Gibson County, Indiana - Chapter 20: A Neighborhood Retrospect, 1914

Chapter 20: A Neighborhood Retrospect

Breathes there a man with soul so dead that these Hnes from Woodworth's famihar poem, "The Old Oaken Bucket", has not stirred within him a responsive chord of memory and reflection? A man "whose heart hath ne'er within him burned, as home his footsteps he hath turned?" Pity the man who had no home in childhood to which he might turn in fond reflection in after years. Much more to be pitied and to be despised is the man, who, "though high his titles and proud his name," has no reverence nor regaled for the home and friends of his childhood.

The sentiment expressed in the lines of Woodworth was vividly in my mind as I found occasion a slmrt time ago to \-isit some of the "lo\-ed spots which my infancy knew." in a neighborhood about four miles northeast of Princeton. It was "the fond recollection" of scenes and incidents in this neighborhood in the long ago that furnished the inspiration fi>r this sketch, a sketch somewhat historical and largely personal.

With the splendid rock roads and modern conveyance it is a short anil easy journey to the late homestead of John M. Stormont, in the neighborhood which is to furnish the material for this sketch. In pioneer times this farm was known as the Kell place. Like all the early settlers, the Kells located their home on the highest hill they cottld find, avoiding the lowlands and bottoms and the tnalaria which was supposed to be prevalent there. Here Alexander K. Kell, a son of the first settlers, Imilt him a home, adding several acres to the homestead of his ancestors. Some of these acres are very broken and hilly and a great amount of hard labor was required in getting these lands in shape for cultivation. But there are acres of comparatively level land on the farm on which good crops are raised. The present owner, who made his home here until a few )'ears ago. hail made some modern impro\-ements about his house and Ijarn, among others a system of water wnrks. I'roni a lari^e cistern, or reserv<iir, sujjplied with water from a tlriven well, operated by a wind-mill ])ump. located on a hill near the barn, water is carried b\- ])ipes to the house and barn in sufticient supi)ly for stock and domestic purposes.

In our wanderings about this place we linalh- came to the top of the hill \vhere this reservoir is located, and here we ha\e a \iew of the countr\- for miles around. Standing;- on this summit, in the middle of a held now un<ler culti\ation, it is not much of a stretch of memory to recall the time wiien this, and nearly all the country ar<iund, was an unbroken forest. Winding through what was then a woods, not far from the place where we are standing, there was a narrow country road, which was the connecting link between the old Kirk's mill and the Dongola roads, as these were known then. This narrow, winding road was much traveled in the days in which my memory is now centered. And I am reminded of one incident that occurred on this road, not far from the place where we are now standing, which is still fresh in the memory of the few living participants. Jt will be of interest to these few, and perhajis (jthers, to relate this stor}-.

Early Time Wedding Ceremonies

In earl\- times, in this neighborhood, as in others, it was the custom to make a great to-do about a wedding cerenion\-. In those times a wedding was strictly a neighborhood affair, and all the neighborhood was interested, and they were nearly all and always there when the ceremony was pulled ofi. A surprise wedding was practically impossil)le in tho.se days. There were no secret marriages, and it was not customary, nor considered ])roper, for _\-oung people to seek an affinity outside of the families living in the neighborhood. Everybody knew who w^as going to marry and when the nuptial ceremony was to take place, and everybody began in ample time to make preparations to attend. No engraved invitation, or any other sort of invitation was necessary. .\. wedding day was usually a sort of neigiiborhood holiday. It was the custom to have a procession, composed of the friends of the bride and Ijridegrnom, respectively, who would assemble at the respective homes of the high contracting parties at the aiipointed hour, on the day of the ceremony. Then, the bride's part}-, in buggies and on horseback, would start from her home and proceed to the home (if the groom, where they would meet the procession that was to serve as his escort. Then the combined procession, headed by that of the groom, would return to the home of the bride for the official cerenionv. The groom, clothed in the conventional wedding garn*ients of those times, always rode in front of the procession. A necessary part of the groom's conventional outfit was a plug hat. Whatever else he might lack in worldly goods or wearing apparel, the young man of those times would not think of fixing the date of his wedding until he was sure that somehow he could arrange for a plug hat to wear on that occasion. It might be the first, last and only time he would wear this sort of head gear, but his concern was only for the present requirements and custuniary proprieties.

