I had one peculiarity, any piece I had learned I could put the correct notes to and can to this day, whether I ever saw them or not.
On April 1st. l860 I went down to East Grantham then called Stockertown to live a year with a man by the name of Richard Clough. He was a shoemaker. The first Sunday was warm and after the morning service and Sunday school I and another boy went out and sat down and began to grin at each other. In that way we got acquainted and were good friends for many years. He became a lawyer and I dont know whether he is living, now or not.
My mother had to leave father, for although he was a kindhearted man he would throw down his tools where he was working and start for Canada. This occurred so often that it was too hard for mother with the large family of small children.
She went back to her fathers and had three rooms and kept the Postoffice; I with I could remember just how the letters were arranged. I think the postage was five cents. Each letter was put in a case furnished by the government and then tied with a string. The Postmaster would then write on the case the place the letter was to go. When it reached its destination the Postmaster there would untie the string, take the letter out and give it to the one to whom it was addressed. The mail bag was made of pigskin securely fastened and locked with a key the Postmaster kept. No one but the mail carrier and the Postmaster was allowed to touch it.
There were no daily papers then or Sunday paper. I sometimes wonder whether we need as many papers as we now have. No one has the time to read them all. Page after page of advertisements. Page after page of stock-market reports. I am as bad as the average man perhaps, but I dont care for the stock-market or the advertisements. I do take more papers than I have time or inclination to read.
Our home was not far from the blacksmith shop, owned by Saunders, every one called him Lyme. I was over there one day, probably grinning. Lyme began to smile--a beautiful smile and then to grin wider and wider till he suddenly put his face close to mine and yelled "What are you grinning about?" That frightened me and I ran home as fast as I could. No doubt he laughed to see me go. I remember the Minister who had preached there a year or two before '48 pausing through and called to see Lyme. He came out and stood with his hands On his hips looking at him, then he said"The same old hat, the same old coat, the same old hoss", then he turned and went back into the shop. But the Minister knew Lyme. He was one of the kindest men. If there was sickness in a family he was always right on hand to help in any way possible.
Speaking of this Minister's wife, she was a second wife and a queer specimen, when she called the children she would begin in a sweet voice "come children get up and hear the birdies sing, their praises to God Almighty get up."
There was an Irishman who came to live on the mountain. He had a large family, and was an honest hardworking man. He came down with Typhoid Fever. He was so crazy that it took two or three men to take care of him. One night there was Charles Clough, Henry Currier and Zebedee York, some how he hated York. All at once he jumped out of bed and tried to catch him. York got him back into bed. Then he said Charles is good and Henry is good but York damn him." He did not live long, and when he died his family scattered.
But I must tell you a story about York. The tanner died and York wanted the
widow,but his wife was living, and people didn't get divorce in those days. His
wife wasa frail little women sick in bed at that time. York went into the room
where she was and said "By Joll Rebecca the time has come for you to die".
You see he wanted the widow Chase awfully. But Aunt Beckky as every one called
her didn't die. I think she outlived York.
There were queer people in
that town when I was a boy but, I must leave them for the present and go on.
April lst. l861 I went to Stockertown, now, called East Grantham, to live with
Richard Clough for a year. He was a shoemaker. I remember the first Sunday
there were two sermons with Sunday school between. After Sunday school I went
out and sat down on the grass, in a warm place with another boy Wilbur Powers.
We sat and grinned a whil and so got acquainted. We were good friends for many
years. He became a lawyer. I haven't seen him for a long time. I dont know
whether he is still living or not.
Mr. Clough was the Janitor of the church which was not far from his home. He would go over and ring the first bell from the vestibule, then come home and get ready for church. When the proper time came he would go over and ring the last bell from a room over the vestibule. There was a little crazy woman who was always at church. One Sunnday when Mr. Clough attempted to ring the second bell he found that he couldn't, some one had hold of the rope in the vestibule. He mistrusted who it was so he pulled up on the rope till she was pulled to the ceiling, and had to let go and drop to the floor. She didn't try that trick again.
I don't remember very well about going fishing with Mr. Clough in Stocker- pond. It was in the late aftertnoon. We fished for pickerel for bait we used a piece of pork rind about one and one half inch long and one half inch wide,, The pickerel hook was pulled through the piece of rind near the end. Then the bait was thrown out as far as possible and moved a long, on top of the water with little jerks to imitate a frog swimming. A frog was the pickerel's favorite food after throwing out two or three time's and getting no pickerel the fisher-man would move along a little ways and throw out again. Sometimes it might be a half hour before he got a bite. This was the first time I had fished for pickerel. Mr. Clough told me that it was a good plan in going along the shore to let my bait skip along, on the water.Mr. Clough was perhaps fifty feet ahead of me. I was walking along jerking the bait when there was a tremendous swirl and the fish grabbed my bait. Mr. Clough heard it and turned to come back he told me to hold the pole still and let the pickerel swallow the bait. By that time he had reached me and pulled the flab in it was lucky he did for I dont believe I could have done it. The fish weighed five pounds. I dont remember that I ever caught as large a fish since, but I thought I could.
I remember I was planting peas for Deacon Goss, a near neighbor. He had me make a hole and step on it, then take the next hill. A large boy came along, and wanted me to go fishing with him. I said I couldn't I had to plant the peas. Oh well he said you have planted a lot you just make a hole and put the rest of the peas in it and cover them, and come along with me. I wanted to catch another five pound pickerel so I did as he told me and went fishing.The Deacon had seen the boy going over towards where I was working. He mistrusted what he was up to. The next day he asked me if I had planted the peas, I told him "yes", well he said I can tell when the peas come up, Oh dear! I hadn't thought of that.
