Cordrey Family Record

A handwritten account , ca. 1891, of the Cordrey family by Francis Cordrey (1838-1917). The ledger in which it is written is owned by his great-grandson Charles Horn, and was transcribed from the original by Laura Munson Cooper

Family Record

     It is to be regretted that no history or record has been kept of the Cordrey family. In view of this, and that our children may have at least some account of the lives of their parents I undertake to write this record from such knowledge I may have, and from such facts as I have obtained from others, who by reason of their position or conection with the family, can be relied on as good authority.

     Perhaps the first trait of character I should pen down is the equilibrium in the social scale of life, for which the Cordrey family has been so well known. It has not been so loaded down with vice and immorality, that it sunk beneath the plane of reason, neither has it ever become so light and puffy by reason of the vain conceits of aristocracy, and of the false notions that so often grow out of wealth, that it became lighter than air and raised up into space of blue nothing. But, so closely has it adhered to the equal law of weights and justice that so far as the family is concerned, prison and alms-houses would never need have been built, neither would there be any people so soft and silly as to think labor degrading, or that a common laborer was beneath a common idler dressed in silk and stuffed with vanity.

     Whatever may have been the avocation in life of the Cordreys, they were usually known as honest hard laborers, and their high aim in life was to know that they earned their own food and clothing by the sweat of their brows and with their own hands, they seemed to abhor the idler or non producer, however rich or poor they may have been, with a feeling a kin to hatred, and always regarded them as a useless something God did not intend should exist on the earth, though perservereing and industrious, none of them were ever known to accumulate much wealth, and the only reason assignable for their mediocrity in wealth is, that the poor and needy always found an asylum within a Cordrey's door, and churches, schools and charitable institutions of every kind, always found a Cordrey's house a grand place in which to pass the hat around for a collection of funds to defray expenses, and might also state here that after a church benediction the minister with a large portion of his flock, might be seen winding their way toward some Cordrey table for refreshments and lodging, where they could be had as free as the air of heaven, and as good as the host of the house could furnish.

     One particular trait in the Family perhaps, more noticeable than any others, is the honest manner in which they tranacted business among themselves, and with their fellow-men, in short their word was as well received as was their signature on paper; and with them, no settlement was considered complete untill the last cent of indebtedness was paid, and so firmly were the principles of honesty rooted and founded in their whole being that they believed all mankind, as a rule, strictly upright, and by, and through this missplaced confidence in others, often suffered financial losses which, in connection with their charitable gifts, was no small factor in keeping them from accumulating wealth.

     And, we are proud in saying, that no Cordrey, with but very few exceptions if any, ever had his pants buttoned around enough of intoxicating liquor to robb him of his senses or to disqualify him for good society. 'Tis strange, yet true, though they may not belonged to any church, or to any temperance society, yet they invariably regarded the low and brutish actions of a drunkard with a detestation that seemed to know no bounds.

     We must admit, that the Cordreys, as a rule, or as a whole, are not noted for very fine religious sentiments and seemed to have lived and flourished in the garden of morality alone, more than in the sunny fields of spiritual faith, or in the dark, and dismal swamps of vice, though they have not been practical believers in the Word of Truth, they have not been unbelievers; and though they have not practically acknowledged the existence of a God, they have not been atheists, but we are glad to say, that some of them lived for Christ alone, and for the glory promised the righteous beyond the grave.

     We cannot say that any Cordrey ever attained to a high degree of learning, or became eminent as politicians and statesmen, they seemed to have contented themselves in seeing others crowned and in drawing rich salaries from office.

     Though they may not have been desirous of handing down wealth in the way of dollars and cents to their posterity, yet, they were exceedingly anxious to hand down a good name in politics, as well as, in social affairs, and chose for this legacy, the Whig party and the Republican party.

     It is true, and must be here admitted that a few of the descendants of this family seem to have fell from grace and are found in by and forbiden paths, but it is generally conceded that, if you meet a Cordrey you meet a republican.

     And as for love of country or loyalty, we have only to say, that the muster roll of volunteer soldiers of our Nation, will show, no doubt, a greater per cent of the Cordrey name than can be found in any other name having the same number of men subject to soldiers duty, especially was this noticeable in U.S. war of 1861-5 when there was not an able bodied Cordrey left at home to play copper-headism even had he been vile enough to have done so, and what is still to their credit is, that they are volunteer soldiers, not drafted nor substitues, and all of them can show an honorable discharge from the service.

     We will now take up the family in detail and record such facts as we may have at hand belonging to the individual, much regreting our inability to do the subject before us justice, or in that way that will meet the approval of the reader.

Thomas Cordrey

     Thomas Cordrey, our great Grand father, came from Scotland about the year 1740, and settled down in Maryland, and resided in that state near, I am informed, a town called Crysup and was a soldier throughout the Revolutionary war, suffering with his comrads many of the severe trials recorded in history, and being a man of great physical strength and endurance, was generally detailed on perilous expeditions.

     The writer regrets to say, that he has so little information to record of the life of this man who as a pioneer of our Country, set his cabin up before the face of hostile indians where, no doubt, they often looked at each other through the sights of their guns, having no better telescope at hand.

     We cannot for a moment think, that this man remained at home idle throughout the French and Indian war, but think that his feet, when needed, were always found on the red foots trail, and his gun spoke with the eloquence of thunder in behalf of his country and home, and will say, Dear reader, if you know the history of any pioneer of those days you know the history of Thomas Cordrey who lived to the remarkable age of 106 years old.

     His wife was of Irish descent, and am informed that her maiden name was Bryan, and was a faithful bosom friend through all of his hardships and, if you have a knowledge of what women suffered and endured in those trying days, you know more than the writer of this narative is able to tell you. Think of a lone woman, with several small children, and a babe in her arms, with no other protection between her and the murderous savage than an ax standing behind the door, and you have a picture of our mothers in those trying years in frontier life.

     Yes, those good old mothers, instead of fainting or swooning away, as is the fashion or habit of today, tossed their babe on a pile of leaves or straw, and with a hand of a warrior, raised that ax above their heads and sent many a red skin to the happy hunting ground they so fondly dream of.

     The result of their happy union in marriage, was the raising of nine children, viz. Isaac, Thomas, Nathan, Noble, Jacob, Shepherd, Bennet, Polly and Betsa.

Nathan Cordrey

     Nathan Cordrey, our Grand father, was born in the State of Maryland, about the year 1776, and when he became a man he settled down in Tuscarawas County Ohio, near the town of New Cumberland, and was married to Dorcas Jane Ayres about the year 1798 and raised a family of eleven children, Viz. Thomas, Pega, Comfort, Diana, Moses Ayres, Dina, Riley, Polley, Jacob, Charles and Jane.

     Grand father's occupation was that of a teamster, and hauled dry goods etc from Baltimore and Philadelphia City with a six horse team, over the mountains to New Philadelphia Ohio, and was regarded as one of the most expert wagoners of his day, and so lively and entertaining in his conversation, that his company was the life of the hotels, and his name was well known all along the line.

     Year and years he followed that avocation through sun, rain, mud, snow and cold, never ceasing, never tiring as if all depended on his exertion for life, untill old age and a sad accident took him from his arduous duty. The accident occured in crossing a bridge when the plank in front of the wheels, shoved up on top of one another, and against his leg, tearing the flesh off of both of his legs from the ankles up to his knees leaving him a cripple the rest of his life. The wounds never fully healed over, and never did I hear him murmur or complain of his suffering, though he lived many years after the accident occurred. Previous to his moving to Ohio, it seems he must have lived in Georgetown, now a part of Washington City, for some time as I often heard him speak of that town, and of his working on what he called a keel-boat on the Potomac River, and of his being called the "Bulley" on the river, and I have heard him and other parties say, that his method of fighting was not to pound and hammer his antagonist, but to conquor him by means, if milder, were certainly not less painful to endure.

     For instance, It had been arranged by the boatmen on the river, that Bulley Cordrey, and another Bulley boatsman, should fight to a finish to determine their superiority in that art to the satisfaction of claimants on both sides. Cordrey was a scientific wresler, and had that qualification powerfully backed up in the way of muscle strength and activity.

     The boats had all been fastened by their moorings, by the shore side, and on the bank a beautiful pasture sod selected for the battleground, and the two champions brought up face to face, and toe to toe, all things being ready, the signal for the contest was given, when Cordrey tripped his opponents feet from under him, and as quick as a flash of lightning the two men were in a horizontal position on the earth with Cordrey on top, and as quick did Cordrey grabb into a cow-manure pile with both of his hands and plastered his enemies eyes nose and mouth completely shut with that material, which ended the battle to the perfect satisfaction of all concerned.

     In the first year of grand fathers settlement in Ohio, he killed 70 deer and 4 bears, and I have often heard him speak of a little occurrence that happened one moonlight night, when he and grandmother, went out to kill turkeys. Grand mother was to remain at a certain place, while grand father would make a circle around her in the woods in search of turkeys, and when he was quite a distance from her, he saw on a tree between him and the moon, a turkey, which his never failing gun brought to the ground, and also, one that was perched over grandmother's head unknown to either party, he picked his turkey up, and went to grand mother, and was surprised to find her holding a big gobler up in her hands, which fell at her feet killed by the same ball that killed the turkey in grand father's hand.

     Perhaps it may not be considered out of place to here record another circumstance connected with the life of Nathan Cordrey. Those who knew him best, knew that though he was not a living advocate of the religion of Christ, he was not intentionally a very wicked sinner, and he seemed to be profoundly impressed with the glory of a hereafter, and of the terrible consequences of those who forget God, but, he was so full of sport that at times he seemed willing to sacrifice some of the good things promised in Heaven for a little fun here below. Grand Mother, however, on the other hand, could not think of giving up one moment in glory for all that is earthly, and desired above all else that she and her house might be saved, and in view of that end, earnestly plead grand father to give his heart to the Lord and to join church. Grand Father concluded in his own mind, that at least, he would go through the outward forms of the church and put an end to her pleadings, so he allowed his name to be put on the class-book, and heard the shouts of joy from the members of the church better had this been the only rite to go through, but alas, there was yet the ordinance of baptism, and that too by immersion. On the banks of the water where the opperation or ceremony was to be performed stood the people from far and near, both saint and sinner, all curious to see this queer man baptized, and perhaps never did a man wear a more solemn face than did grand father while the minister was leading him down into the water where he permitted himself to be completely buried in baptism, but in coming up out of the water he cried out,

     "Snake Bit Poison."

     Nothing but a well carved picture here could fully show the difference in features that saint and sinner wore, when the above declaration sounded in their ears. I have often thought that, then would have been a good time to have separated the sheep from the goats, because the true character of each individual was clearly set forth by the face assumed features of all the beholders. He did not intend the expression to reflect on the cause of religion or its principles, as being venomous, but it was a spontaneous outburst of the great fountain of fun that played on the altar of his heart.

