Passing of the Years-part 4

(Editor’s note: This is a story written by Capitola Smith Booth, who lived in Old Town, surrounding area and Lime Springs 145 years ago. It tells of her life at age five to six. It reads a lot like “The Little House Books” of Laura Ingalls Wilder.
Everyone is invited to write or call and comment on the story or talk about your own memories “back in the day.”)

Gertie was growing fast then, her cheeks round and rosy. She was such a sweet one always. When Father came home, he had brought Mother a washing machine, the first we had ever seen or heard of. The three men and each gotten them, and there was rejoicing on the Prairie. Jane said, an organ, then a washing machine, what next? Mother said a sewing machine. Mrs. Cray had a baby boy, and it was a big fellow, and all were doing fine.

They were to have a spelling bee Wednesday evening at the School House; and every one was practicing for it. It would be mostly for the young folks, but a lot of fun to look on any way, and there would be pop corn and taffy later, over at the Munger’s. Harmey [Harmie] Munger spelled the first row down, on the word, Matthew. What fun they surely had from all we heard. Mother and Mrs. Farrington went only to Mrs. Munger’s and Diena stayed with the children at our house. It was a grown up affair.

Then, they were to have a debate in a few days over the merits of the Railroad going through, the advantages and disadvantages, if any. Cresco was thoroughly for the project, and it was time the thing was settled one way or another in Lime Springs. Chester was openly in favor of it, and would help in any way they could to further the matter.

How surprised they were at the crowd gathered there that night, the School House was nearly jammed, and the whole Prairie voted in unison for the railroad, only one doubting Thomas, and he was won over before the meeting broke up. It was very encouraging for every one. Mr. Marsh was so elated he hired more men to work at the mill. Uncle Ben had worked here every day all winter, was so glad for the steady work, and right at home, for he lived just across the road nearly, and looked after things.

Mother was so happy over her new washing machine. It was such a help, and she was through in half the time. The men were more than lucky to have gotten the three of them, but they happened to be right on hand to see them demonstrated. It was the first order, and they were lucky.

Mrs. Farrington came over to see how Mother liked it. She said: I just can’t believe it yet. Marble, her husband, had done the most of her washing this week and thought it great fun. And Mother told her Father had done ours, all the rubbing, and wanted her to pick up more clothes to wash.

Father told Mother the machine was her birthday present, which was the 7th of February, but he could not very well hide it until then, day after to-morrow. She was glad to have such a wonderful present for she had never dreamed of anything like it.

Mother was 24 years old and did not look it. She was always as slim as a reed and quick as a flash. She was working on Gertie’s new dress to finish it for her birthday, the 27th of February. We were going to sing together at the Sunday School rally in March and we were to wear our new dresses, if finished. Father told Mother he never in all his life saw any one as young as I have so much energy. I had to keep busy to be happy, and I loved to scrub, all my life, if I felt a little sunk, I could work out of it with a pail of suds and a brush, or broom. The boards out by the door way, I could cope with and scrub and scour to my hearts content. The boards forming the walk were gone over until they were neat as a pin in the sunshine and all was well with the world.

March had come in like a lamb. The snow and ice had all gone and Father was raking and taking the banking away from the house. He would soon have to help Mr. Marsh at the Mill. They were ready to lay the stones for foundation and walls of the stones.

Uncle William had written he was to be home in a few days, and would have some news to tell us. Mother and Father wondered what it could be, for we had not had a word from him in over 3 months. He was still doing work for the Government, and was well and hearty. When he came a week later, we hardly knew him, he had grown so much, he looked so fine and prosperous. He was to be married in a week or so to a widow with three children. We knew her, knew her people well. Her name was Safroma but called Froma. Her people lived on a farm about a half mile around the bend from Greenleafs Mill on the Chester Road. Mr. And Mrs. Jo [Joe?] Adams we knew had them for years. Mrs. Adams was with Mother when Gertie was born, and had named her Ella Gertrude. They were very nice people, and Froma, the daughter, a beautiful woman, tall and quite fleshy, dark hair and brown eyes, graceful and high spirited. We thought Uncle quite lucky, for she had many admirers and friends. They had kept it quiet until now, for he was to be sent to Isanti, Minnesota, as Assistant Postmaster. The Indians on a reservation near there, received their allotments from the Government at Isanti, and it took good strong men to handle them, and Uncle was fearless. So they were to be married very soon and move to Minnesota. Her folks were to go with them and settle in Anoka where Mrs. Adams’ sister and husband lived. Mother was sorry to loose [lose] her old friends, and she would miss Uncle, but glad for him to marry and settle down. She was surprised that they had been so quiet about it, but thought Uncle’s appointment had hurried things up, and it had. We all went to the wedding which was lovely and well attended, the first Sister and I had ever seen, and Mother had finished the new dresses for it. Uncle was so proud, called us his little red birds. Her children were some older than we were, and so nice and friendly. Mother said we were cousins now. Uncle was always a real Father to them and they were fond of him.

