrew M. Anderson, James B. Alden and Alexander Voluntine, who having been appointed a building committee, were instructed to " build a house of worship 24x36 feet, of plank, ten feet story, three fifteen light windows, of 10x12 glass, on each side, and two windows in front with one door in the center of the front end of said building." This house was completed, probably in 1847. Prior to its completion, the Meth- odists had occupied the Wyandot Mission Church, which, owing to an oversight, at the time the Wyandot Reservation was purchased by the United States, was not especially reserved to the Methodist society, and for that reason, a very good one, all claims upon it as Methodist property were abandoned.

The frame house of worship was used until the spring of 1854, when the present church edifice was commenced. The latter was not entirely finished, however, until the summer of 1859. It cost about $4,500. During subsequent years, a parsonage was built at a cost of $500.

The First English Evangelical Lutheran Church was organized by Rev. Jacob Schaner, at a meeting held at the house of George C. Wolford, February 5, 1849. Prior to that time, however, or on the 29th of -January, 1849, a meeting of the members of this denomination had been held at the "old Indian council house," when and where Rev. J. Schaner and D. Harbaugh officiated.

Fourteen members originally signed the church constitution, which number was soon increased to thirty-five, among whom were Michael Miller and wife, George C. AVolford and wife, Samuel Smith and wife, Benjamin Taylor and wife, John Furlinger and wife, Daniel Sterner and wife, and their children - Julia, Michael and Emanuel Sterner - Samuel, Josiah and Ephraim Miller, and Mrs. Dr. Watson.

1851. It stood upon Lot No. 305, northwest corner of Fifth and Findlay streets, and cost $1,4(^0. The structure now in use was built in 1879, at a cost of 15,000. It stands upon the northeast corner of Eighth street and Wyandot avenue, is 36x56 feet in exterior dimensions, and is constructed of brick, trimmed with sandstone.

In the Sunday school, eighty scholars are enrolled. The Ladies' Aid Society raised $97 during the year 1883, which was expended on the church property.

llie Church of God of Upper Sandusky was organized at a meeting held in the old Indian Mission Church, by Elder David Neidtheth,in February, 1851. The original members, ten in number, were Christian Biestel, C. Biestel, Margaret Biestel, J. W. Senseny, A, R. Senseny, A. Biestel, J. Wilson, M. Biestel, George Lott and L. Fensel. Their house of worship is constructed of brick. Among those who have officiated as pastors were David Neidtheth, William Adams, J. M. West, A>'illiam Shafer, William McCormick and J. W. Senseny.

1852. Respecting its early history, etc, the present pastor, Rev. E. D. Miller, writes as follows: "This church has a history. Rev. August Winter was the first Reformed minister here, who stood in regular connection with the Synod of the Reformed Church of the United States, but the exact date when he came is not known. He must have been born in the year 1850. How long he labored, however, or when he left, the records fail to show. After him came Rev. J. J. Brecht, who remained but a brief period. When Mr. Brecht withdrew. Rev. Peter Joeris was elected pastor of the charge, consisting of Upper Sandusky and the Emanuel's congregations, and com- menced his work here about the year 1852. In that year, he effected the first permanent organization of Trinity Reformed Church of Upper Sandusky. Pastor Joeris remained until about the year, 1858 or 1859. After he left, the charge was vacant until the year 1862, when Rev. J. Klingler came as a supply from Ada, Ohio, continuing so for four years. Finally, in 1865 the church was re- organized, and in 1866 the first church - an unpretending brick edifice, 26x50 feet - was built on North Fifth street, at a cost of $2,500. From a very humble beginning, the congregation now numbered about 150 members. Mr. Klingler continued his self -defying, and, in the main, successful, service until 1875. a period of about fourteen years. During his ministerial labors also, the old-time "Mud Church," in Pitt Township, was replaced by a neat brick building. Its members are about 145 in number. These two congregations were always served by the same pastor."