     Grand father became quite childish in his old days, but not more so than did a pack of youn[g] lawyers in New Philadelphia in making the old man believe that the Queen of England had made him a present of $55,000,000 for a supposed diamon[d] stone found in his earlier days. None but those who had the old man to take care of know the trouble and vexation that those imps properly belonging to the black world caused, especially to grand mother, who cared for him through months and years as patiently as if he was a small babe, untill the messenger of death took him away and relieved her from that duty.

     Grand Father died in the year 1859, at the age of 83 years, and now sleeps in the Cemetery at New Philadelphia O. with hundreds of people whose wants he so faithfully supplied through many years in the way of food clothing etc. with his team.

     Rest grand father, thy work is done,
          Thy team need no longer toil,
     For now the cars do go and come
          And tread on smoother soil.

Dorcas Jane Cordrey

     Grand mother, Dorcas Jane Cordrey, comes next, but my pen drops. I am not fit to write her biography, her history should be written with a pen refined and tempered by an inspired hand. When I write that she was a beautiful woman a loving wife, a dutiful mother, a perfect child of God, such modifying elements do not seem to fully set her forth in her true character. If she was raised in the back woods and never had any other home than a log cabin, she now wears jewels as bright as any other woman's in the Kingdom of Heaven. Her life, like many other women of her day, was not one of pleasure and ease, all material for domestic use, had to be manufactured from the bosom of the earth by their own hands, while ferocious beasts and savage indians, prowled around their doors.

     How different with the women of today, thousands of them live in cities, seemingly of no use to themselves nor to any body else other than to gad about, exhibit their fine robes, and to talk about women who work as being their inferiors, no, many of them do not even comb their own dirty heads.

     Grand Mother's hands were never idle when work was to be done, in fact she never ceased to work untill old age admonished her to quit, but, even then, and up to the time of her death, her knitting needles could not stop, but ever continually applied to keep the feet of those warm, who could do hard labor.

     She was so mild, so pleasant, so cheerful, that it was always a pleasure for her children to take care of her, and was always welcome in any of their houses, and it seems to me, that I see her standing before me now, with tears in her eyes, as she stood when I was preparing to go to the war of 1861-5. I had went down to the spring of water to wash, and was returning, when she met me on the path holding out in her trembling hand a tiny needle-book, no doubt made by her own hands and said, "Here Francis is all I have to give you, take it, and remember me, after you go away, we will never again meet in this life," and raising her angelic hands and eyes toward Heaven, plead in the sweetest tones of love, that I should meet her up There. I told her that I hoped to return and to meet her again. No, no, she said, my time is near at hand when I must go.

     Some people can talk religion in such a beautiful way, but this dear woman could act religion in such a sweet way that it never failed to leave a lasting impression, and those who knew her, had no doubt as to her cincerity.

     I had not been in the army long before a letter from home informed me that my grand mother had gone up There. I say up there, using the term she used for Heaven, firmly believing that if ever a being went direct from earth to that Place, she did, and that if ever a mortal soul was immortalized and made worthy of a crown of eternal life, that she is now wearing that crown, glittering and dazzling with such jewels as only Heaven can afford.

     Grand Mother died in the year 1863, and was buried by the side of her husband at the age of 82 years.

     No monument can mark her tomb,
          As high as her soul has flown,
     From the shores of this earthly gloom,
          To the riches of Gods Throne.

Philip Black

     No record having been kept of the lives of grand father Philip Black, and grand mother Catharine Black, the lives of mothers parents have been buryed in the field of the past by the falling moments of time.

     The writer in his search for notes, has not been able to find an incident in the life of Philip Black, that would be of interest to record, we only know that he was a plain industrious Pennsylvania german, which leaves the impression that he was a useful man. He was born about the year 1770, and married to Catharine Baughman about the year 1798, from which union there were born to them nine children Viz. Lucinda, Elizabeth, John, Lovis, Abraham, Peter, Hannah, Jacob and Isaac, all of which, with their parents, are now sleeping in the cold ground, waiting for that call that shall reunite them where each shall live a living history of their lives now unknown to us.

     Grand father Black at an early date, settled down a few miles south of Canton, O. on the wagon road leading from that city to Sandyville, where he resided up to the time of his death, which must have been about the year 1825.

     Grand mother Black was born about the year 1772, and was of Pennsylvania german birth, and to those who know the history of that people, I need not say that she was taught how to work.

     She was about 5 ft 6 in. tall, and well formed, having large gray eyes of a bluish tint, hair so dark and glossy that old age refused to destroy with white paint, and she had a natural body, not fashioned like that of a wasp or two sections of sausage by the wrapping of a string between them.

     She was strictly brought up through the Dunkard faith, which means that she did not talk about other people to their injury, and was so still that she was known to company better by sight than from hearing.

     Sixteen of the closing years of the life of this dear womam, is the extent of time, that the writer has personal knowledge of her life. She lived with her children in one sense, and in another she did not. It seems she preferred to live near, and with her daughter Hannah, but had a love for all her children, that showed but little discrimination. She did not want to be in the way of others, or in any way give them trouble, so father arranged a little house for her in his dooryard in which she lived and cooked her food, and though forty five years ago, it seems I can yet see her sitting before her little fire place, with her index finger on her nose, while the others formed a rest for her chin, what a peaceful quiet face resting in the frill of her cap, though I can see the marks of many years on her brow I can see no mark of sin. If the face is a mirror, in which the soul can be seen, then I see a soul as free from sin as it is possible for a mortal to be, a soul ready at any moment to meet its God.

     I will never forget my insolence on several occasions in refusing to cut her some fire wood, I was like many thoughtless young boys I did not intend to be mean, but the fact is, my refusing to comply with her request was mean, and to this day, I seldom see an ax without being reminded of how ungrateful I had been to my grand mother.

     I would now, if I could, do a thousand kind deeds for her in the way of atonement, but it is too late. It seems, I can yet see her affectionate looks, and hear her voice pleading, Please cut me some wood. If I could, I would travel back on the path of time untill I came to her little cabin, then cut her wood, and do many chores for her, all too, without her asking me, but, time in its flight destroys the road over which it has flown, the path has disappeared, and I cannot go back, I can only go to her grave and tell the clay, how unkind I had been to my grand mother.

     But, Hannah her daughter, never seemed to grow weary careing for her mother, no food was set on her table without a part being placed on her mothers table, it was simply a life of mother careing for child then, child for mother from the cradle to the grave. When one could do the other an act of kindness it was cheerfully done in a still quiet way, they often sat side by side, and their features portrayed a love deeper than tongue could tell, a love that flowed from pure hearts.

     The writer knows but little of the teaching of the Dunkard Church, but admits a power, a charm, a something grand in a religion, that will enable its bearer to do a kind act for some fellow being without saying, I did it.

     One time her daughter Lovis, living far away, and who had not seen her mother for many years, came to see her. Grand mother, learning of her arrival, though old and tottering, worked herself quite a distance by holding to the fence to meet her daughter.

     The writer saw them come together with bowed heads, they kissed, then for a few moments stood holding handkerchiefs over their eyes. What a religion, that crystal tears of pure love must be concealed, that the Father may reward openly. No words then fell from their lips, other than Daughter, Mother soon the daughter supported her aged mother back into her little cabin. It was simply a natural exhibition of love unparaded by words. Their next meeting took place over the river where the Father has made known their good deeds done in secret.

     Grand Mother, Catharine Black, died on the 26th of August 1854, and was buried in the Neal grave yard in the S.E. corner of the N.E.¼ Sec. 15, in Fairfield Township, Tus. Co. O.

     Her grave is marked by a square stone having C.L. cut on it.

     (Note) Grand Mother Black after the death of her husband, married a Longabaugh, but we called her G.M. Black.

Moses Ayres Cordrey

     Father, Moses Ayres Cordrey, was born July 9 1810, and, from the best information at hand, will say, near New Cumberland Tuscarawas County, Ohio, and I much regret that I have not the incidents connected with his earlier life up to his manhood days, but like boys of his time, it must have been one of rough and tumble, work or starve, food and clothing could only be obtained from the virgin soil, and not there untill the towering oaks had been removed from her bosom. Corn bread and wild meat formed the table luxury, tow shirts, tow pants and coarse flannel wamises, made up the sunday and every day suit. Coarse shoes could only be had for winter wear, but then, neighbor was like neighbor, vain aristocracy was unknown, all alike, all happy. Vain and silly pride, the curse of civilization, was then unknown or if known the people of those days could not be converted into fools.

     Being raised under such circumstances and surroundings, and having a mother whose life was molded and fashioned after that of her Savior and knew no law but that of reason and justice and common decency, it is but natural that father was a plain honest and industrious man.

     Like many of his day, he had no access to a common school, nor time and means to educate himself, and what little he knew of reading and arithmetic was obtained at odd times by being his own teacher, but he had a keen natural perception which enabled him to arrive at accurate conclusions with as much precision as could many having a good education. As an illustration of his wonderful power of estimating or judging from sight, I will here give a few examples. While he was a contractor for the Dover Iron Co. and I his clerk he often called on me for a statement of the No. of tons of ore delivered up to a certain date, and even though the amount would be up in the hundreds of tons and should I make an error of several tons, he knew it, and I learned to regard it as a rule that if he did not object to my report the count was correct, and while his business was that of a drover if he guessed at the weight of an animal, scales and he did not verry much.

     Father in stature, was about 5 ft. 10 inches high, and well muscled, weighing about 165 lbs. he had dark large eyes, which gave a direct and pleasing look, his hair and whiskers were black, his forehead was high and his face well formed, which gave a commanding appearance, he was not inclined to indulge in foolish conversation, but had the respect and good will of all who knew him.

     On the 15th of May 1831, he was married to Miss Hannah Black, and raised a family of 8 children, Viz. Catharine, Dorcas Jane, Eliza Ann, Frances, Jacob, Thomas Perry, Martha E. and Louisa.

     After the marriage ceremony was performed, there was no money for a wedding trip, but the more important business of devising some way to obtain household goods, was looked after, but unlike the custom of today while father handled the ax or plow, mother made the spinning wheel hum, soon long and wide linnen was laid on the grass to bleech, but the wheel went on, thread had to spun, and by the time father had the furniture mother had made the bed clothing, the towels etc and besides a couple suits of linnen clothes for father.

     You may talk of rich parlors, you may boast of costly mansions, but I venture the assertion that a year in them would not furnish the joy that might have been seen on a single evening at the fireside where father and mother sat. Yes, they were happy because, what little they had, they became the rightful owners of through the toil of their own hands.

