He was not a good provider;
Grandmother did most of the providing. He wore a military coat
with brass buttons, and red-top boots. He believed in spooks and
witches, and used to tell us spook stories till our hair would
stand on end.
He was an expert trout fisherman. Early in the morning I would dig
worms for bait, and we would go fishing over in West Settlement,
or in Montgomery Hollow. I went fishing with him when he was past
eighty. He would steal along the streams and "snake" out the
trout, walking as briskly as I do now. From him I get my dreamy,
lazy, shirking ways.
In 1848 he and Grandmother came to live near us. He had a severe
fit of illness that year. I remember we caught a fat coon for him.
He was fond of game. I was there one morning when they entertained
a colored minister overnight, probably a fugitive slave. He
prayed--how lustily he prayed!
I have heard Grandfather tell how, when he was a boy in Connecticut,
he once put his hand in a bluebird's nest and felt, as he said,
"something comical"; he drew out his hand, which was followed by the
head and neck of a black snake; he took to his heels, and the black
snake after him. (I rather think that's a myth.) He said his uncle,
who was ploughing, came after the black snake with a whip, and the
snake slunk away.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63