Father was saddened to have them go away so soon, but happy to know Uncle was to have a real home. They were busy helping Uncle William pack. Mother had mended and washed everything needed for him, and now she had gone over to help Mrs. Adams. It was hard, the breaking up of the old home where they had lived for so many years, leaving many memories and old friends behind them. The tears came at the thought of a little mound at the foot of the garden where slept a tiny son they had lost so many years ago. Their only son living, Jonas Adams, was to go with them. He was married and his wife, Freelove and their four children made up his family; Emma, Elise, Della and Judson, the youngest, a boy. They were all driving through with their teams. Mrs. Adams was to take Spot, her favorite cow. She would be sure of milk, no matter where she was. They were finally on their way, and we were feeling lonely. They had urged Father to sell out and join them, but that was out of the question for they loved it here.

Lincoln was assassinated April 14, 1865, and it cast a gloom over the whole country. April had come and gone through all the upheaval. Father was busy every day at the mill site, which Hyram Marsh and the crew of men grading and mixing mortar for the stone work. They were anxious to get through and get back to their plowing and seeding. Finally they had completed up to the second story, window frames fitted and door jams in, when the blow fell like a bomb shell at their feet. Beautiful “Glen Roy” was to be only a dream town in the future history of Howard Co., Iowa. Why? What had happened? Was it the Railroad? Or was it the people? I do not believe it was ever thoroughly understood. It was reported that the Railroad found they would have to build three bridges across the river going through via Lime Springs, and they avoided bridges wherever possible. They were expensive, buying the right of way from the Government, and a great source of worry and care, as it was told, and the Railroad was laid out one mile south of Lime Springs, across the rolling prairie, where a new town was to be built and named, Lime Springs Station. It came as a blow, a great disappointment to the business population of Oldtown, as it was to be called from that time on. Others were relieved. They were not ready for anything so progressive as a Railroad, it seemed. There were plenty of cultured and high minded people in that old village, just the same, and it was shown in the way they rallied to join hands in the new enterprise.

The people of the prairie, south and west, were benefited by the change. It was more direct for them. It was a big relief to have it settled, nearly every one concluded it would be a nice one in the end, the new location.

Mr. Marsh proved his metal; he was not daunted by the failure of the Glen Roy Station to materialize. Said they had lost a little and gained a lot, and never was a sore head through it all. He gave the Railroad the right of way across his farm and never lost anything by it. It would be sometime before they could complete the road, probably another year.

Father was glad to be back at home, and we were happy to have him. There were the crops and garden to get started again. Father would try to manage alone this spring, with his team of oxen, for they were broken into the work, strong and reliable.

Was Father disappointed in the new arrangement? I hardly think so; for he said it was all in the hands of a wise providence, he felt sure.

Mr. Marsh was as jolly as ever, and managed to make the men who had worked for him, and with him, see it as an adventure, and to know that nothing had just happened. It had all been planned for the good of all, as would be seen later. The people were helped by his vision of the future.

Mr. Hewitt and Charlie Paddock drove over to see Father and brought us lovely lilacs to set out, and of course talked over the new plans for the Railroad, and they agreed with Father that everything would be better for all, as would be seen in the near future. The clouds were lifting and the future looked bright.

The robins were here, hopping around, picking up material for their summer homes. An old blue jay was scolding his mate because she had not stayed at home and tended to things as he had told her to do, did she want to loose [lose] the best location again this year? A wild canary and his bride had taken up quarters in the maple tree, near the garden and sang as they worked, spring is here and work to be done. Mother had boxes and pans filled with tomato plants around in sunny places. Our hams were in the smoke house. I loved the odor of the hard wood chips and cobs that smoked them. Father would dig some horse radish to grate and make the relish to eat with the ham, for as he said, it needed that to make it taste right. Our hens were doing their share in laying eggs.