     Soon after their marriage, father commenced house keeping on Unkle John Black's farm in Sandy Tp Sec No-____ Tuscarawas Co. Ohio, where he put in six years of continuous toil taking but a few hours of the night to rest and by perseverance and skill, accumulated enough means to buy a small farm, being the south west quarter of Sec No. 251, Sandy Tp. Tus. Co. O. on which he moved about the year 1837, but before the place could bring in returns in the way of cereal products, the forest had to be cleared away, the battle consisted between man and the lofty oaks, but tree after tree was felled, split into rails or cut into cordwood, which was then set up in charcoal pitts and charred for the Zoar Iron Furnace. This business of charing wood, required his attention day and night, there could be no rest, no sound sleep, every direction from his house might be seen the huge black smoking coal pits, resembling so many volcanos in a state of eruption, these required constant attention, and while father was away to the furnace with a load of coal, he had no cause to fear that his pit would burn up, no, mother was there, and it seems I can see her with a long handle shovel, casting dirt on a pit, pating it down, and preventing fire from breaking out on the surface of the pits. Catharine was of much help now on these occasions, and often accompanied mother after night on careing for the pits during fathers absence. But, energy and persevereance, the great keys that unlock the store house of wealth, gained the battle, the trees were converted into money, and the fields were made to yield returns, so that the farm was paid for and about the year 1845, he sold it and bought the Shannon farm being the S.W. ¼, Sec. No. 15 Fairfield Tp. Tus. County Ohio.

     Here too, the same spirit of enterprise which had characterized their lives was still made manifest. Six children, 3 girls and 3 boys, could now lend helping hands, and many a cornfield and potato patch was the better by their help.

     But the farm, though it contained many broad fields, was not wide enought to contain father's enterprising spirit, new fields of labor were surveyed and brought into the arena of business. Men were employed and put to work, and so extensively did he carry on work, that there was seldom a period in 28 years or up to the time of his death, that any man in a large expanse of the country, could say, I cannot find work, and thousand & thousands of people can today testify while looking over the charcoal fields, the railroad line, and the iron ore hills, that here M.A. Cordrey gave me many a dollar for my labor. And as to the charcoal fields will say, that so extensively did he carry on that business, that no travelor can start from the old Zoar furnace site and go any great distance without being reminded by the remains of a charcoal hearth, that here Cordrey has worked, and a circle that will encompass the fields, must have a diameter of 8 miles, and it must too be remembered, that many pits had been burnt on the same hearth. I have no means of knowing the No. of bushels he delivered to the Zoarites, but it must have been millions, and as a mark of his honesty and proficiency in complying with his contracts, I will here state, that in a settlement on one occasion with the above people of 360,000 bushels of coal, he was docked only 30 bushels.

     The charcoal was drawn to the furnace by a four horse team, and a load of 160 bushels was about all that could be drawn up the hills and two loads for a day's work, and I must here refer to a few of the old teamsters, because of their long and faithful service seemed to have become members of our family.

     First came Old Pete Cleckner, who seemed to enjoy the socity of horses, as well as, that of human beings, and talked to them as if they were his equals in intellect.

     Nest, Unkle Joseph Reardon, who took as much pride in having a slick fat horse as he could possibly have in a pretty woman.

     Then, Cousin Nathan Cordrey, whose first object was to see that his horses were well cared for.

     Father, in connection with his other business, from 1850 to '/53, followed droving, and in one drove of hogs delivered at Cadiz, Ohio, he was swindled out of several hundred dollars by a scoundrel named Rankins.

     In 1853 '54 & '55, he graded about two miles of railroad along the left bank of the Tus. river, from what is called the mouth of the Limestone hollow to below the mouth of Reeds run, and also, built the heavy arch at said run.

     Though he completed this work at starvation prices, he was compelled in the end to take what was due him in railway stock which became so depreciated that he was compelled to take 30 cents on the dollar for it, loosing about $2800.00 in the transaction, and about this time he had bailed a merchant, John McFarland, of Sandyville, O. for several hundred dollars, and besides, had 300 bushels of wheat stored with McFarland, who bursted up causing a heavy loss to father, but, as if this was not enough for mortal man to endure, and to complete the work of destruction, one, a money shark by the name of Jinnings of Wellsville, O. saw his chance to gobble up what little father had left, and by making promises succeeded in getting a mortgage on father's home farm, which he foreclosed like a clap of thunder, and like a whirlwind, swept all that father had made through many years of toil, into his own pocket; — how well I remember the day when the sheriff came to cry off the home that father and mother had so dearly earned to satisfy the debt of another person, and to satiate the greed of robbers.

     The son, who saw all this, saw in it a lesson that caused him to resolve to pay his own debts, and to let others do the same.

     But, though father was old and worn down, Did he give up and conclude to go to the poor house: No, the same conquoring spirit that led him from rags and poverty in his young days, was around in him, and he went out on the ore hills, viewed the surroundings, and soon closed a contract with the Dover Iron Co. to mine iron ore by the tun, this he went at with a push and will, that meant success, so that in 1866 or 67, he found himself able to buy the Neal farm being the N.E. ¼, Sec, No. 15, Fairfield Tp. - Tus. Co. O. and in 1872 was worth about $12,000.00, all made in 12 years or since 1860. This teaches us, what will and energy can do, - it was not his strength and education, but push and stick to it.

     As before stated, father was not inclined to talk much, but though his colloquial power was limited, his presence was welcome in any house where he was known. The joy of his heart, was made known by the expression of his eyes. His most tender sympathetic look expressed more than any tongue could tell, to know that his compassion and children were well and with him seemed to crown his earthly joy, and I can truly say that I never heard of him speaking in a harsh or unkind way to mother, but his whole life and soul seemed devoted to her happiness, and the well being of his children.

     Being strictly honest himself, he seemed to think all others were which accounts for the fact that he was so shamefully robbed by others, and while we do not know, we are inclined to think, that the Dover Iron Co., through their superintendent Anderman, got away with his money in no small amount. Father had left his entire account with the Dover Iron Co. in the hands of this man Anderman in whom, he seemed to have all confidence. We often heard father speak of a large amount of money that he was leaving in the care of this man, and when mother, after the death of father closed up the account with the Co. through this superintendent, she was informed that there was but little compared with father's statement coming to her. His demand that she should throw off 72 tons of iron ore for transportation loss, when the contract only required father to deliver the ore on cars at the chute of the mines, is prima facie evidence of an intention to robb, and justifies us in the impression that the robbery was perpetrated on no small scale, and as father had kept no book account, nor held notes to show for our guide, we were forced to yield and abide by what was given us.

     But it taught this lesson, Keep your own account, and put not your trust in others.

     We cannot claim that father was a scientific farmer in all that that term implies or perhaps, if he was, his mind was so absorbed in other better paying business, that, that qualification was never revealed to us.

     Hired help, and his boys, were allowed to take charge of that department without any particular instruction from him.

     If the harvest was a bountiful yield, all right, if not, there was no complaint made by the chief proprietor of the plantation, but that grand disposition was not only confined to the farm, but in all his business,- causes, natural and unnatural beyond any chance of rectifying, failed to bring from him an expression of indignation, except, in case where it was necessary to enforce better attention to business.

     He often demonstrated the fact not only to his boys, but to others that he had a good experimental knowledge of farm work, as well as, a theoretical, and he did it in the following ways. I remember that on one occasion his hired help was boasting that he had done a big days cradling grain when father replied that it was nothing to speak of that he could cut and put in shock 40 dozen from sun up untill sun down, with a sickle, that was too much for the cradler to believe, and the result was a bet of fifty cents that he could not, but the next evening at sun down disclosed the fact that he could, and in those days it seemed just as necessary to know who the bully cradler was, as it was necessary to have a jug of whiskey in the harvest field, and when new men came together, that business had to be settled first, but so far as father was concerned, he had but little trouble except in case when a new comer would settle down in the neighborhood, and in those days it was customary to pull the corn in the husk, haul it in and throw it in a row four or five feet high, dividing it into halves, marking the half distance by leaning up rails on opposite sides of the row, then a husking party after or in the night was the order. Captains chose off the men, and took their respective sides for a race or victory, and the first side done were the winners. Father was recognized as the bully husker, because he was always first through the pile, hence, was first chosen, and took his place by the side of the rail, but he told me how he maintained his reputation in that respect. The secret was, that for every two ears he husked, he threw one not husked over the rail and on the opposite side of the row for his opponent to husk.

     The closing of the husking was never the finishing touch of the hour, the two forces were brought to bear on each other for general ground tussle, and if a man went home with a clean shirt-back, it was because he was a better man than his antagonist, and men of those days had no better morals than men of our time have and were so anxious for a wallow that they would grab hold of Mr. Alcohol, even though they knew he could down any man in the crowd, and did have many on their backs before the time for the general ground tussle had arrived, and had many more so worried out, that it required but little physical effort to down them, on the part of those who would not try muscle with Mr Alcohol. Perhaps, this accounts for the fact, that Mother so seldom had fathers shirt to wash after the husking parties, and that enabled him to keep in the lead cradling grain. But I want to say here, that Mr Alcohol is not as good a man today as he was fifty years ago, he then drew his strength from rye and corn, but now from poisonous drugs, and in this has kept pace with the inventive skill of man by infusing his new properties into the nervous system of man, he is enabled to down him with but little exertion, and keep him down untill the funeral procession piles clay over his body. Yet, there are men so ignorant that they will grapple this monster even though they know that he can blow them into hell by one snort of his nose.

     As to disposition, but few men were more evenly balanced than was father, he did not approach either of the extremes, but took his station about midway, and what he was one day, he was the next, always kind and considerate not only to his own family, but to all with whom he had to deal.

     I have known him to take unreasonable abuse from those who supposed they had been wronged, without even replying to them in an angry way. But it is not to be understood that he never trounced any body, with him as well as with other mortal beings, there is a point or period, when forbearance ceases to be a virtue, and when that time came, some mothers son got a slapping as will be rembered in the case of Mathew Jackson, but when the exigency of the occasion demanded the punishment, it was administered in a cool business like way which seemed to leave an impression as lasting as if it had been coated with tongue lather or profanity. But we are glad to know that his good sense and judgment steered him clear of so many breakers, where man hurt man for no other reason than that of gratifying the devil.

     It may not be remembered by all the members of our family, that France was a good boy, and that Jake was a bad boy, and that every licking France gave Jake, Jake needed, but this much of it I will admit, that Jake yelled like a steam engine whether he was hurt or not and his only reason was, to get father to lick France, and he generally succeeded, and would then laugh about it. But I want to here relate a whipping, that father gave me that hurt more and lasted longer than any switching he ever gave me.

     Father was bitterly opposed to nay person using tobacco, and often admonished us to never use it. I had been using tobacco several months with such care that I never used it in the presence of any one of the family, kept it nicely rolled up in a piece of paper so it would not stain my pockets, and always washed the scent out of the pockets when I changed clothes hence, naturally supposed no body else knew anything about it, but one day Cousin Philip Black, who was a merchant, was making us a visit, and father had Philips little boy and was asking it what all he could sell, and hoped that he did not sell tobacco. Yes I tan sell backer, will you have a plug? No, father replied, I don't use it, but pointed at me and said, "He does" with a look of disapproval that had more force in it than could be extracted from a thousand switches.

     I may have forgotten many switch whippings received from my parents, but I never will forget the words, "he does" and that tender look mingled with sorrow, and I am inclined to believe, that if there was more tender sympathetic admonishing, and less severe punishment, it would tend to better the rising generation.