The combined procession of the bride and groom, with much display of ribbons, banners and blowing of horns, was a spectacle to attract attention as it passed along the way to the home of the expectant bride, where the minister was in waiting and the ceremony was duly performed. But it was not all over yet. The next day was the "infare", when the same sort of a procession escorted tlie newly-weds to the home of the groom, where dinner was served and a da\- of hilarity enjoyed by those present. Then, after these two days of hurr\' and ceremony, the neighborhood settled down to the usual work and quiet.

The incident I started to relate was connected with a wedding celebration like that described. The procession from the home of the bride passed along the winding road through the woods near the place where we are now standing, on the way to the home of the groom, a half mile distant. Headed by the escort of the groom, the procession passed along this same road on their return to the home of the bride. The procession was marked by much display, in the way of decorated vehicles, banners, ribbons and loud apparel, and the blowing of horns. Everything went as merry as the traditional marriage bell until the procession was passing along the road through this woods. Then something happen-id that was not down on the program.

That same day Paul Habig, Jake IColb and Bob Kirkman were out in this part of the country looking after some cattle to supply their meat market in Princeton. In the bunch they were driving to town was one wild, untamed steer that manifested an unwillingness to be separated from his accustomed grazing grounds. The cattle buyers had been chasing this wild steer for hours and had managed to get him as far as this woods about the time of the approach of the bridal procession. He was a hundred yards or so from the road when the horn blowing and the loud apparel of the passing show attracted his attention and he at once made a wild dash in that direction. Down through llie thick underhrush came this wild beast of the forest, with head erect and tail extended, bawling as he came. It is not difficult to imagine the effect of this terrifying spectacle. Horses were panic stricken and so were tlie occupants of the gaily bedecked vehicles, h'ear and consternation ruled where but a moment before there was joy and hilarity. The screams and shrieks of the women, the shouts of the drivers of vehicles, as they tried to contrnl the terrified horses, and. withal, the bawling of that wild steer as he came riying through the brush, constituted a scene that lacked nothing for excitement. Nothing like this had been seen and heard in these woods since the Indians left.

Many of the horses became unmanageable and broke away through the woods, dashing buggies against trees and seriously injuring the occupants. Fortunately none of the injuries were serious. The most serious of the casualties was in broken harness and wrecked vehicles. Some of the horses, finding themselves free from harness and other incumbrance, made a bee line for home, leaving their owners to get out of that scrape the best they could.

Things are never so bad but what they might be worse. It was so in this case. The procession finally got itself together again. Those who were disabled in body, or in wreck of family carriage, were sent to their homes antl the remnant proceeded on their way to the place of ceremony. But the remainder of the journey was without pomp or hilarity. That untamed steer had put a crimp in all that, but it was some satisfaction to know that his glory was short lived. He was finally driven to town and to the slaughter. But this escapade in these woods had one good result - it ended that fashion of foolishness on wedding occasions. This was the last of that kind in that neighborhood.

Standing on this hill, which is now our viewpnint for what follows, with the aid of a field glass, we can see the farms and farm houses on the hills beyond Patoka river, in ^Vashington township, as we look toward the north. Looking to the east, we get a view of the lands in Columbia township, and on a clear day can see the smoke from manufacturing industries in Oakland City. This is a fine viewpoint for all the country, for eight or ten miles around, a country of fine farms and fertile fields now, but largely covered with unbroken forest of much fine timber at the time in which my memory dwells. But it is a retrospect of this immediate neighborhood that interests me most just now. From this viewpoint I can easily locate the homes of those who were the pioneers in this neighborhood, and it is of these that my story will deal.

Looking down the slope of this hill, as we face east, the house that is first in view is on the site of the old homestead of John Carithers, who came with his family from Tennessee in 1836. He was a man of sturdy principle and rather above the average in intellectual attainments in those days. His education was sufficient to qualify him for teaching school and he engaged in this occupation part of the time after coming to this state. Like most of those who settled in this neighborhood, Mr. Carithers had left his home in the South because of his opposition to slavery, and he hesitated not to declare his convictions as to that blighting evil in his Tennessee home. Coming to Indiana, he brought his principles with him. Here he manifested his opposition to slavery and the slave traffic, not only in preaching, but also in practice. In the days of the "underground railroad" his house became one of the stations, and his sympathies and efforts were actively enlisted in behalf of bundmen seeking freedom. The old barn that stood on the site we now have in \iew has harbored many a black man trying to escape to the land of libertv. His place was always under suspicion, and often visited by the slave-hunters, but they seldom found what they were looking for. This was before the days of wireless telegraphy, but these "underground railroad" stations had a system that enabled them to operate their lines under a code of signals equal to any of the modern methods of communication. By some secret code or sign, which was well understood by the runaway slave and those aiding him. he was passed along from one station to another until he reached Canada, the land of freedom. No man, of whate\-er color or condition, e\-er came to the home of John Carithers seeking food or shelter and was sent away unsatisfied. He was a grand Christian man, whose life anil influence was a blessing and a benediction on the community in which he li\'ed. The only members of this family now living are ^Irs. Jane Reid, Morning Sun, Iowa, and Mrs. Louise Peoples, Princeton.