Mother asked Father what he had planted in the big round bed, freshly spaded and seeded apparently. He said, Why? I don’t know. I thought you had fixed it. Well! That’s funny, Mother said, some one has made us a flower bed and I wonder who? And what they planted. It was Mrs. Farrington, she owned up. It was full of petunias, her favorite flower, and she had hoped they would not notice until they came up, bless her heart. She had her yard filled with them, and the air was sweet with their fragrance when blooming. She had gone over one day when we were gone, to make the bed for Mother, who so admired hers.

Our calf was growing and we would keep her, later we would have another cow. Father had been over to see Mr. Farrington, and had brought a couple of hams back to smoke for them, as he was a good hand at it, and they usually did not bother to smoke them, but were delighted to have Father do it for them.

Mother had gone over to Mrs. Crays to see the new baby. He was a lovely little fellow and Mrs. Cray was fine. So glad to see Mother. Jane was housekeeper and Mrs. Cray said she was really having a vacation. Jane was to stay home for the summer and we were to have a new teacher, Hattie Stalker from town. My heart was broken, and I told Mother I did not want to go to School any more. I could not think of School without Jane for I loved her dearly. But Mother told me the new teacher was a lovely girl, and I would be happy after I got acquainted. She was as pretty as a picture, a slender thing with curls all over her head, quick and graceful. A teacher in every sense of the word, and she took lots of pains to make us understand everything. They were very lucky to be able to get her, yet I did feel lost for a long time, without Jane. I admired her for she always was so neat and trim looking, a little lady, but not as motherly as Jane. She drove out from town every day, sometimes a nice young man brought her, but more often she came alone.

Sister was lonesome when I went to School. She knew nearly all my lessons, for I had a new reader and spelling book, and took them home to study. McGuffie Reader and I think my spelling book were the same. We each had slates and pencils and we learned to draw pictures, with a little help from Father.

We had a long letter from Uncle William and his wife. They were at last settled. He liked his work but Aunt Froma was home sick for something better than drunken Indians, for they had so little understanding and confidence in the white people. Were so treacherous and sly. One night they came to the house and surrounded it, were going to kill Uncle, but the squaws were ahead of them, and drove them off. Uncle slept peacefully through it all, he said they were only out to scare him, and he was not the scarry [scary] kind. The Squaws would do anything for Froma, wash, scrub, or hoe in the garden. She was kind to them and they were hungry for kindness. Uncle had to make out their checks and the Indians were suspicious at first, but came to realize his honesty and kindness, and things were growing more peaceful. All was well and the children in school.

Sister and I were to have a little garden all our own. Father would show us how to make it. It was a real joy to watch him as he worked, for it was all done by a line with stakes at each end to wind the cord around, after he had the ground ready for planting, so every row was straight and orderly, as he sowed the seed or put plants in. And this year, he was making flower beds here and there to make it colorful, as Mrs. Farrington did. He said it would be like a little park, and it was. We were all to help keep the weeds out.

It was a beautiful summer for us all. The birds seemed to feel there was some special reason for their helping in the lovely concerts they gave us daily, and we learned so much by watching them and listening to their songs. When one has time to follow the birds as they build and nest, you get worlds of pleasure out of it, not only pleasure but understanding of their ways and wiles. I feel a real sorrow for children who have never had a taste of country life as Father taught us. Not only the birds, but the insects, toads, and the garden snakes were all explained to us as useful in the garden and we were not to fear them, or hurt them, but make friends with them by not molesting them. It seemed as if Father could make anything interesting as he explained about it.

Mrs. Marsh came over one day with Mr. Marsh. She had more ducks than she could care for, and wondered if Mother would like to share hers. Father thought it would be fine to raise a few of them. Ducks were good eating, so we soon had a duck family to care for. Mrs. Marsh was so interested in our garden and was going to put flowers in as Father had. Mrs. Adams had given Mother such a lot of flower seeds and roots more than she needed, so Mother divided with her and Father told her how to arrange for the best effect.

The Prairie would bloom later and give a lot of pleasure to flower lovers. We kept the folks for dinner and they did seem to enjoy it. Mr. Marsh never got over the fun he got out of our runaway, through the creek that wild day. He said he would have given a dollar to have been with us. Mother told him he could have had her place for two cents, along with the black and blue spots. Yet she had become very fond of Tom and Jerry, they were as gentle as a pair of kittens, and they were invaluable to Father on the farm, but she did hate to go to town with them, false pride, Father said.