     The habits and conveniences of the people fifty years ago, and those of the people of today, are quite different, and while it is true that improvements have been made in manners and in methods, it is not true that all the changes of customs, are better than those of that time.

     Grain was then cut by hand with a sickle or a cradle, raked into bunches and bound by hand, much of it was threshed with a flail, and cleaned with a fanning mill, but, then so many bushels were not put on the market, and not so many loaves on the table, corn-pone and corn mush, were more generally used then than now, and that the reader will have some idea of the mush used in those days, I can in no better way describe it than by relating a true school story.

     There was in the school I attended a seventeen year old girl by the name of Phebe Morris, and it seemed as impossible for her to learn the letters of the alphabet as it is for a hog to learn geometry, but the teacher thought by bringing things to bear that had a name similar to that of the letter, he could strengthen her memory and awaken her perception, so the letter t was one of them, and the teacher asked, What do you generally have for supper? O muth (mush) an milk was the answer.

     But the white bread has driven the yellow bread away like the white man has driven the indian away, and on terms about as reasonable, and in the former case, the white man suffers, in the latter the red man.

     Then all seeds were sown and planted by hand, grass was cut with a scythe, spread out to dry, pitched together and raked up by hand, and was more free from dust than hay made by the present system which is better for the cough than for the horse.

     In view of the fact, that father was not a good talker, he in all respects was not a good entertainer, but if he failed in words, he did not fail in actions, and soon made guests feel at ease or at home, no pains were spared in looking after their wants, but he was a good listner, and injoyed a good joke, and his still tongue kept matters still between him and his neighbors to a great extent. Another trait in his character was, or consisted in not making himself superior to his guest, or the hero of his own exploits, such honors were invariably bestowed on the other fellow, so far as conversation went, but if it was to be determined by actions, who the great man was, he would carry off the laurels if it was in his power to do so.

     If there was any one place that he made himself more agreeable than another, it was in his own family, and around his own fireside. No cross-road bar-rooms, political corners, drinking saloons, nor secret lodges, where corruption breeds corruption, could entice him at any time from the bosom of his family, there he lived, and there he was always ready to smile his recognition of a good act by any of its members.

     I remember that at one time, when I was a little boy, father sang one of his favorite hymns, I have a Father in the promised land &c when he was done singing, I went out to myself, and tried to imitate him, he heard me and came to me. I looked up and saw him standing by me, he saw my countenance fall, but in a kind trembling voice of admiration for my effort, told me that he was pleased to hear me sing, and that he desired that I would soon learn to sing.

     And at one time, I was in the stable attending to the horses, and trying to use profane language that I had heard the hired hand use, but father heard me and came into the stable, I expected a severe whipping, he looked at me a moment and walked away, I knew that he felt sorry, but I dont know that he felt more sorry than I did then.

     As to father's charity, I will say, that his house, as before stated, was a resort not only for church people, but for all hungry mortals that seemed to have no where else to go for food. Ministers and members of the congregation after church, might be seen coming down the long hill to father's many of which, did not live as far from the church house as father did, but no difference, it was customary to go and they went and were all made welcome. Father was not rich, but then it seemed a repetition of the loaves and fishes. It mattered not how large the number of disciples, several basketsfull could be gathered up, after the feast of fragments. Ministers after being on the circuit awhile could readily find their bed after night without a lamp to guide their feet.

     Father was always a liberal giver, when the preachers salaries were to be paid, when church houses were to be built, or repaired, and when any incidental expenses had to be met, also, carried two certificates of life membership in the Missionary Cause and was a constant subscriber to the church paper of his choice, Viz. The Religious Telescope, but, after devoting his entire life and means in the service of his Master, he was summonsed to appear before the Bar of God we saw our dear father fall asleep in Jesus, we saw his body lowered into the grave, we heard the rough clods fall on his coffin, and thought we knew he would forever live in Heaven, and in our memory, yet it was but natural that we desired to see his name and work in print before our eyes, and the following lines we sent to the Editor (Huey) of the Telescope at Dayton Ohio, where all the officials of the paper or press, knew him well, and no doubt often partook of food that mother prepared for them with her own hands, but no space could be given for these lines.

O, do you remember the time,
When our parents were in their prime,
How they toiled on the old homestead,
That we, their children, might have bread?

The great desire that filled their mind,
Was not for food of earthly kind;
For bread that satisfies the soul,
Of all, inscribed on Heavens roll.

Often they prayed in solemn tones,
For such bread in their children's homes,
That their table in grace might shine
With rich beams of Heaven divine.

Do our souls hunger for the food?
Or seek we for some other food,
If for the trifling things of earth
They'll prove to us of little worth?

To my parents my mind does turn,
And for them still my heart doth yearn,
O, the anguish that filled my heart
When with them I was called to part.

But, why for them are we weeping?
They in Christ are only sleeping:
Did they not on their dying beds,
On Jesus' bosom rest their heads?

The record of their life below
Is proof enough that we may know
That they did gain the other shore,
With Christ to live, forever more.

By faith I see, just over there,
Two forms with robes so white and fair!
Surely it can be no other,
Than father, embracing mother.

It seems they are looking this way,
Ever anxious to hear us pray!
Father calls—Mother waves her hand–
"Come, children to this goodly land!"

In golden letters o'er their head,
I read the promise that we made
Before their eyes were closed in sleep,
That in Heaven we all would meet.

they could get no more subscription money from him, Preachers could no longer find food and shelter under his roof, and they could see no cause why valuable space in their paper should be taken up when it would not interest any one save his children, but did conclude in view of his service to the paper and church to give this notice of their deaths.

Moses A. Cordrey died March 17 - 1873.
Hannah Cordrey died April 6 - 1875.

     We thank them for that much, but though I had always previous to that time, been a reader of the Telescope I have since forgotten it as they forgot my father.

     Father in his earlier life was a member of the Bible Christian church, and did much in the way of building up a class in the little frame school house that stood by the road side on his farm, and that church believed that,

     If ye will the precepts keep,
     You must attend to washing feet.

and though a small boy at that time it seems, I can yet see them sticking their long bony toes out to a brother or sister to wash, but as to whether the mandate was made obligatory by the great head of the church or not, I will not venture an opinion, but will say, that it had a salutary effect in this, that there were not so many stinken feet taken into the Lords house on such occasions.

     Father's actions were always a true index of the inner man, false pretenses and his soul could no more harmonize than can fire and water, just what he was, he practiced. He was not boisterous in prayer nor fluent in speech,– in song, almost a failure, but his whole soul seemed to enter into his speech and song in such a way, that it seemed to give character and dignity to his utterance, making his common language appear eloquent, and leaving a good impression on the hearer, but what was true in his case was true in the case of many of the church members of that day, vain conceit, foolish pride and patent worship, like that of the present time, would with them have been considered the work of the devil, and I am inclined to think that the great Judge in the final winding up, will assign a great [d]eal of the modern form of worship where it belongs,– that is in hell.

     In those days the people worshiped Christ in the simplicity of a child, now in all the pomposity of a monarch, then they got down in sack-cloth and ashes, now up in silk and satin, then prayer flowed from a sincire desire of the heart, now from the pages of books getting no nearer the heart than the tip end of the tongue, and no nearer the throne of god than does the profanity of the heathen, and then they sang the praises of God in a soul stirring way, now they thump them out of a machine with gold and diamond rings on the hammer handles.

     I do not pretend to be a doctor of divinity, but am forced to conclude that, if the great body of church members of to-day are saved for the glory to come, then there is more than a faint hope that all the dancing jacks and jinnies of the ball room will go direct to Heaven when they die. People go to church to show their hat and bonnets. People go to dances to show their stockings and drawers, and I don't think it makes any difference which end of the man is stuck toward the throne, as that will not save him, righteousness alone must do that a something not found in the exhibition of wearing apparel, and in exhibiting partly naked women, as has been the case in ball rooms in Washington City. If good work alone saves a man, then there should be a line of demarkation drawn between the church and the world, and christians should not walk with one leg on one side of the line and the other leg on the other side.

     The class in the little school house flourished well for quite a number of years, and I have no doubt but what many of its members layed a good foundation for a home in Heaven, but like all good enterprises had its trouble. The preacher Rev. — Long purchased a set of harness and a buggy from father gave his note for them went off dishonored his paper, and the class died out, but not so with their hope in Christ it lived and lived for several years, when it revived and sprang forth into new life in what was known as the Bisle [Bisel] church house, under the auspices of the U.B. Church.

     About the year 1856, a new class was formed in the above named house, new determinations were formed to serve God, and new hopes of Heaven were formed, and so thorough was the revival, that there seemed to be no one left to do honor for the devil in that community. Perhps there never was a class that worked more in harmony and more for on anothers good, than did this class. It was in this class, I so often heard Grand Mother Cordrey speak in no uncertain terms of Heaven, and it seems I can yet see Aunt Diana Stine turning her head from one side to the other, stamping her foot on the floor, thus accounting her expressions of a rest where there is no sorrow. Father, mother and Eliza Ann, were also of the class, but they have all crossed the river, and have joined the class that shall worship Christ, not by faith, but in the person he shall reveal unto them in his Kingdom.

     Father did much in the way of building up the Class, and in supporting the ministry_always at his post, and willing to support any good cause. Like many others who have been of much use to society, will not be named in history but will live in the memory of those who knew him. Who that, was a member of that old Class, will say that they did not see the tears in father's eyes, while the suffering of Christ on the cross, was being told, who can say that his daily walk was not consistent with his Christian profession, and who will say, that he ever turned the needy from his door without giving them relief. Yes, we are proud in the belief that if his name has not found a place in worldly history, it has in the Great book of life, and in that Day, when the seals are broken, it will be found that the recording Angel has nonored father, and dishonored many whose names are found on the pages of earthly history,—but we do not rejoice in knowing that any have been lost, but mean to convey the idea, that all whose names are extolled in our history will not be in the sacred book of life.

     It is but natural that children honor and revere their parents,-especially after their bodies have been consigned to the tomb, it is then that the curtain is so hung that it screens from view, all the unkind acts their parents may have committed, then inasmuch as the curtain of death has been hung up between us and our dear parents, cutting off our temporal view of them, and all that at any time may have seemed to us unkind in them, we insist that the reader be lenient with us.

     We cannot forget them. We cannot adore them too much, and though this curtain was woven tightly by the angel of death, its threads are not so closely knit that our eyes of faith cannot penetrate it and see beyond, our parents walking the golden streets, nor can it screen from our memory their smiling faces, and many kind deeds. No, these views and sweet reflections, shall forever abide with us, and when our souls are bowed down with care, we know that they will tend to lift us above the storms of life. These ties which so dearly bind us to the dead seem sufficient proof that the soul of man will never die. Tis strange yet true, though our heads are growing gray, and our eyes dim in years, we often wake from dreams in which we had been living with our parents as when we were little children, and I have often thought that I could desire no better heaven than to live with my parents through all eternity, but, when I live with them as I so often do in memory, all my unkind acts seem to pass in review before me, and if we are to be reunited, if we are again to live in that peace that knows no sorrow, then these unpleasant recollections must be obliterated, they are carnal and belong to earth hence, must be covered in the grave.