Looking a little to the left, about a quarter of a mile distant, we have in view the place where Josiah E. Carithers, son of the above mentioned, . Ijuilt a log house in the woods and started keeping house, more than half a century ago. He had taken for his wife and help-meet Elizabeth Lockhart. whose familv- home was alj(.)ut half a mile east. Here he continued to live, clearing out the forest, arlding cultivated acres to the original homestead, until he had one of the best farms in the neighborhood. Owing to declining health, he removed to Princeton about three years ago, where he died in

On the hill direetl\- east (jf where we are standing is the place where William Murphy lived fur about twn generations. It was not much of a farm that Mr. Murphy owned, l)ut he managed to li\c on it and rearetl a large family. He had the finest blackberry patch in the neighborhood in early times. He also had some excellent apples in his orchard, as some of the boys of that time could testify. These same boys could also testify to the fact that extreme caution was necessary for the trespassers in the Murphy orchard, on account of the Murjihy dogs, tliat kejit faithful watch over the same. \'ery often the incautious trespasser found it necessary to climb a tree to avoid a controversy with these dogs, and he was compelled to remain there, regardless of the weather, until the dog watch was relieved.

Looking toward the southeast, we can see the old homestead of IMathew Clark, and also that of William Clark, both early settlers, who came in with the Tennessee colony. In later }ears the Mathew Clark farm came into the possession of Clarence A. Buskirk, who planted it in fruit trees and made it a fine fruit farm. Still further east we get a view of the places where Samuel Lawrence and William Lawrence, respectively, founded a home when they came to this county from Ohio. .\ little to the right we locate the farm and homestead of Dustin Mills, who was probably one of the earliest settlers. He came from Maine and located here in 1816. He was among the best farmers of his time. His farm, fences, house and other buildings were alwa\'s kept in good re])air. and e\er\thing aliout the premises was remarkable for neatness and good taste.

Just beyond the Samuel Lawrence place are the William Harbinson acres. Mr. Harbinson was a .South Carolinian, a gentleman of the old school. He was the most neat and dres.sy person in the neighborhood, and e\erything about his place conformed to his personal appearance. Nothing slovenly nor untidy was permissible in his person or possessions. And this reminds me of an episode, or an escapade, that may as well be related here.

As has been stated. Air. Harbinson was very particular to have everything about his premises neat and attractive, and, in accordance with tliis disposition, he erected a very fine gate, opening into the driveway from the public road, leading to his house, which was located in a grove a few hundred yards from the road. This gate was made bv Mr. Harbinson himself, who was a fine carpenter. It was of fine black walnut, and painted white, the pride of the maker and the admiration of all who passed that way. It attracted the attention of a bunch of boys, returning from the Lawrence schoolhouse, one cold, rainy winter exening. They also admired the gate, but manifested their admiration in a rather scandalous way. Some satanic spirit, that sometimes gets possession of boys, suggested that this gate needed something further in the way of decoration, and this suggestion immediately took active form. In the muddy road they found an abundance of decorating material to their liking, and they at once proceeded to apply it. With hastily made paddles, with bare hands, and with an industry and energy unusual for boys engaged in legitimate work, they soon had that gate thoroughly daubed and plastered. It was a sight to make angels weep, and these boys would doubtless have been engaged in a similar tearful exercise if the owner had happened along before the job had been completed and they had made their get-away. That night it turned cold, and the mud on that gate, and everything else, froze hard and tight. Thus the owner found it when he essayed to drive out the ne.xt morning. That beautiful gate would not stand ajar, however much he might jar it, so he found it necessary to open a gap in the fence until the weather moderated sufficiently to thaw the mud on the gate. Mr. Harbinson was somewhat gifted in the use of a vigorous and expressive vocabulary, and it is not at all unlikely that he exercised that gift to the fullest when he discovered the condition of things.