The hams were smoked and in the wood shed covered and ready to slice. Mr. Farrington said they had forgotten how good smoked meat was, and he told Father he would furnish pigs if he would do the smoking, so we had a couple of little porkers in a few weeks, to watch grow and feed again.

Our apple trees were growing and looked so thrifty, covered with leaves. It had been so mild, nothing seemed to have winter killed.

Mr. Hasset, County Surveyor, and an old friend of ours, was coming out to survey the land. Father wanted to be sure of our boundary lines. Shorty helped Father for a few days to get the crops in, working at the Mill had rather held Father up, but a few good days with help. Would have everything ship shape. The weather was fine.

Father had made a lattice screen in front of the toilet, and Mother planted morning glories around it, and at our West window in the kitchen, and put vines around the smoke house. It would not be used again for a year, only to put garden tools in and the big old iron kettle she some times took down to the little stream where she had the soft water to wash with and hang the clothes on the clean bushes to dry. It was shady and cool to do the work, only Father hated toteing [toting] the washing machine and tubs down there, but he would do it always when hot and dry.

Goodness sake! Aunt Mandy had a little daughter, 3 weeks old, and they named her Charity. Mother so longed to get a chance to see them, and Sunday Mr. Wells drove up. He knew Mother was longing for just such a chance and away they went in a few hours. Mother stayed 3 days and Diena took care of everything so Mother was not worried. Father was always completely lost without her, but survived as usual. Yet no one cooked like Mother, or knew where everything was, the old dear.

Mother came home, safe and sound. The little visit had done her so much good, for she knew everything was well and such a precious little girl. Grandma was real well and all the others. They had a young girl doing the housework. She was willing and strong, so Mother had nothing to worry about in leaving.

We had lived on the Prairie over a year now. It was our home and we loved it. I had grown to like my teacher as I became better acquainted with her but she never quite filled Jane’s place in my heart. She was kindness itself and we all admired her pretty clothes and ways. Once she brought her sister-in-law out for the day. She was Henry Stalker’s wife. He ran the Drug Store with Eugene Marsh, at Oldtown, was a beautiful blond, and very clever. She taught penmanship at the Craig Academy in town. School would be out for the summer very soon, and we were to have last day exercises. Gertie was to sing with me. We all sang or spoke pieces. Then Teacher gave us lovely cards, my how we did cherish them. I kept mine for years. We had Teacher over one night for a little visit, and how she and Mother did talk and exchange piece blocks and ideas.

Mother was helping Father set out the tomato plants. She made a big ginger cake before she started, we did get so hungry out in the fresh air, then we always had breakfast early. We loved bread and butter with brown sugar sprinkled over it, and Mother would fix it for us, while Father had a snack about ten o’clock. Our ham was so good with the nice fresh eggs, horse radish grated and ready to eat over it, and big baked potatoes. When our potatoes were getting low in the cellar, Father opened the pit. They were as firm as if just dug. Everything had kept well, and we had plenty of vegetables to last until the new crop came.

Mr. Hasset came just before dinner and Mother was glad she had made the ginger bread, for he so enjoyed it. He was such a dear man, such a gentleman. It was always a treat for us to have him with us. I don’t think he ever married, he lived with some old friends, near Howard Center, south east of Lime Springs. He had made some little baskets out of peach stones for us children. We were delighted with them for we had never seen any like them. He told Mother how much he had enjoyed her good bread, let alone the fine dinner. He had brought Father some specimens he had picked up, and they were examining them through the eye glass. Said I expect there will be a lot of these turned out and unearthed by the Railroad, as it cuts through the country. Father said, I was just thinking of that. Mr. Hasset said then, I don’t suppose the farm will be able to hold you when the new town starts? Father told him there was a lot to be considered. He did not want to hurry into anything that he might regret. Neither did he want to loose [lose] a good opportunity.

Hyram Marsh told me, he expected to move with the crowd, he is making no bones of it. Also our old friends, the Hewitts are talking along the same line, for Clark is not able to do heavy farm work any more. Would like to go into some business he could handle. There will be plenty of changes from now on, Mr. Hassett said. You know, first come, first served. Father told him he felt there was no great rush, he wanted to take time to sound things out thoroughly. Said, I can make a living right here, but I think I have a good trade, and I like it, but whether it would pay me to leave the farm and depend on it, entirely for my living, is the question to be decided. And you know, turning to Mother, my wife has her right in this, as well as I. Mother spoke up then and told them she was willing to do whatever seemed best for Father. If he wanted to work in town, she wanted to be there with him,. She would be happy wherever he was.