     The last time I saw father alive, was at Mr Neffs in the city of Ft. Wayne Dec. 6- 1872, he had attended in company with mother, the funeral of Malinda, Thomas' wife, and was staying there to take the train for home on the following day. I had bidden him and mother good by in the house, but father followed me out into the yard, and it seemed he could not part with me, or that there was something he desired to tell me and could not. I had often parted with him on other occasions, but none of them like unto this, had a messenger from the spirit world told me it would be our last parting it could not have been more solemn. I knew not why, but he seemed to know. I cannot explain to a stranger just how he acted, but when I say to brothers and sisters who have seen his weeping eyes, who have seen him when he would say something and could not, and when his breat seemed to raise and fall like the troubled waters of the deep, I then have described it better than I can tell it in words. After I had gone some distance from him, I looked back and saw him standing as I had left him, he was still looking toward me as if he intended I should disappear form him instead of him from me. O death, O Thou, who canst in a single breath, blow out the life of man why these heart rending sepperations, but then, it is said that— One moment in Glory makes up for them all that look, though but a momentary view of him, fate decreed should be my last of his life. The next time I saw him, the eyes that had so often smiled on me, were closed. The tongue that had spoken so many kind words was still. The lips that had kissed me when I was a child, did not move. The hands that had protected and cared for me were folded on his breast,— He was dead.

     The many thousand poor people to whom he gave employment, may forget him. The church may forget him, as did its printing press, but his children cannot, and when the trumpet shall sound, no one will come forth more worthy of the declaration

     Well done, thou good and faithful servant, than he.

     He now sleeps in the beautiful burying ground in front of the church house in which he so long and so faithfully served his Master.

     Father died Mar 17 1873.

Hannah Cordrey

     Mother, Hannah Cordrey, was born January 1st 1812, and was raised on a farm near Canton Ohio. I am sorry that I have no events of her youthful life, but the fact that she was of Pennsylvania german descent, is proof sufficient that she was not brought up in a fine parlor nor on the stool of do nothing. Those who know the busy bee like nature of that class of people, know that with them, it is work first and play when there is no work to do, and their children always had an idea that such a time never came, and when we compare the facilities for doing work at that time with the present, we conclude that they had much reason to think so. The young women in those days had two houses in which they worked, the one was covered with clapboards, the other by the blue ethereal sky, they toiled in the outer house as long as the great lamp in the heavens gave light, when that went out and the shades of night came on, they were found in the inner house cooking by the light of a big wood fire or a candle light.

     After supper, which usually consisted of a corn-pone or a pot of mush, the dishes were cleanly washed and stored away on shelves pinned to the wall, and covered by nice linen hangings, the cabin then was converted into a home factory. The girls brought out the spinning wheels, and if there were not a half dozen wheels humming at the same time, it was because there were not that many grown up daughters in the family, tow flax and wool flew through the house like snow flakes on a lawn, and seemed to fly from the rockers and rolls like so many shooting stars, deft fingers manipulated the wool and tow in such a way, that the revolving flyers twisted it on spools from which it was rewound on a reel that gave a click, telling when a skein or cut (I don't remember which it was called,–but I know it was no unkind cut for the back,) was wound on. Any young man in search of a wife could tell how many grown up girls were in a certain family by counting the spinning wheels in their room.

     But in this factory, there were often other machinery operating as a bass drum to the music of the huming wheels, it was called a loom, and the mother of the gals, as they were then called, could be there making the shuttles run their race from side to side, while she chaced them up with a reed swung in great beams, in this machine the threads were laid in what was called chain and filling, and like the irishman and barrel of whiskey on a hill side, one seemed to be on top of the other just half the time.

     And while we record the work of the younger women, we must not forget that of the older. The grand mother sat by the fire side performing a feat for the feet that was really wonderful,—how those knitting needles did wobble and bob up, but, then every move was essential for the formation of the stocking. I can understand why the irishman was on top of the barrel half of the time, but I cannot understand how the warp and woof performe the office, nor how the yarn looped together to form that necessary covering for the extremity of man, but this grandmother knew, and though her face was wrinkeled and her eyes half sightless, she never missed a stitch, and while busy plying her needles, her mind run back to her young-days when she could clip the wool from a sheep in the morning, and by the next morning, have it ready for her man to pull on in the shape of a pair of socks.

     The old grand father could not be idle, though toothless, he sang lulaby for the baby he rocked in its cradle. One corner of the room was occupied by the father mending and half-soling shoes for the family. The boys shelled corn to take to the mill next day.

     Reader, do not think that I have been drawing largely on imagination, quite to the contrary, when I was a little boy I worked in such a home factory, and many gray headed men and women of today can testify to this description of early home life, as being correct.

     We are glad to know that the inventive skill of man, has largely driven away the necessity of such laborious toil on the part of our mothers and sisters of this time, but we are forced to admit that though there remains enough yet to do, the great bee hive of the world contains too many drones and queens, which are worthless to themselves and produce notheing sweet for the working bees, they are seldom found on the farms where the plants grow and bloom, but in cities where the honey is deposited, they are non workers hence, non producers, the insect bees kill off all such, but the human bees in mercy and pity, let them live. The old grand mother who knit the socks by the fire side, was of more use than a thousand women who hire their babies nursed while they sit holding a dirty pug-nose dog on their laps in preference to their own child. The girl who spun the yarn was of more use than a thousand so called young ladies who sit in parlors, or promenade the streets, compelling their fathers to hire the house work done, and that too perhaps, while they are in debt for the coats on their backs, and in conclusion say, Happy must be that father when a marriage ceremony relieves him from such a worthless daughter, but, God pity her husband, who has taken unto himself a wife that knows not how to keep house, far better for him had he wedded a rag doll.

     So then, when it is known that Mother was raised in a cabin where the loom beat time to the song of the spinning wheels, where the shoe hammer beat to the time of the lullaby song from the tooth-less old man, and the dropping corn to the clicking knitting needles, we say it is not strange that Mother, under the guidance of a Mother well skilled in all the requisites essential to make home a sweet home, was so eminently qualified to become the useful companion to father that she was, and I venture to say, that father accustomed to the methods of living in those days, was often surprised to see new articles in the house that he could not buy for the want of money, made by her ready fingers and skill.

     How different with many new beginners now in house keeping, everything from a pin cushion up to a great over coat, must be purchased made up. The young wife in many instances though she has eyes, ears, hands and strength, is only equivalent to a cats toy.

     Poor creature, she is to be pitied rather than despised, she had a mother who thought it degrading for her daughter to ]o domestic work. The young husband if he be poor must now suffer for the false delusion of his Mother-in-law, and hire a servant girl to do that which the Creator intangled his wife should do.

     I recognize the fact, that many of these toy women have some fine accomplishments, they have a fair knowledge of books and music, and know just how low to bow in saluting company, but such attainments should be regarded as secondary to the more useful knowledge that of keeping house.

     But the work performed by women in the house covered with clapboards, was only a part of what they had to do in those days in the house covered by the blue and often black sky, they also, toiled, and if we estimate their strength by the strength of the women of to day, we cannot believe that they could possibly have indured so much fatigue, but that is not a fair stand point from which to draw conclusions, no more so, than to conclude that a plant housed in a close room should be as luxuriant and strong, as one kept in the balmy air and bright sunlight of heaven.

     No, a woman then had more strength than five have now, or in other words, could do rive times as much work, they could plow, harrow, reap grain, bind wheat, make hay and hoe corn, in a way that often outrivaled the male sex. As to whether it was right or wrong for women to thus toil, I am not prepared to say, but this I must admit, that it gave them strong constitutions which in turn gave strong off spring. How different with the toy kept women of our age, poor sickly things are fading and dying, the idea of honest work being degrading, is killing them, and puny children, is the result of their false notion. Perhaps the question has had its extremes, and that the time was when they worked too hard, but now is when they work too soft.

     But the old schooling, however severe it may have been, made Mother the self reliant woman she was.

     She did not only know how to keep her house, but she kept it.

     She did not only know how to run a farm, but she, ran it during fathers absence, and whatever fell to her lot to do, was done in a tidy business like way.

     Mother was 5 ft. 7 inches high and weighed about 140 lbs. her hair was long and smooth and quite dark, her eyes were between a gray and blue, they were large and bright and though so tender and seemed to express a world of love, the observer could see in them a limit, and that it would not be safe to cross the line of reason and justice, her forehead was high, her features regular, and her carriage graceful, which seemed to give character or dignity to her movements. She was not inclined to indulge in trifling conversation, and seemed to consider before she spoke, if she could not speak well of a person, she would not speak of them at all, but to them she said what she had to say without fear.

     I can in no better way describe her character or bravery, than to relate a little circumstance that at one time occurred. Some chicken thieves had made a raid on her poultry one night, and when that fact was made known to her, it was quite plain to be seen in her eyes that some mothers son would hear something for his insolence in crossing the line of justice. The thieves instead of taking a bee line for their home had taken the opposite direction, presumably for the purpose of throwing the blame on some innocent person, but by circling and traveling about two miles unnecessarily, they finally deposited the stolen fowls where they were to be cooked and feasted on.

     Mother, after taking some observations of the surroundings, struck off with no other backing than her little girl Catharine on what seemed to be the trail, a feather now and then and often for a part, the turning over of a clod or a foot mark on fences, were all that marked her direction, but, then that was enough for a woman determined to know who had the audacity to make a raid on her chicken coop. Feather after feather, mark after mark had been found, and led her up to the thieves door, in she walked with head and body erect, her flashing eyes at a glance saw unmistakeable signs of guilt, and with a voice that did not falter, she read to them the riot act in such a business like way that it did not fail to impress on their guilty minds the difference between an honest man and a chicken thief.

     But, generally her mild way and pleasant address did not precipitate a quarrel, and it was only when her right or character had been assailed, that she acted in her defense, and I want to here state, that to the best of my knowledge, she and father never had a quarrel of an aggravating nature, whether by an agreement or a common consent, I cannot say, but they seemed to have been guided by the rule that, It requires at least two to wage a war of words successfully, and if one of the parties keep quiet the other will soon quiet down.

     So with them, if one was out of fix the other kept still, and if both were out of fix, both kept still, but we are glad in knowing that they were so devoted to each other that no unkind look or harsh word often marred the harmony that existed between them, each seemed to try to out-rival in bestowing comforts on the other.

     When my mind runs back it seems impossible that any woman could go through the work that mother did. Most of the clothing for the family had to be made from raw material.

     The only sewing machine she knew of were her hands and needle, but some how, I know not how those hands always had clothing for herself, father and her six small children, and sufficient food on the table and at regular hours, her rooms did not contain fine carpet and costly furniture, such a thing as a cooking stove was then unknown, but the, ever busy mother was there, and where she stayed peace reigned, Mother, father and children, all contented, all happy, all together in their sweet home.