Somehow the boys who engaged in this decorative art managed to get by the school teacher (Arthur Trimble), who held a court of inquiry in regard to the matter the next day, and it so happened that their respective parents overlooked a stern duty. But the information came that the owner of that gate had secured the names of the bo\s, and that he had registered a vow to give to the leader of that bunch, especiall)% what was coming to him, on sight. So, the leader, being apprised of this duly registered vow, and being fully persuaded that the indignant owner of the gate meant what he said, decided that, whatever there might be coming to him, he would just as soon wait ; that, in order to avoid unpleasant consequences, it would be the part of discretion to keep himself out of sight.

In pursuance of this policy, by cutting across fields, and an occasional dodging behind trees, as the owner of this gate would be seen from a distance driving along the road, this undesired interview was avoided and the registered vow was never fulfilled. It was some years after this that the outlawed transgressor first met Mr. Harbinson, face to face, as he was drix-ing out from town. Then the bov had on the uniform of a soldier and he had then no inclination to avoid a nicftiui;'. I'lUl it was nut necessary, as Mr. Harbinson was in a friendly frame of mind miw. lie manifested it h\- .yetting out of his buggy and. extending bis band to the _\oung .soldier, congratulated him on his having enlisted in the army, and expressed a wish for his success and a safe return home. A suggested apology for past indiscretion was met with a laugh by Mr. Harbinson, remarking that no apology was necessary for that boyish freak, especially since the boys who engaged in it were now enlisting in the service of their country. With friendly counsel and admonition, Mr. Harbinson bid the young soldier farewell and godspeed - and thus, unconsciously, administered a more efifective punishment than the one threatened years before.

Turning again to view the landscape o'er, looking toward the northeast, across Lost Creek valley, we recognize the old home of Thomas Wallace, another Tennesseean, who did his full share of the work that converted these forests into fruitful fields. He lived in that house, and labored in these forests and fields, for more than two generations, and here he died, a few years ago, at an advanced age. There were never better neighbors, nor a more kind-hearted people, than Uncle Tom Wallace, and his faithful wife, who preceded him to the grave but a few years.

Within a stone's throw, almost, looking toward the north, is the place where James Stormont established a home, and where he lived for forty \ears or more. Still further, looking in the same direction, is the old home of William Stormont. About 1836 he settled there, in the woods, on a small tract of land and built a small log house. Year after year he added acre to acre and. b)- hard and patient labor, changed forest into cultivated field, until he owned in one body a fine farm of over three hundred acres. He continued to live on this farm until 1873. when he sold it, removed to Princeton and bought another farm near the town. He continued to devote his attention to his farming interests up to the time of his death, which occurred January i. 1894, at the age of eighty-six years. William and James Stormont were of the tribe of Stormonts who came here from South Carolina in 1832. liecause of their opposition to slavery. The father of the tribe settled on the hills, half a mile east of where we are now standing, where David, the youngest of the tribe, lived for the greater part of his life. James Stormont, the father, d.ied in the old home in 1862, at the age of eighty-nine years.

Memories Of A Home And A Moss-Covered Bucket

Almost within speaking distance is the place where Andrew Carithers settled when he came here from his Tennessee home. This was the home of a revered grandfather and a sainted grandmother, a place of sacred memory to the writer of this sketch. Here they lived their full measure of days, and then passed on to their place in that house not made with hands. The only member of this family now living is Mrs. John Dunlap, whose home is now in Chicago. In that loved spot, which my infancy knew as grandmother's home, there is nothing that fond recollection presents to view more vividlv than the old well, with its old-fashioned well-sweep, and the mosscovered bucket, that lirought from the well's pebbled bottom the purest and sweetest water that nature can yield. I fancy that it was a well, with an equipment like this, that inspired Woodworth's "Old Oaken Bucket". How often, in after years, especially in the years of army service, has the memory turned to the refreshing, sparkling water in that well. In the days of long, dry and dusty marches, with scant supply of water, often obtained from stagnant pools, or muddy creeks, the thirsty soldier would longingly think of that moss-covered bucket. drip])ing with coolness as it rose from the well. With slight variation, and with an apology to the author, these lines from Woodworth will express the thought :

On account of the intcr\-ening hills we can hardly see it, but memory easilv fixes the place, directly mirth, which was the old home of Andrew Alakenison, an earnest Christian man, a patriarch, of my boyhood fancy. This home was on the hills o\erlooking Patoka ri\er bottoms. It was a log house, of the primitive type and primitive furnishings, with the wide, capacious fire-place common to those times. As I remember it. the walls of the interior of that house were always neatly papered with copies of the Cincinnati Dollar Times, a family news and story paper, of which Mr.

