In rough log cab-ins, out in the midst of wild woods, we have read that
six of our pres-i-dents were born; the sev-enth, James A-bram Gar-field,
was born in Or-ange, O-hi-o, on No-vem-ber 19th, 1831.
His fa-ther had built, with his own hands, their small, rude home; and
it stood deep in the wild wood, whose trees would, at times, catch fire
from the sparks thrown from the steam en-gines some miles off. Near the
Gar-field home was their field of grain; one day this caught fire, and
in trying to save his wheat, the fa-ther of lit-tle James lost his life.
It was a hard life to which he left his young wife and the four lit-tle
ones; but she was a brave good wo-man; she had to work hard of course,
and so did the boys; but the moth-er taught them from books as well; and
lit-tle James was but four years old when he went to his first school.
He was a tough, strong boy, and soon did a large part of the farm
work; in the long sum-mers he had the most work to do, and then in the
win-ters he could go to school; he was a brave boy, for the school was
miles from home, and his road lay through the deep woods, in which wild
beasts roamed at will. But he went his way, and if he felt fear, did not
show it; he had a great love for books, and late at night, with the big
wood-fire for his light, he would read o-ver and o-ver his few books.
His moth-er had taught him to love the Bi-ble, and this Good Book he
knew well. But, at last, the time came when he was so old that he could
leave home, and so help the moth-er more than he had done. The first
thing he did was to drive mules on the tow-path of the O-hi-o Ca-nal;
here he earned $10.00 a month, but the men he met were coarse and rough,
and the life rude and vile; so, with a sad heart, the young boy, fresh
from his good home in the qui-et woods, took what he had made here, and
went back to the place he loved. He was sick for a long while now; and
as he lay on his bed, he made up his mind that he would go to col-lege,
and lead a good, use-ful life out in the big world; that he would use
his brains more than his hands. With this hope in front of him, he made
mon-ey in the sum-mer to pay his way at school in win-ter; and soon knew
all that they could teach and went to Hi-ram Col-lege; here at first he
did all sorts of work to pay his way; rang the bells, swept the floors,
and built the fires; but he was soon paid to teach in the col-lege, for
he was too bright and quick to do such hard work long. In 1854, he went
to Wil-liams Col-lege, and left at the head of his class in 1856.
From now on he rose fast; he taught school when he left col-lege; his
boys loved the big strong man and said so much in his praise, that men
learned to love him too; and in 1859 he was made one of the O-hi-o
Sen-ate, and soon af-ter sent to Con-gress. Then came the Civ-il War,
in which he fought brave-ly; he won much fame in some of the great
bat-tles, and was made a gen-er-al. He was a warm, close friend of
Lin-coln; and on the day of Lin-coln's death, it was Gar-field who spoke
such calm, good words to a mob of men on Wall Street, New York, that he
kept them from rash acts at this sad time. At the close of the war,
Gar-field was in Eu-rope for a short time; and when he came home, he was
sent to Con-gress, where he kept his seat for a long time. In 1880 he
was named for pres-i-dent, and took his seat in 1881. But there was a
great grief in store for this land, once more. On July 2d, 1881, just
four months from the time he took his seat, Gar-field was shot by
Charles Gui-teau, as he, with James G. Blaine, was on his way to take a
train north from Wash-ing-ton. They bore him back to the White House,
and the man who had done this foul act was seized. The whole land prayed
for Gar-field's life, but he grew worse fast; and it was thought best
at last to take him to Long Branch, where it was cool-er than in
Wash-ing-ton. But the long, hot months dragged on; and the sick man did
not grow well in the cool salt air, as it had been hoped; in spite of
all care, the pres-i-dent failed day by day; and on Sep-tem-ber 19th,
1881, the whole world heard with sorrow of this good man's death. The
great men of the day wept side by side, as Gar-field lay in state in
Wash-ing-ton; and men of note, in all walks of life, felt his death as
a great grief. He now lies at rest in Cleve-land, O-hi-o. Gui-teau was
hanged for the crime he had done; and it is but just to say, that some
thought he was not in his right mind when he shot Gar-field.