     Mother, though dear at all times, was dearer in the sickroom than in any other way or place, they who have had kind and tender mothers, know mothers worth and sympathy in their hour of suffering, far better than pen can describe. O mother, O angel mother when fever scorched our brows, when pain tortured our bodies. Thy hand, thy sympathy and loving kindness, were ever with us to soothe and comfort. It was then she forgot self and remembered us. It was then she seemed to not become weary that we might rest. It was then she could not sleep that we might slumber. It was then that her loving soul was willing to become a sacrafice that her child might live. Yes, such a mother was our mother, and though we may have been ungrateful, though we may have often caused her to grieve, we cannot forget her, we cannot forget her loving heart, her weeping eyes and tender admonitions.

     None but christian parents can know the anxiety that christian parents have in raising a family of children, such parents desire to see their children build up for themselves a character that will honor their name, that will bless their parents and be approved by Heaven. They can sit up through many long and dreary nights careing for their sick child, and seem to not grow weary, and when their hope gives way, when the outlines of death are visible, and when it seems that the cold grave will soon contain their dear one, tears may fall from their cheeks, all of this they can endure knowing that He who giveth life, has a right to take it at his good pleasure, but when their children are grown up, when they are exposed to all the traps that the devil has set around them in the shape of card tables, grog saloons, gambling dens and dancing shops, so well designed to draw thoughtless people down to perdition, and when they see their children drawn into these snares by the catechised servants of hell, who say to them, Come, do come, let us have some fun.

     Don't mind your parents, they injoyed themselves while young. You are old enough now to be your own boss, it is then, that the tears of bitter sorrow fall from parents cheeks, it is then that every fond hope that they had cherished in their bosoms, is dispelled, it is then that their hearts sink in despair and it is then they feel that their gray hairs must go down to the grave in grief dishonored by their children, who seem to have forgotten all the tender care their parents bestowed on them in infancy.

     But, we are glad in knowing that though there have been children who strayed away in sin reformed and became good citizens, and we are better pleased in knowing that there have been children, who felt that they had a character to maintain, and who had the courage to say to the schooled servants of Satan, I will not be caught in your dens of vice. Who can estimate the moral worth of such children, and who can express the joy and pride their good parents take in them. I have often wondered why it was, that an enlightened nation would enact a law making it a penitentiary offense to steal a horse, but by its silence consent that the good character of children be stolen, or that they be drug down into the soul destroying pots of hell above mentioned.

     O thou thief, O thou demon for the infernal regions, if you must, steal our property, steal it, but we plead in the name of Heaven, keep your polluted and polluting hands off of the character of our children.

     They who play cards say, There is no harm in playing a game of cards for fun, as if it was not the school in which the gambler took his first lesson. They who are in prison for gambling say, that their first steps toward the prison were made when they played their first games for fun. They who sell grog say there is no harm in drinking it, as if it was not a viper that fastens its fangs to kill, but they who have permitted the venom of the reptile to become infused in their veins say, that the cause of their sinking into a drunkards grave, is that they yielded to drinking their first glasses in which, they supposed there was no harm. They who set up dancing shops say, There is no sin in them, as if evil associations did not corrupt and characters, but thousands who fell from Christian grace, attribute their fall to such catch pens denied by the devil. Remember that

They who live in sin,
Will always try to draw you in.

     Mother, though still and quiet, soon made her visitors feel as if they were at home and welcome. She did not use her tongue so much, but her hands more, and the best she had was freely set on the table where patent forms or white washed styles were not allowed to take the place of the good old fashion of all helping themselves, and in their own peculiar ways, but this, her style of table etiquette though agreeable to all well raised people, was not so with the city galvanized dude.

     I remember that at one time while father was rail-roading, that a number of young officials connected with the road, called at our place for lodging. They hailed from Cleveland O. which of course made them very important as well as their office. Mother had not learned that fine clothes made the gentleman, and always had a notion that good manners without any unnecessary appendages or attachments, made a person worthy of that title, and her habit was, to use all alike, whether well or poorly dressed if their conduct justified such treatment, and she did not wait on any body as if they were helpless children. Her dining room and kitchen did not happen to be set a part by a partition wall. But finally, the victuals were placed on the table, and the magnates summonsed to partake, they had seated themselves round the table, and were waiting for a servant to dish out their food, or in some way honor them. Mother would not act in that capacity, neither would she let her girls, and for once in her life had the satisfaction of bringing aristocracy down on a level with a farmer, by making them help themselves or go hungry. They soon took in the situation, and food with it, and after a few frowns above their shirt collars, fell to dropping epithets in reference to the old fashioned fire place in which their food had been cooked, and a want of their supposed good manners. I could then see in mother's eyes, that they were liable to hear at any moment the difference between good and bad manners, but father's business on the road made it wise in her to bear their insolence which she did.

     Mother, though brought up in the sign witch and ghost age of the world, was not a firm believer in such delusions, as were many in that day, but the pressure brought to bear in favor of the existence of such things, was too strong for her to remain altogether skeptical. She took stock in the then universal idea, that to plant cucumber seeds when the sign was in the virgin, would result in the vines blooming, but not bearing fruit, but she never strongly advocated the popular belief that the falling of a dish-rag on the floor, was a true sign that somebody was coming, that if it spread out on the floor, it would be a woman, and that if it lay piled up it would be a man coming.

     In witch craft, I do not know that she had any faith at all, but she often told us boys that to kill a toad would cause the cows to give bloody milk, but I always had a vague idea, that it was more to save the toads than to preserve the milk, and I never heard her prescribe the old reliable remedy for relieving animals, that of burning them along their back bones with a plow-colter when witches were unmercifully abusing the poor creatures. In that, it seems, she saw as much cruelty in the remedy, as in the effect of witch power.

     As to what her belief in the existence of ghosts was, I am not able to say she so seldom had anything to say on that subject before her children, perhaps her good judgment taught her that the less said to them on such a topic, the less trouble they would be when compelled to go to bed by themselves, but I do remember hearing her relate one spook story. She and her brother Peter while young, had strolled out by a mill-pond in search of berries, and while there heard a squeaking noise which her brother mocked and caused whatever the producer of the sound was, to draw nearer to them; being frightened mother looked up and saw just above the tree tops something like a be-sheet fluttering in the air and comeing toward them, which caused them to find their mama in less time than when she had a job of work for them to do.

     I always felt glad, while a boy that the monster did not catch them, but since grown up, I conclude that the squeaker must have been a bull frog, and the bed sheet a newspaper, that a whirlwind had taken up in the air, and gravitation was returning to earth, and the difference in size, I account for on the principle that, a ghost the size of a sixpence, soon grow to the dimension of a wagon-wheel after discovered by the eye.

     What a blessing over country now finds in the fact that the people have discarded the false notions of the existence of such things as signs, witches and ghosts. The time was, when people often put off planting seeds, building fence, roofing buildings, butchering etc.

     The ground may have been right, the weather may have been right, the time may have been right, but with them, the moon was wrong, and for that reason their work was delayed, and often when the moon was right, other conditions were wrong, resulting in empty granaries, empty cupboards, empty pocketbooks and empty heads, and the twelve zodiac signs, pictured in almanacs were considered as useful to the occupants of a house, as was the house. What a wonderful moon they had, if the picture in the almanac indicated that the sign was down, and if a fence was then built or flax spread on the ground to dry, the naughty moon would jump on it and force it into the ground, but if the sign was up, when such work was done, then the good moon gently held them up. Yes, busy wonderful moon she must have been to tramp all the flax and fence into the ground with her beam light feet, not laid when the picture was up, and to carry the many thousand tons of flax, and the many million of rails on the feet of her beam light legs, simply because the picture sign was up; to act in conformity to all the innumerable signs man invented and to comply with the natural law in her orbit. When we think of all this, we repeat, Wonderful, wonderful moon.

     Though the neglecting of work at the time it should have been attended to from erroneous ideas of picture signs, may have caused many to scratch a poor mans back and much want and suffering, yet we do not think, What it brought on anything like the worry, trouble and spirit of revenge, that the false notion of the existence of witches did. New England with all her boasted learning, with all her ideas of reformed Christianity has a black page on her history that causes civilization to mourn and the devil to blush in shame. History, both sacred and profane, fails to furnish a record of any heathen nation that stands as a parallel in crime to that of Cotton Mather and his fellow demon spirits.

     Poor old men and poor old helpless women, who were strugling for the necessaries of life to keep their souls and bodies together, were pounced on by these demons drug on the gallows and there hung to appease the damnable delusion of the socalled ministers and rulers of that place and day.

     Had the people in turn under the same accusation, pulled Cotton Mather on the scaffold, it would have knocked his hell born supposed scriptural proof of witchcraft out of him, and converted him into a human being.

     I have no doubt but what people in biblical times possessed evil spirits, as people of our time do, but I do not think they had power to perform a miracle. Their peculiar conduct with a view of accomplishing something, alone brought on the name witch, which has caused many bible readers to believe that people at one time possessed supernatural power.

     The agency brought to bear on the witches to punish them, or to alleviate the suffering of things supposed to be afflicted by them, certainly brought witch and doctor on a common level of intelligence.

     Think of the absurdity of destroying witches by shooting them in effigy with a silver bullet, of boiling a shirt and three beans in a coffee-boiler as a means of relief, and of burning a dumb bruit from the top of its head to the root of its tail with a plow colter as a cure, and you have the primitive knowledge of many who lived in early times, but the ignorance displayed in such ideas cuts no figure when compared to that of Cotton Mather" and his horde of demons.

     And who can estimate the trouble brought on during the ghost period, men who had torn the jaw bones out of the Brutish lion in two different wars, had not the courage to pass by a grave yard nor to visit a lonely log cabin after night. By their actions they said, we do not fear nations, we do not fear Indians, we do not fear ferocious beasts but, O deliver us from ghosts.

     It is of no use to attemp to describe the spooks they saw because everything visible in the dark at some time or another had transformed its self into a visionary monster, and driven them back home with heels and coat tails high up in the air. Little children that were not old enough to go out to see the ghosts, had all the horrible features of the spooks explained to them, so that the entire family from the cradle up to the great arm chair, was kept in a state of constant fear. The child could not go to bed by its self. The boy could not bring in an arm full of wood after night without being escorted by brothers, father and family dog armed with fire tongs, shovels, pitch forks and sharp teeth, and even then, the hoot of an owl often drove the whole posse back into the house without any wood, except the dog which had better sense.

     But the false idea of the existence of ghosts, did not only being trouble through fear, it brought men to a proper fleetness on foot, and to a proper attention of their business before the darkness of night came on. There is much truth in the saying that, it is an ill wind that blows no good, and the same holds good in the spook trade. It is really wonderful, what tendency the spooks had in developing the speed power of man, a long leged boy in the ghost period has been known to make his mule in four minutes, and in less time if the spook happened to be going his direction, and kept just behind him. Half of the work was not put off to be done after dark in those times. Men would not lay around drinking saloons and card tables, and take the risk of going home in the night and then children were not strolling over the country after night like lost sheep without a bell on.