Makenisi.ni was a regular subscriber. This intericir dccuralion is tixeii in memory by impressions made in attendance on llie neighliorhood prayermeetings, which were frequently held at this house. On such occasions it was the custom to have benches around the room, next the wall, for the boys to sit on. There were usually enough chairs to acconiniodate the older peoi)le. They had long prayers at these meetings, all kneeling. But the boys, who faced the wall in this kneeling position, never wearied on account of these extended supjilications, unless, perchance, some of the newspapers on the wail should be pasted ujjside down, so that they could not read the stories which the paper containeil. How long Mr. Makenison li\ed in this house I have no knowledge, but I recall a boxhood fancy that he lived there longer than was necessary; that he was titted for glory sometime before he was called from that home on the hill to one that was higher and more enduring.

On another tract of land, adjoining, was the home of a son, Joseph Makemson. He hewed the logs and built the house in which he lived during his lifetime. Another son, Anderson, grew to manhood in the old home, and lived there for several years after his father's death. As one of the younger generation, he coiitriliuted his full share of the hard work incident to farm life in those earh' times. .Anderson Makemson is still lix'ing, a resijected citizen of Princetfjn, and he is the lone sur\ivor of those who lived and worked with the early settlers of this neighborhood. The only other members of the ^Makemson family living are John, who lives in Iowa, and Airs. Millis, l)etter known as Mag Makemson in the times of which I am writing, whose home is in Kansas. Near the Makemson home was the old log school house, where the youth of the neighborhood received such education as was aitoriled in early times. One of those who attended school here was James Makemson, an older member of that family, as is evidenced by the following certificate. This certificate was found (as this manuscript was written) in an old family Bible of James Storniont, Sr., where it has evidently been for over seventv years. Just why this certiiicate came into the hands of the owner of this Bible, and why it was so carefully preserved during all the years the book was in daily use, is not explainable. Anyhow, this old document has lain in its hiding place long enough to entitle it to a place in this story, without explanation or apology, and a copy is here given :

"I, Francis Borland, teacher of the school district \o. 2, in I'atoka township Xo. 2 south, and range Xo. 10 west, in the county of Gibson, do certify range No. 10 west, in said county, has attended at this school since the 26th day of March, A. D. 1842, amounting in the aggregate to 29 days.

"Personally appeared before me, a Justice of the Peace, for the county aforesaid, Francis Borland, the within named teacher, who subscribed the within certificate, before me, and, being duly sworn, says the within certificate is true.

Many other things of interest come to mind in looking over the country from this viewpoint, but we will leave them for the present and move to another point, a mile or more to the northeast, to a hill beyond the Page school house. From this hill, looking north and east, we see marvelous changes that have taken place since the time of boyhood memory. Then, all this country was a vast swamp, an impenetrable wilderness, inhabited by snakes, frogs, lizards, mud turtles and various kinds of wild animals. Now, this same country is a great cornfield, as far as the eye can reach, and comprises some of the most valuable and most productive land in the county. The greater part of these productive acres, looking to the north and west, are the lands of Alfred Mauck and Thomas Carithers, respectively. On the hill, to the left of where we are standing, is the old homestead of William Morrow. Here he lived for more than half a century, and -here he died a few years ago, at an advanced age. At the foot of the hill is the site, of the old homestead of Mrs. Hannah Mills, or Mrs. Dillon, as she was known in later life. Starting from near her home was the old "crossway," as it was called, which was the. road that led through the forest and swamp to Kirk's mill, a mile and a half distant. This thoroughfare was constructed with logs, laid crosswise, and it was the only connection between the hills, on the one side of the swamp, and Kirk's mill, and the country beyond on the other. This "crossway" was an exceedingly rough road to travel, but it was much traveled in pioneer times, not for pleasure but because of necessity. This was the only way for the people on this side to get to Kirk's mill, which was the main dependence for corn meal, and corn meal was the staff of life in those times.