The surveying had been done and Father now for sure, knew his boundary lines were right.

The country was at its best, everything so lovely, the woods full of mandrake blossoms, so sweet in their fragrance, along with the wild violets that carpeted the pathways. Our morning glories a riot over the trellis in front of the little cottage and over the west window. The petunias were in blossom, and you could scent the lovely fragrance every where. The garden flowers added much to the look of the garden. It was really like a little park.

The canaries had been such a pleasure, for we had their songs all summer, as they nested and raised their young, teaching them to sing and fly. They would answer the meadow lark’s call, early mornings, and try to imitate the larks. Early you could hear the boom, boom, boom of the Prairie chickens, telling you the day had begun, it was time to go to work.

Father had a cold, and it had settled in his chest. Mother made mustard plasters and had rubbed between his shoulders with goose oil, but nothing seemed to loosen that cough. She had made her old stand by vinegar stew, but still he had that mean cough, what should she do? Mrs. Farrington happened over and she took Father in hand. Have you any New Orleans molasses? She asked Mother. The jug was empty, but there was plenty of sorghum – No, she would run home and get some of her molasses for she always used that. Have you any castor oil? Yes, Mother had a full bottle. She was soon back with the molasses.

I just make a candy out of this with one tablespoon of vinegar, and a good teaspoon of castor oil added, just as it begins to get stiff. She was soon ready for the oil, and as she had both hands full stirring the candy, she asked Father to pour it in. It was cold and ran slowly, so that it was hard to tell a spoonful, but it was at last all mixed and ready to cool and pull so it could be cut up into pieces.

It did look nice. Now, Mr. Smith! Eat a little of this, off and on all day, and drink plenty of water. It won’t hurt the children to have a little of it too. Father nibbled and chewed candy all day, but Mother kept an eye on we children and said we must keep most of it for Father for he must get that cough loosened up. Next morning, his cough had loosened, and with it, most everything else inside of him, and his liking for molasses candy had gone. Mother had not indulged in the candy fortunately. She had her hands full and running over for a while with us children and Father. Father felt much better next day and could smile again, but did not want to eat, yet he drank his tea. Mother told him he looked as if he had been drawn through a knot hole, but could be thankful his cough was gone. He said, I am, but who would ever believe that candy could be so upsetting. In a very few days, he was feeling better than ever, and we children, good as new.

One day, he took Trim and went up in the woods, for he had noticed bees flying around, and hoped to get some wild honey. They did and came home for a pail to store it in. It was fresh and nice and how we feasted, then Mother put it away for extra occasions. Father had to go to the School House that night. It was the last meeting of the singing school for the season. When it was time for him to start, Mother said Why! Aren’t you going to change your clothes? He said, he was tired and who would notice. Mother said, John Smith, would you go looking as you do when every one else will be dressed and neat? Are you their teacher? He groaned and started for the closet. Mother had his fine clean shirt laid out for him and she helped him into it. His Sunday boots were cleaned. When he came home, he told of the visitors from Oldtown, and of his relief in knowing he was presentable when they gave him a real oration. It was always that way, Mother watched over him as if he were her child. She was proud of Father, for he was so capable and intelligent, but clothes were the least of his worries.

I can never remember the time when we did not have the Scientific American Magazine in our home.

Father and Mr. Dana corresponded for years, and were old friends on paper, and years later he came to our home to see Father and his collection of specimens he had then gathered, all mounted and catalogued. Father was a fine geologist, for he had studied it thoroughly. It was a beautiful hobby for him, along with astronomy. He was such an interesting Father. I never could do enough homage to him if I praised him for ever. He was so wonderfully kind and thoughtful, yet he could be very stern, if the occasion demanded it. I must have been 9 or 10 years old before I can remember of his trouncing me. I had had a set to with Mother. We were both quick as a trigger in our tempers and I was going to run away. I started for the Rail road track (This was in town.) Father happened to come home just then, and Mother told him I was on my way out. He quickly followed me, and called me to come back. Much as I hated to, I knew it was final and back I came. He asked me what it was all about and I told him. He said, tell Mother you are sorry, for you did very wrong. I was not ready to make up, something had to be done, so he did it and quickly. He laid me across his bagging pants and spanked me. My heart was broken to think he would do a thing like that. I cried until my nose bled. Mother washed my face and told me to go lie down on her bed for a while. I went to sleep and when I woke up, I thought it was the next day, so my trouble caused me to loose [lose] time, some where along the way. Father then began to help me to govern my temper, as only he could.