     When I ponder over all these things, I conclude that our free schools have performed a great work in killing the signs and witches, but I am not sure that they have improved our condition by killing off the useful spooks, Poor innocent spooks they never injured a living soul but like good angels went about administering good, they made men attend to their business in day time, to stay at home of nights and they kept children out of ungodly society when they should be at home in their beds.

     Yes, I firmly believe that a spook in every school district would accomplish more good than all the missionaries that could be sent out.

     Mother was not only a firm believer in the word of God, but a worker in carrying out its divine teaching; not to make a vain show, but because its teaching carried the elements of purity and raised man to a higher plain of perfection, and in all her religious life I do not think that any person had cause to say, that she acted in a hypocritical way, and, if her daily walk is a rule by which we can judge, we must say, that she loved her savior as dearly on work days as she did on the Sabbath. She was not what was called a good singer, and did not say much at any time, perhaps in that, she naturally filled Pauls idea of a woman in the church, but, then, there was a sincerity in what she did say, and her saying and her working harmonized so completely, that she did not only gain the admiration of the church, but the esteem of the non professors of religion.

     In writing this sketch of mother, I recognize the fact, that children seldom see the wrongs in their parents, and in speaking of them, are likely to speak only of their good qualities, but I am aware that, what I write, will be criticised and I am glad in knowing that it will come before those who knew mother as well as I did and who no doubt will vouch the correctness of my feeble sketch of her life.

     It is now nearly 16 years since she left the sorrows of this life to live with the redeemed in Heaven and though I have not heard her voice, nor seen her since, somehow I cannot tell how, we still live together, sometimes, I am a little child and she is careing for me, sometimes, she is leading me over the fields, sometimes we are sitting by the fire and talking to one another, and sometimes, I am sick and feel her hand gently resting on my brow, whether it be in dream or in my imagination, they are the happiest moments of my life.

     O Mother, Dear Mother, we cannot forget your devoted life to father, we cannot forget your kind care over us, and we cannot forget the many tears you shed in sorrow for us, and though we will never live together again in temporal bodies, may our spirits always hold sweet communion with one another, and when the cares of life rest heavily on us, when pain and sickness, tortures our bodies, lay your gentle hand on our brows, and when our eyes are closed in death, when all is darkness around us, and when our poor souls leave these bodies, 0 then sweet angel mother take us by the hand and lead us toward Jesus as thou didst while on earth.

     Mother was a very sensitive woman, and could not bear up well under grief and sorrow, and when the icy hand of death took from her bosom the one with whom she had lived so many years, and loved with all her soul, the one that had never spoken an unkind word to her but had loved her as dear as he did his own life, it took away all that she most cared to live for in this world, and she told me while she was following her dear one to his grave, that she loved her children dearly, that they had been good and kind, but if it was the will of her blessed Master, she was ready and willing to go with him beyond the grave, to go with him where the souls cleaned by the blood of Jesus, are free from sorrow, and she said, that he had always been so willing and ready to go with her that she was now ready to go with him through the dark valley of death. I told her that father was now at rest, and that her children would try to make her stay with them pleasant. She replied, I know they will, but I am old and cannot stay long. The few years she remained with her children were only so many years mourning for her companion that had crossed over the river and I have no doubt but what often in the dead hour of night, when the rain and sleet were falling on her loved ones grave, that her tears were falling on her pillow, that her lily white hands were clasped in prayer, and her soul pleading that it might be released from the sorrow of life. His clothes and vacant chair, never ceased to tell her, he is gone, his love and kindness reminded her, that he had been with her, but his silent voice said, that he was not now and when he did not go with her and she found his seat vacant in the church, tears fell from her eyes, but blessed be the hope that carries us beyond the grave, they were not tears of sorrow.

     It reminded her that there through many years, he had given testimony of a living faith in the blood of Jesus to save from sin, that there he had so often testified of his hope being anchored in the courts of eternal rest, and that when his soul left its tenement of clay, it would go to a mansion not made by hands. 0 precious seat, where father sat in the old church house, we remember thee, we love thee because thou didst comfort mother when all else inanimate seemed arrayed against her.

     Father's Christian life had been such that it left no doubt in mother's mind of his being safe on the other shore, and she knew that she loved her Savior with all her soul and strength, and that when this life ended with her, she would be reunited with her dear companion, where the bonds of union are never broken, and where Christ the center and life of all holiness, would reveal to them the wonders of his Kingdom. We know that when her eyes fell on father's vacant seat and tears were streaming down her pale cheeks, that she was living in this life, but her soul seemed to soar beyond the stormy clouds, where she could see father sitting on his golden chair at the right of the Throne, and by his side the seat and crown reserved for her, glittering and reflecting the image of Him, who is Lord of all, and who said Come to me all that are weary and heavy laden, and while her spiritual eyes were viewing the grandure and perfection of the celestial world, and Him who said, I am the resurrection and the life, her natural eyes and love seemed to rest on her children, she loved them with a love that only mother's know,—but cannot tell, and though they may have often given her pain by an unkind act or thoughtless word, yet they were her children, and by her influence and persuasion desired to lead them to a knowledge of the truth as it is in Christ, and to guard them from the temptations thrown around them by those who know not the worth of a soul.

     Aside from this mission in the interest of her loved ones, earth had no attraction for her, she wanted to go to that home where her soul would be at rest, she wanted to go where she knew her husband was waiting to receive her, two seasons the flowers had bloomed on his grave, two years and nineteen days had passed since she pressed her loving lips to his, when she called her children one by one to her bed-side, gave them her parting blessing, and secured a solemn vow that they would meet her in Heaven, she then through faith more than disease like a babe in its mother's arms, calmly and peacefully fell asleep in Jesus, and took the seat and starry crown reserved for her.

     Her body now rests with father's, and her soul with his in that beautiful home they so often spoke of in class meetings, just a few steps from their graves.

     Mother died April 6 1875

     There are two graves, just side by side,
          Both beneath some growing flowers,
     And they tell us of those who died,
          Ones fathers, the other mothers.

     There are two forms, just side by side,
          Near by them, rest many others,
     But these two forms, had been our guide,
          Ones fathers, the other mothers.

     Two bodies sleep beneath these flowers,
          They loved my sisters and brothers,
     Loved them dearly through many hours,
          Ones fathers, the other mothers.

     Dear brother, when you see these graves,
          And the vine that round them hovers,
     Think of them as in younger days,
          Ones fathers, the other mothers.

     Sister, I know you'll drop a tear,
          Pure in love as any lovers,
     Over the graves we love so dear,
          Ones fathers, the other mothers.

     Dear stranger, please, when we are gone,
          Guard these graves like loving brothers,
     Remember when you pass along,
          Ones fathers, the other mothers.

Dear brothers and sisters
     Our parents are gone to that world from whence no traveler can return except the son of God. They cannot come to us, but we can go to them by traveling on that narrow path opened up by him who shed his precious blood on the Cross, that none need perish but that all might have eternal life. Who among us would call them back if we could, or who among us would deprive them of one moment in glory. Yet, I have often thought I would like to talk to them , to tell them how much I loved them, and to ask them to forgive the many times I have given them needless pain, and that if I had them with me, I would in some way try to pay them at least in part the great debt of gratitude I owe them, but, then this cannot be, they cannot leave their sunny shore, they cannot recross the river to this cold world. The time was when I could have been more kind to them, but it is not now. The book of the past is sealed, and I cannot open it to revise its pages, all that is written in it against this poor soul must stand on the record untill the Judge decides my case.

     I am now fifty three years old and seems but yesterday, that I was a little boy, when our parents were comparatively young, and devising a way and means to support their family, and I fancy I can hear the childish shouts of little brothers and sisters when we played together on the green fields, and the wild flowers we gathered seem to yet send forth their sweet fragrance, and to retain their richness of color. The old spring-house, bee-palace, garden and barn. I remember so well, that I could yet go to them in the dark from the door of our old home. I can see the crystal bubbles rising up in the old spring of water, dancing and chasing one another, and reflecting my face like so many mirrors, and its little meandering brook, that playfully found its way down the hill side, and on its way to be lost in the unknown depths of the ocean, reminds me that, I too have been traveling towards the unknown depths of eternity, but I trust not to be lost. The old path that led over the fields, over the hills, over the wallies and through the woods to the school house. I think I could yet trace at least I see it in my mind, and feel Catharines warm hand as she led me on its way. I remember that we often stopped in grand mother Blacks little log cabin to warm, and I remember Shutts cross dog, and the no less cross teacher Sam Morninger, who held a whip in his hand all day as if with it he could draw the outline of a, b and c on my memory, and with it inculcate the rudiments of true love in my heart and the old wooden clock as it stood on the bureau pointing off the minutes of time to be added to my age I can yet see and hear striking off the hours.

     All this seems to have occurred but yesterday, and I can hardly believe that the sun has wailed his face beneath the horizon over seventeen thousand times since then, but as the scythe hay cut forty seven years from the calendar of time whose skeletons can be counted in the wreck of the past. I must believe it, and how forcibly it proves the declaration of Job, who said, Man that is born of a woman is of few days, and full of trouble. He cometh forth as a flower, and is cut down.

     Then, we might say, that yesterday our family was unbroken, we were all together, all happy and full of life and hope. Today the parent trees and two of the younger which bloomed in our grove have been cut down like the flower, and have faded from our view. This then is our day of trouble, the scythe is swung back, but for a moment it hangs suspended by the mercy of God, time cannot be put back, we cannot set the sun back on its dial, the edict has gone forth, and the scythe must come forward, we must be cut down, and soon the time and place that now know us, will know us no more, and, if we have so lived or bloomed in this life that the Judge will consider our beauty and fragrance worthy of the bowery of Heaven, we will there be stored otherwise, we will be destroyed as in a lake of fire, but dear brothers and sisters, while the scythe hangs suspended, let us cultivate the divine principles of justice and truth in our heart, let us soothe and heal the wounds that each must bear, and should such a duty seem unpleasant to any one, you will not have a long time to endure it, because if our lives are but a few days viz, yesterday and to day we have lived yesterday, and our gray hair and dim eyes admonish us that today is nearly gone, that the sun has passed over our noon Meridian, and is so low in the western sky, that its beams add but little warmth to our frail bodies and his feeble rays tend to cloud our vision, only a few more hours have we to bear one anothers burden, a few more troubles, a few more sorrows a few more pains, and the sun will hide his face from our suffering, which shall be the signal for the coming forward of the scythe to cut us down.

     By reason of the disparity of our ages, and other conditions, it is not likely that we will all come within the one stroke of the reaper of death, but they who may survive, if they have given needless pain to the fallen, will only live to regret that they had warred against the handful of dust that lays at their feet.

     Then, dear brothers and sisters, let me appeal to you again.

     Should we ever feel that we have cause to inflict a wound, let us strike with the instrument of love, and let us soothe and comfort one another as becometh children of one family.