In the early fifties there began quite an increase in the emigration from Ireland and Scotland. A great many of these emigrants came to Gibson county, and most cif them to tliis neighliorhond. This emi^ratidu was induced, largely, by Rev. Dr. John Stott, who came from Ireland about that time, and became pastor of the Reformed Presbyterian church (Old Side) in I'rinceton. Most of those who came with him, or followed soon after, were Dr. Stott's parishioners in the old country. These Irish people were all of industrious habits and a good class of citizens. Some of those wiio came to this neighborhood had sufficient means to buy land and establish a home, l)Ut most of them came with small means and depended on day labor for a lixing. But they were ready and willing for any kind of work and tliey found no trouble in getting employment. In a few years, by thrift and economy, they were all able to purchase land and engage in farming on their own account. Many of them became quite well to do. Some of the best farms in this neighborhood were made by these Irish settlers, who started from a small beginning, and the development of this part of the county is largely due to their enterprise and industry. Among these early settlers who contributed their part to this flevelopment, anil whose farms are within a half mile of where we are n<jw standing, are the following: William Morrow, whose location has alread}- been mentioned: John Mooney, the Mahans, Samuel, James, John and Hugh : James ^lorrow, James Boal, Henry Greer. Robert Dixon, William Lawson, and others. The Andersons, who came about the same time, settled on a good farm, on the State road, abcjut four miles south of Princeton. All of these, and their descendants, were among the best citizens of the county.

Religious Habits Of The Covenanters

Taking them as a whole, the people of the neighborhood, over which we ha\e taken this retrospective view, were above the average for intelligence and moral integrity. It was a strictly religious community, in the days of which we write. The people were nearly all of the Reformed Presbyterian faith, better known as "Covenanters". Some were "Old Side" and some "Xew Side", but whatever side they were on each and every one adhered strictly to the faith. While their religious haliits were more jjnmounced on the Sabbath, it was not a "Sunday religion" that they ])racticed. FAery day in the week it was exemplified, especially morning ami evening, when the old family Bible was brought into service, and the old Psalms were sung and the long prayers were made. .\t this service, not only the children of the household were required to be jircsent and take part, but also the man-ser\-ant, the maid-servant, and the hired hands, and the stranger that happened to be- within the gates. The hired liand, perchance, might ht the man who drove three yoke of oxen during the day, and freely used expressions incident to such occupation, but that did not exempt him from singing psalms at the morning and evening worship. Everybody about the house knew when the Sabbath came, even the household dog understood that it was different from other days. Whatever inclination he might have to frisk and play on other days of the week, he learned, by instinct, that the frisky disposition should be suppressed on this day. No need of printed cards in\iting everybody to "go to church today." Everybody went, by force of habit and without persuasion, and they remained for the two long sermons, with a short interval between for the cold biscuit refreshments. Unless the occasion was unusual, they got home li}- three or four o'clock, ready for the simple meal, the most of which had been prepared the day before. The rest of the afternoon and evening was occupied in reading the Bible and such religious literature as Baxter's "Saint's Rest," studying the catechism, etc., closing the day with answering questions in the catechism by all, old and young, followed by the usual family devotions. And this is the way the Sabbath was observed by the Covenanters who peopled tliis community. Quite a contrast between this and the modern way, with the Sunday baseball and other amusements. There may be those who are of the opinion that the modern manner of Sabbath oliservance is more con(luci\'e to good citizenship and higher ideals of character and conduct, but the truth of history, antl a comparison of the jjast and l)resent citizenship, does nut sustain that opinion.

Schools And Schoolmasters

As most of these early settlers came from the South, where opportunities for education were usually limited, not many of them had an education beyond ability to read and write. But they knew the necessity of an education, and were concerned in providing better opportunities for their children than had been enjoyed by themselves. So the school house made its appearance very soon after the first settlement. The tirst school houses were of the primitive type, of course. They were built of logs, covered with clap-boards, wide chimney, built of sticks and daulaed with mud. Eurniture, split logs for benches, a rough board around the wall for a desk, and all the other appointments of corresponding simple character. One of these school houses was located near the Makemson home, as has already been mentioned. This, however, was somewhat in advance of some of the primitive type in its construction and furnishings. It was built of hewn logs and had glass windows.