Mr. Dana had sent Father some choice tobacco seed, and wanted he should experiment with it. So Father planted it and hoped it would mature before frost came. It did, and he had quite a crop of it. It was interesting to watch [it] grow and many of Father’s friends came to see it. Father followed directions for cureing [curing] it. It smelled good and strong. Mother was not very much enthused about it, as he tinkered with it, trying to use it. He coughed and sneezed. A Mr. John Downing who lived on the Prairie, and always smelled of tobacco, was one of the callers who was very much interested in it, and Father told him he was welcome to help himself. I can remember him filling a big basket several times and stowing it away in his cart. Mother hoped he would take it all. It was too strong for her taste.  As he came in to say good bye to her, he opened the stove lid and spat in the stove. She just looked, she was speechless.

When Father came in she told him to clean out the stove good and build up the fire, she wanted to get supper, if he could get it clean enough, and he did it with a grin, and thought he had better stick to store tobacco. It would be better for him.

Mrs. Farrington said she could smell it from their house. She was on Mother’s side all right.

Mr. Wells was interested in the railroad going through and wrote Father if he intended leaving the farm, and wanted to sell, to give him the first chance to buy. Things were closing in around us, it seemed, and fate might lead us to town.

Summer was past and we were into October before we realized it. The 24th of October was a wonderful day for us all, for it brought us a baby brother. Mother said she had ordered him for my birthday, the 25th, but he had arrived a little ahead of time. They named him William Alfred after his two Grandfathers. He was so little and so adorable. It was so new to us to have a baby to love and care for. We had a girl to do the work and care for Mother, Addie Nye, her home was in or near Chester, on a farm. She was Diena’s niece, who was with us also, for over a week. It was real cold and the leaves were mostly off the trees, excepting the oaks. We were banked in again for the winter. Grandma was coming for a few days. Mother longed to see her. Father was so proud that he had a son, he had so hoped for one.

We children now slept up stairs and we thought it great fun, we slept later when it was quiet. Father also slept in the big bed up there. We had to learn to keep more quiet so not to disturb Mother and the baby. How well Grandma understood everything, and we watched her bathe the baby so deftly and gently. And she made things for Mother to eat that tasted good and were nourishing. She stayed until Mother was up and could care for the baby. Father made him a cradle and painted it red, the rockers were nice and tall. It was a snug place for baby and he loved it. He was such a good baby from the start and Mother said she hardly realized she had one. But Father insisted she was to keep Addie for the winter any way. She was willing and strong and loved being with us. Mother took her in hand later and trained her so she could cook and iron as Mother did. Diena helped with the washing, so we moved along through the winter comfortably and happy. We did not get out to see our friends as we always had, for Mother thought it best to keep baby home . . . such a happy little fellow, and so fair, his hair like gold, so very much like Father.

Addie went over home one day and I went with her. She was so afraid they would want her to stay, poor child, not much to go back to. They had a good farm, and a fairly good house but that shiftless Mother, no order, everything put any where. The Mother was young and strong, but her main thought seemed to be “to go visiting”, Diena had told us of her ways and warned Mother.

Addie had been the one to keep things going, and it was a burden for one so young. Her Father took her side and told her she could stay. He was thankful we would keep her. His wife might do a few things if she had to, and he would see to it she had the chance.

When Addie came to us, her hands were raw and cracked. She had worked out of doors so much. She loved helping her Father. Mother soon had them healed and showed her how to keep them that way, for we used camphor ice and mutton tallow on ours. Then her hair had been so neglected and now it was soft and clean, and she learned how easy it was to be really clean all over. She as so willing to learn and how she did love us all. She was starved for affection. Diena was so thankful she could be with us and she told her Father of the good it was doing her in every way.

One cold, blustery day, her Mother came over with her carpet bag and assurance, she was primed for a “visit”. Father had to go to Chester for kerosene and matches, and he told her she could ride home with him, he would go that way. They had eaten dinner and the work finished, she said, I thought I would stay a few days to visit Addie. Father told her he had no place for her to sleep, our beds were full and we could not make her comfortable. She said she could sleep any where. No! Father said, you will feel more comfortable in your own bed, and your husband will be looking for you. Mother! You help her to get her things on. She started out with Father but wanted to stop at a neighbors, so Father went on wishing the neighbor good luck. Poor Addie she was so grateful to Father for she was so afraid her Mother would spoil it

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