     After a consideration of the work before me, I have concluded to write but a brief note of the lives of my brothers and sisters, this decision I hope will be acquiesced in by all, when it is remembered that this record is designed for my own children, that they may know of their ancestry, and I feel that my brothers and sisters by reason of a knowledge of themselves are more competent to write their own history than I am to do it for them.

     Catharine Cordrey was born June 12th 1832, and was married to Nathan Lafayette Heminger March 9- 1854. who was a progressive farmer, and an able class leader in the U.B. church, up to the time of his death, April 9 1885. He was a kind husband and a loving father, and his body now rests by the church house in which he so long and faithfully led his class.

     From this union there were born nine children viz

	Hannah	May 3-1856
	Rebecca	Feb. 14-1858
	Davis	Sep. 2-1859
	McClellan	Sep. 10-1861
	Rachel	April 10-1863
	Annie	July 15-1865
	Lula	May 15-1868
	William	June 9-1872
and	Edith May	May 28-1875

     Since writing the above sister Catharine has left us for home where pain and sorrow is unknown. Fifty nine years her little boat had been tossed on the billows of time. Fifty nine years her little vessel carried sunshine and comfort to her friends. Forty years of which she had accepted and known Jesus as the true captain and guider of her boat. In all this time, and in all the storms that threatened her sail, she looked to her captain, and prayed Dear Jesus I trust in thee, Bless my soul and keep my children from sin.

     On the 11th of July 1891, her little boat with Christ at its helm, was seen to set sail for a voyage over the silent river to that port where her husband was waiting to receive her, and where the King of glory was waiting to crown her with a crown of life.

     Perhaps, but few on a sick bed ever suffered more pain than she did, and perhaps, but few ever made a more complete submission to the will of God, than she made and there seemed to not be a doubtful or gloomy cloud between her and the shining walls of Heaven. Her whole soul being completely reconciled to God, spent its last breathing in exortations for her children, brothers and sisters to meet her in Heaven, and as a wave from her boat kissed the other shore, a wave on her breath was distinctly heard to say, Dear Lord. Thus she died with the love of God in her soul, and the name of Jesus on her tongue.

     Her body is now resting by the side of her husbands, and they who kneel at the altar to pray, where she so often prayed in the past thirty years, can see her grave just in front of the church house door,

     A few more deaths, a few more graves,
          Our family will be no more.
     A few more storms, a few more waves,
          Will place us on the other shore.

     It is a solemn thing to die,
          To die and leave our friends so true,
     But the next to go may be I,
          We cannot tell it may be you.

     Dorcas Jane Cordrey, was born April 2-1834, and married to John Reardon, Nov. 4 1852, who was a good farmer, and enlisted into the U.S. service July 1862, for three years, and was known as one of the bravest of soldiers, and was fatally wounded in the battle of Kenesaw Mountain, June 27-1864, died July 2 1864, died July 2 1864, and was buried in the National Cemetery at Chatanooga Tenn. At the time he received his wound, the regiment had been ordered to be down, but John would not humble his body before or to any rebel who disgraced the flag of his country, but stood up, and bravely fought for it untill the hateful rebel bullet lay him down.

     There were born to them four children viz.

	Eliza Ann	April 16-1854
	William	Aug. 23-1856
	Martha Jane	Nov. 11-1860
and	Hannah Catharine	Ap. 9-1863

     She then about the year 1869, married Harmon Sheeler, a prominent merchant, who died, and with him had one child viz.

Louisa

born

April 16-1870

     She then married Davis P. Hemmeger, with whom she is now living in Canton O. and who is a worthy minister of the gospel in the Baptist church.

     Their marriage took place Aug 23 '/78

     Dorcas
     Died, August 7, 1913. and was buried in the U.B. Cemetery Fairfield Tp. Tus. Co. O.

     Eliza Ann Cordrey, was born March 19-1836, and was a dutiful child to her parents, and a loving sister, always kind and considerate of the wants of others, even to the exclusion of her own need.

     We cannot look back to the days of our childhood without remembering the sweet smiles and cheerful voice of Eliza Ann, we cannot forget that then she led us over the sunny banks of the green fields, with her loving hand, and we cannot forget her many thousand deeds of kindness. The few years she lived with us seem to have passed like a dream, yet we know that they were real, because she wrote them on our hearts with the finger of her love. Yes, I know they are because a finger of the hand with which I hold my pen, has a scar made fifty years ago from a wound which she led me to the house for mother to tie up, and I remember that when my feelings were wounded she so often soothed them with kind words, and I dons think that I assume too much when I say, that a better child, a better sister, a better wife, a better mother and a better Christian never lived than she was.

     She was married to Davis P. Hemmeger Jan 13-1856, who was a machanic, and from this union there were born nine children viz.

	Martha Elen	Dec. 30 -1856
	Charles	July 1-1858
	Bertha	Feb. 28-1859
	John William	Oct. 19-1860
	Lorenzo	Oct. 23-1862
	May E.	Mar. 11-1865
	Thomas Perry	Aug. 24-1867
	Francis Ayres	Apr 22-1875
and	Henry A.	Aug. 13-1877

     She joined the U.B. church in the Bisel meeting house at about the same time father and mother did, and remained a consistent member up to the time of her death, which occurred Mar 13-1878, and was buried by the side of her parents a few steps from where she learned to love her Savior. Dear Sister

Sleep then with father and mother,
So close by the side of their tomb,
Then arise with one another,
When called to your heavenly home.

     Jacob Cordrey was born Sep. 4 1840, and grown up chose for his avocation that of a farmer and machanic, and has always been known as an industrious man, a kind husband and good father. He was married to Anna Zimmerman, Jan 18 1861, and had in the family five children viz.

	Francis A.	born	Aug. 19-1862
	Thomas		July 11-1864
	Elen		Sep 16-1866
	Ollie		Oct. 13-1872
and	Elmore		Oct. 28-1869

     His domestic affairs have been an embarrassing nature, and not calculated to give him the comfort and wealth that his good nature and industry demands, but it is believed that if he adheres to the plan now laid down that his future life will be happier than his past. At the outbreak of the Rebellion, his brothers joined the Union army with the understanding, that he should remain at home and assist father, but that to him did not seem like helping to put down the rebellion, so he hired a substitute for that purpose and paid him several hundred dollars.


     Thomas Perry Cordrey, was born Feb. 8-1843, and was married to Minnie V. Whitzell, July 13-1865, and with her had one child viz.

Ida

     His wife dying he married Malinda Neff, Dec 24-1869, and with her had two children viz.

	Warren Demoin
and	Birdie Malinda

     Malinda his wife died, Nov. 26-1872.

     He then married Annie E. Smith, May 22-1873, with whom he is living in Canton O. There has been born to them three children viz.

	Arlington A.
	Dorra Lotta
and	William H.

     On the 8th of July 1862, he enlisted in the Union army for three years, and served untill the close of the war with much distinction.

     His bravery in battle, and the many thrilling incidents connected with his provost duty, would make interesting material for a historians pen, many of which I would like to record, and am sorry they do not come within the scope of this book.

     He was engaged in the following battles viz. Richmond, Synthean, Perryville, Crabb Orchard, Stoneriver, Missionridge, Lookout Mountain, Buzzards roost, Resacca, Rome, Kenesaw Mt., Peech tree creek, Snake creek gap, Atlanta, Golds Borrough and Ralah, and was a member of the 52 O.V.I.

     He seems to have inherited much of the enterprising spirit of his father, having been found in various pursuits of life such as mercantile, civil engeneering, inventing and building railroads on contract. They who travel on the Cin. & Springfield, Columbus & Springfield, Lake Shore & Tus. Valley and the Cuyahoga valley rail-roads, will see fills and cuts especially so between Akron & Cleveland O. standing as monuments of his industry.

     Thomas died April 24 1901. and was buried in the soldiers burial ground in the Canton O. Cemetery.

     Martha E. Cordrey, was born Feb. 20-1847, and was married to Andrew Border, July 12-1868. There has been born to them nine children viz.

	John H.	July 26-1869
	Emma A.	Jan. 20-1871
	Samuel L.	Jan. 25-1873
	Rebecca A.	Sep 18-1875
	William L.	Oct. 6-1878
	Louisa W.	Oct. 6-1878
	Annie E.	Oct. 15-1881
	Jacob W.	Nov. 18-1884
and	Francis C.	Sep. 27-1889

     Mr Border, her husband is a practical miner by profession, and seems to take great pleasure in forming artificial caverns, and in throwing the internal wealth of the earth on its surface as if nature had erred in making her deposits, but, then man must have these minerals, and the Nation owes a debt of gratitude to the brave men who go into the dark and dismal caverns of the earth for its rich treasures. He also, has the proud distinction of having been a gallant soldier for his country in the War of 1861-5. serving four years in Co. C. 110th P.V.I. and bravely defending his flag in all the most important battles fought by the army of the Potomac, such as Fredericksburg, Mine Run, Wilderness, Spottsylvania, Cold Harbor and many others not less bloody, up to the close of the war, fought by the Army of the Potomac.

     Louisa Cordrey was born Feb. 19-1850, and was married to John Dessecker, May 12-1870, who has been an enterprising farmer, and iron ore contractor, and by his industry and persevereance has accumulated considerable wealth, owning one of the finest farms on the Sandyville road, leading from New Philadelphia O. His farm buildings etc. are models of taste and beauty tilling the traveler, that here is home and all the comforts that make it sweet, and like my other brothers inlaw, has adorned his home with Christian years, which outshine all glittering gold, and make home a paradise even though want should linger on its threshhold.

     There have been born to them five children viz.

	James	Nov. 24-1870
	Minnie V.	Dec 23-1872
	Arlington	June 4-1880
	Wilmer	Oct. 18-1883
and	Lorentz	Aug. 1-1885

     Louisa
     Died August 21 1913 and was buried in the U.B. Cemetery Fairfield Tp. Tus. Co. O.

     It is naturally to be expected that children, brought up under the influences of pious and industrious parents as my brothers and sisters have been, that they should become good citizens, and in turn, that they bring up their children in a way that they will honor their parents, themselves and the society in which they more, and we are glad in knowing, that we have no brothers and sisters, that ever brought disgrace on themselves or the family of which their names formed a part, and that each, from the cradle through the years rolled by, has find to promote the best friendship and interest of one another, and in doing so, we have not only evaded needless pain, but have learned the truth of Him who said, "Blessed are the peacemakers." It is a fact worthy of notice that this family of children all remained at home untill they became of age, that all were industrious and obedient, so much so, that it was felt and urged by the heirs in the closing up of the estate, that each should have like shares. But this family of children once so happy under the same parental roof, and at the same parental altar and fire-side, except the dear ones who sleep in their graves, is now out on the ocean of life, each at the helm of his own boat, and the success that each will have depends on how the steering is done, and the storms that strike the vessel. Then in conclusion, let me say, though the waters may be rough or smooth, wide or deep, let us steer our boats toward the harbor of eternal rest.