and some benches made of plank. Anicmy the teacliers wlio wielded the birch at this place, fnr al>ility tn wield the birch was an essential re(|uisite for a teacher's (|ualilication at that time, were James McCcnnell. Nelson K. Crow, Monroe Barton. John Kell. Lewis A. Tdwnsend. and some others Ijeyond memory's recall. Of these. Mcmrue liartnn is still living, in St. Louis. Along about 185O the neighbors decided to build a better school house, in a more convenient place. A subscription was raised by which sufficient funds were secured to build a frame building, which was located on the road directly opposite the William Stormont residence. This was called the Greenwcxjcl school house, and it still stands, though a little distance from its first location. In deciding on the plans for this house, there was some contention among the subscribers to the building fund as to. the arrangements for heating. Some of the more progTessi\e were in favor of a stove, bi:t others argued that stoves were unhealthy and insisted that the old-fashioned fireplace was the only method that should be used in warming a school house. At one of the meetings in which this question was discussed, one of the most obstinate of the advocates for the fire-place said he had made a canvass of the neighborhood interested in the school and found a majority on his side. Some of those interviewed, he said, told him that there was more comfort in being outside in a cold day and seeing siuoke coming from a chimne\- that had a fire-place, than being insitle by a heated sto\e. And a majoiitN- of that meeting said, "them's m\- sentiments, too," anil so the fire-place was decided on. But it was not a success. A sto\e hatl to Ije put in soon after the building was first occupied.

Of the long line of teachers who have held forth here the most noted is one by the name of D. L. Summers. He tlrifted in (drifted is right) about 1857. He was introduced in the neighborhood by a man by the name of Anderson, who was teaching a geograjjhy school in the neighborhood at that time. Anderson's geography instruction was liy means of outline maps, set to music, and he made quite a hit with his method. He also made quite a hit for Summers, when he arranged for Summers to make a temperance lecture at the Greenwood school house. Summers made a p(n\erful speech, the greatest temperance address, the mo.st eloquent a])peal in behalf of that cause that had ever been heard in that neigiiborhood. He proved to be a man of fine education, a graduate of "\'ale College, he claimed. He applied for a school at that place and was enipli./yed at a compensation greater than was usual for teachers of that time. In his one term here he did not show any marked al)ility as a teacher, although he was a great scholar, .\fler one term.

The Lawrence school house, near the Dustin Mills home, was somewhat more progressive than others of the neighborhood. It was the first frame building and had many other advanced ideas as to appointments. The Lawrence school was more largely attended and usually had better teachers than any of the others in the neighborhood. The Page school house, near the Morrow place, was a frame building, and was the educational center for the youth of that vicinity. And then there was an old log school house hid away in the bushes, in an out of the way place, on Indian creek, near the David Stormont farm. About the only advantage one could see in locating a school in a place like that, was that it was so convenient to the brush from which a supply of switches could be obtained. There was no reason why there should be any delay in the "lickin' " along with the "larnin' " in that school, and, so far as the memory of this writer goes, there wasn't any delay in this exercise.

When the Civil war came, and there was a call for volunteers, the response made by the men and boys of this neighborhood was a credit to their loyalty and patriotism. It is not a matter of wonder that a community so largely composed of Scotch Covenanters should be loyal to their country, and be ready to make sacrifice, if need be, in defense of their convictions. They have a record for stalwart patriotism from their earliest history. In the Highlands of Scotland it is said of them that they were ever ready to do battle, or to sing psalms, and that they often engaged in both at the saime time. It is not strange, that in a community composed of families who had borne constant testimon\- against a national evil and, failing to eradicate or restrain that evil, had abandoned home and sacrificed property in the Southland, that they might get themselves and their families away from all the blighting influences of that evil; it is not strange that a community of such people should train up sons who would be ready to manifest the faith and convictions of their fathers. It is not a matter of wonder that these sons would be ready to manifest the supreme test of patriotism, when occasion required it. It is not a matter of wonder that the exemplary life and benign influence of such people should have an impression, not only upon the families of their faith, but also upon the entire community. The notable record Avhich was made by this neighborhood in enlistments in the Civil war must be attributed largelv to this influence.

In tlie neighborhdud comprising" the tour school districts tliat have been mentioned, a territory of about two miles square, something like one hundred men and boys enlisted in the army, most of them serving through the war. Man\ of them gave their lives in defense of the flag. Following are the names of those that can be recalled, and the regiment in which they served:

One .Hundred and P'orty-Thinl Indiana - Oscar .\ydclotte, .\nderson Makemson, Moses Griffin, J. W. Keith, Miller .Murphy. William C. Lawrence, Samuel Murphy, Conrad Grubb.