THE BEE-KEEPEMS' ItEVtEW. 



331 



of 'three years I used to run away from 

 home to play with a little girl living near by. 

 A high board fence surrounded the house 

 and garden, but by climbing upon a grind- 

 stone standing near the fence I managed to 

 reach the top of the fence and then drop 

 down "over the garden wall." When this 

 feat of mine was accidentally witnessed, the 

 grindstone was moved away. By persistent 

 search, I at last found a hole under the fence 

 at the further corner of the garden. It was 

 nip and tuck but I squeezed through. Great 

 was the wonder for several days how I es- 

 caped from the yard. I can remember 

 keeping my own counsel when I heard 

 "grandpa" say at the dinner table, "I 

 don't see, after I have move that grindstone 

 away, where under the sun that child gets 

 out." 



I was the eldest child, and when four 

 years old, father and mother and I went 

 west to Michigan. It seems strange, but al- 

 most the only thing I can remember of the 

 journey is standing and looking through 

 some glass doors at the great engine that 

 pushed the steamboat through the waters of 

 lake Erie. 



In Genesee county, on the very farm from 

 which I moved when I came to Flint, is 

 where my father located. It was literally in 

 the wilderness, my first recollection being 

 that of standing at the windows of the log 

 house and seeing father cut down trees that 

 they might not be blown upon the house. 

 Deer often browsed upon the twigs of the 

 fallen trees. Father made shingles right in 

 the house, and when a load was completed 

 there was the great event of a three-days 

 trip with them to Saginaw. How I did try 

 to stay awake (but always failed) the night 

 that he was expected home. 



As I older grew and becran to " roam the 

 wild wood o V e r," 

 how many times 

 have I fairly jump- 

 ed as the partrid^'e 

 sprang up with h 

 loud w-h-i-r-r from 

 almost under my 

 feet. How many 

 times have I seen 

 the ground in the 

 woods covered a s 

 with a purple mantle 

 by the flocks of wild " w. z." at :i(i. 



pigeons that settled 



down upon it in the spring to pick up beech 

 nuts. I have seen times when it seemed as 



though the sky was actually darkened by the 

 flight of these birds. 



Within forty rods of our house flowed a 

 stream perhaps a rod in width. There were 

 wide " flats " on either side, then high banks. 

 In the spring freshets these flats were 

 covered with a rushing flood that made the 

 small stream into a respectable river. I can 

 remember standing on the high banks and 

 thinking how grand looked the broad ex- 

 pause of rushing waters with the trees 

 standing so sturdily in their pathway. Dear 

 old Butternut Creek, how many, many miles 

 have I tramped up and down your banks ! 

 I believe that even at this late day I could 

 make a map of several miles of that stream, 

 putting in every little crook and turn. 



^Vhen mother came West she did not for- 

 get to bring the flower seeds, roots and cut- 

 tings, and how many times, when the June 

 roses come, do I think of the times when 

 myself and brother used to walk along a 

 woodsy path on our way to school, each with 

 his straw hat (made by mother) encircled 

 with a wreath of .June roses. One of the 

 clearest recollections of my earlier school 

 days is that of the persistent swallowing that 

 it required to keep down the lump that 

 would rise in my throat when I missed a 

 word in the spelling class and some one 

 spelled it correctly and went above me. 



When I was about eight or nine years old 

 father bought a pair of white steers six 

 months old. Wasn't that an event ? Didn't 

 they have a good bed to sleep on and lots of 

 brushing down and plenty to eat ? How 

 they were petted and led about and a little 

 yoke made and the work of " breaking " be- 

 gun in real earnest. They were all the team 

 we had for several years, and I can truth- 

 fully say that I was proud of them. 



I expect that my natural bent is for ma- 

 chinery. This trait early showed itself. I 

 early began the manufacture of windmills, 

 water wheels, sawing machines, etc. I well 

 remember working all of one entire summer 

 in the construction of a sawing machine. It 

 was all made of wood, but it had a regular 

 horse power with sweeps, a tumbling rod, 

 gearing, etc., and a bucksaw for a saw. I 

 visited every saw mill within ten miles and 

 knew exactly how all of the machinery was 

 arranged in each. I can remember feeling 

 bad to think that improvements would be 

 made in machinery after I was dead and gone 

 and I would not be here to see them. 



Oh, but the struggle for nails in those 

 days! Every nail that could be pulled out 