That summer the Deacons daughter was married. Merril Clough lived of a mile from the Deacons. This Clough was a genius. He was as poor as poverty, but somehow he had got hold of a steamboiler shell. From this he manutactured a complete stationery engine, whistle and all. The day the deacons daughter was married he had it completed and when the party passed the shop he blew the whistle.
He afterwards went to --------on Winnippasaukee lake to work in a machine shop. One day a boat came in that was out of order some way. They had their mechanics come and after two or three days they couldn' t find out what the trouble was. Then some one said "Send up and got Clough". He came down and looked it over and told them to get up steam and I think it was only two or three hours before the boat went out. Poor Merrill! He died a drunkard!
The next winter there was a large school. I remember there was one young man who was kind to the small boys. Soon he was gone. I never saw him. He was killed in the war of the rebellion. I hate war. There was also a young man at the Northroad, a quiet studious boy. He disappeared. He was also a victim of the Civil War. After the kind young man left, the other large boys were hateful to the small ones. After the snow came they would throw us over the bank and keep us there until the 10 o'clock bell rang.
The first of the year there was no snow but fine skating, on Stockerpond a few rods back of the school house. Philmore Clough's boys made and gave me a sled. Clough hadn't told me I must not go on the pond. I didn't, but there was a narrow strip of ice where I used to sled. When my year was up Mr. Clough kept my sled. I think that was pretty small of him.
Well in January it began to snow and kept it up till there was more snow on the ground than I have ever seen before or since. In March there came a great hail then it it turned extremely cold which made a very hard and slippery crust. A man could skate on it any where. I remember at North road that "Jock" Hosting, hitched his oxen to a drag. Now called stone boat, took it up in the field where there was a large stone on top of a larger one, unhitched the oxen from the drag, got the top stone on the drag, aimed it and started it down the hill.
It went down across the road then across the level field, then across Grass Pond and into the woods beyond. A man went from North Road over the mountain to Meriden. The only place where he went in the road was when he crossed it. There was very little Maple sugar made that year. I remember Uncle Ezekiel Alexander and Uncle John Leavit took Captain Brown's sugar place on shares. This sugar place was long and narrow on the South East slope. To the North West there was a wide pasture and the wind had blown the snow over in the sugar place. When they came to take up the bucket, they had to use a ladder to get those that had been hung up.
That year at Stocker, town was my last Summer schooling. The next Summer I was at Squire Buswells in the North road. They had a large herd of cows and a pair of stags to use in plowing, getting in hay etc. They also had a bull three years old not really as heavy as the stags, but he was fighting them every night. Finally he conquered one, then he went for the other but he couldn't do it. Finally, he watched his chance when the herd was turned to pasture in the morning. It was down hill past the house and next the road there was a bank wall about three feet high. He made a sudden attack on the stag and pushed him down past the house and over the wall into the road. He was the boss and the stags knew it. He had no one to conquer. I stayed at the squires till Autumn.
Then mother sent me over to Justus Hayward to see if he would take me. He looked me over and examined my arm and concluded they were to small to be or any use so I went back home.
I went to school and in the early Spring, she sent me over to Uncle John Hastings. He wasn't any related but I always called him Uncle John. For two weeks I didn't do anything, but read what books he had. I remember one "The American Book of Battles". Ihen I had read all the books there were in yhe house he had me take the hand sled and draw some three foot wood he had chopped above the house, when sugar time came I used to go up with Aunt Annie, his wife's sister, and help gather the sap. Later when planting, and hoeing, then haying. After haying, I spent days pulling weeds in the corn, putting them in a bushel basket and carrying them out and putting them in a pile. Uncle John had no horse but a pair of oxen to do his work with, he never milked the cows, Aunt Mary and Aunt Annie did that. I remember his brother "Jack" had the first mowing machine in that neighborhood. It had one wheel and one shoe and was drawn by a pair or oxen. I think the cutter bar was only three feet long. It made a great racket when drawn through the grass.
The first winter I went home and went to school. Then back to Uncle Johns for another summer. I must tell you my last term of schooling. We had twelve or thirteen weeks beginning the first Monday in December, it was a large ungraded school perhaps of fifty or more pupils from the youngest learning their ABC to big boys of twenty one years. I was a good scholar especially in spelling. The first class in spelling was heard the last thing, before school was dismiased. We spelled "Taking up words" it was called. The class was called and we took our places a long time reaching across the school room. The one at the head would say number one and start for the floor. Then number two would come and number three until all were in their places. He would then see that we found a straight line and say "attention". All would bow. He would then begin at the head putting out words. If a word was misspelled he would pay no attention but go on putting out words. If one noticed the mispelled word when his turn came to spell, he would take up misspelled word and go above the one who had misspelled whan the words were all given out the teacher would give out the lesson for the next day, Then the one who had stood at the head would go to the foot and then the teacher would say "Attention". We would aske a bow and call our numbers as we marched to our seats.
One day the Superintendant was in with his daughter. I thought she was the prettiest girl I ever saw. I was near the head, one of the big boys down towards the foot spelled but he wasn't sure it was right. He looked up the class to me and I bowed my head. The teacher saw me and yanked me out into the floor and bowed my head, right in front of that pretty girl. Oh! I was awful mad. I said to myself "When I grow up I will thrash you." The teachers name was Foster Edwards. That humiliating incident was all I remember about him.
When I was coming fifteen I went to work for John Emerson, way back two or more miles from the North road. He had a large farm and back of it were thousands of acres, pasture and timber owned by the Enfield Shakers. They had large herd. of cattle and Mr. Emerson looked after them, repairing the fences etc. Some of the Shakers would come over once a week and salt the herds. Perhaps I will tell something of these people. They were a sort of religious cult originated by a woman, Anne Lee, in England. They called themselves "Vessels of Honor."