OLD HOMESTEAD 



I said that I did. Then we went on with our work. 



In about twenty minutes he again spoke to me, saying, 

 "Henry, hand me the crooked frow." 



I heard him plainly, as he sat on a block not five feet from 

 me. I knew what he wanted and intended to get it at once, 

 but, from force of habit or some unaccountable reason, I an- 

 swered up promptly, "H-e-y?" He raised up a little from the 

 block on which he sat and, reaching forward, gave me a cuff on 

 the side of the head with his hand which sent me about six feet 

 towards the east end of the woodshed, into the chips, shavings 

 and rubbish there accumulated. He did not say a word, neither 

 did I. The case was closed and didn't seem to need any argu- 

 ment. I picked myself up and got back to my place, handing 

 him the tool he asked for. At the time I felt that it was a very 

 severe and sudden punishment for the crime, but from that day 

 to this I have never used the word "Hey." 



Father was a stern and rather severe man in the control and 

 government of his children, particularly the elder ones; but this 

 and one other instance are the only times he ever struck me, 

 and upon both occasions it was because he was provoked be- 

 yond endurance. But in neither instance did he say a word by 

 way of lecture. The good effect of the castigation was not lost 

 or obscured by apologetic preaching. In fact, no explanation 

 was needed. I got the idea all right. It was good for me, and 

 made an impression which will last as long as I live, and to this 

 day I never hear that saucy and impudent interrogation, " Hey? " 

 but that I think of the "crooked frow" and the woodshed. 



39 



