Generous friends. Christian, Catholic Methodist, $1.50 $1.00
$0.00 A hawk story. April 15, 1865. All Irish but one. The
Bible in school. Not Papa.
During this period of my life, which included the latter part of the
Civil War, I was occupied mostly at Christian Liberty, and
Washington, Daviers County, Ind., both teaching and preaching. A
part of the two years following this was spent in school at
Indianapolis and Miram, Ohio. At Christian Liberty, my church house
and school house were in the same yard. On the first day I occupied
the one and on the second, third, fourth, fifth, and sixth days, I
occupied the other. And on the seventh day I rested. That is the
way teachers and preachers work. I am not a sabbatarian.
At Christian Liberty which was a country place I made my home for
almost four years in the family of W. A. Wilson. He was a well-to-do
farmer and had an interesting family. He was a good man, but
somewhat peculiar. For instance, as fast as I earned money teaching
he would borrow it, giving his note drawing legal interest, and when
the note was due he would pay it with the identical money he had
borrowed. He would also pay the interest. I asked why he did that,
"O" he would answer, "I always like to have money in my pocket."
"Then besides," he would add, "a young man ought to have his money at
interest." Mr. Wilson was a Christian and very generous and kind.
He only charged me $1.50 per week for board. I also boarded at
another period in my life in a Catholic family named Wade, for three
years. They, too, were kind and generous, charging me only $1.00 per
week. The father and mother were old and allowed me all the
privileges about the home as I were a son. More than that: they
allowed he all the liberty of a Protestant Christian, telling me to
read my Bible as much as I pleased, and if I wished to offer thanks
at the table to do so. This I did and they their crosses.
One Saturday, when sitting in my room in the spring of the year,
looking out of the open door I saw what not one boy in a million,
perhaps, ever saw. A large chicken hawk made a dive down in the yard
at an old hen and her brood of little chickens. Mrs. Wade heard the
noise and dashed out through the open door, and threw her apron over
the hawk, and caught it and choked it to death.
One winter when teaching in Tophet, I boarded with a Methodist man.
He too, was kind and generous to a fault. All he charged me was
nothing. He said it was worth more to have me live with his boys
than it cost to board me.
Teachers were elected to teach by ballot. There was an election
called, and several soldiers, who were at home on furlough, were
there, also others. They got into a wrangle about soldiers voting.
They came to blows. Just then a messenger came up on horseback, at
full speed, and cried out that Lincoln was assassinated. I never saw
such a sudden and marked change come on a company of men as came
then. The whole crowd soldiers, and others, the young candidates for
the school with the rest, came close together like stricken brothers
and wept even to tears. Not a word was said for several moments
until they began to leave for home, the director said, men we have
not voted yet. So they turned in all together without a word and
voted and went home. This was early Saturday forenoon April 15th,
1865.
On another occasion I was a candidate for the teacher's place in a
district where every family, except one, were Irish Catholics. The
exception as a Methodist. The Methodist man was chairman of the
school board. The election was called for one o'clock P. M. The
leading spirit of the district was a large, old, fine looking
Irishman, who had been educated for a priest. That day (it was in
the spring), there was a log rolling on the leader's farm, and every
man in the district was a Catholic except the chairman and myself. I
was a stranger, had never been in the district before. But the
Irishmen had heard of my success as a teacher in Tophet, and on their
coming down to the school house after dinner to vote the leader shook
hands with me and turning to the men he said, "Men, let's be after
voting for the tall sapling and get back to the logs." They all
voted and I received every vote but one and that was the chairman's
vote. In this school, I would every morning as had been my custom
elsewhere, read a small portion of the Bible, without word or
comment, and offer a short prayer for God's blessing upon us through
the day. I never had better behavior or as little trouble with any
other school as I had this term with these Irish Catholic children.
The Catholics, however, generally oppose the public reading of the
Bible and prayer in the public schools. I kindly asked a good
Catholic friend one day why they opposed the reading of the Bible. I
said, "The Bible is a good book." "Just so," he replied, "too good a
book for the common people to read." "Ah, I think not. God has
nothing too good for his children," said I. The teacher, however,
that reads and prays should be a good teacher.
Referring to the fact that these voters seemed to recognize me as
soon as they saw me, though they had never seen me before, reminds me
that has been my experience generally through life. I never could
account for people, who had only heard of me, knowing me upon first
sight, unless it was because of my long black beard and porcupinish
hair. There was one exception to this, however, when I was taken to
be quite another person. This I must now tell.
One year I went with Elder Joseph Wilson to a church in Lawrence
County, Indiana, called White River Union, to help him hold his
yearly protracted meeting. It was on Sunday morning. The elder and
I were seated on the rostrum when a woman and her little daughter
came in and taking seats, looking up at us, when the child pointing
at me whispered to her mother, "See Papa." The woman looked and
thought, (so she said afterwards)--why, sure enough." I did not
think he was coming. Upon second thought she knew it could not be
he, for he would not be in the pulpit. The fact was that the woman
and her child both thought at first without doubt that I was the
husband and the father, simply because I looked like him. The name
of this family was Malott, and the husband was doctor. I did not get
to see him. I wish I had. I would like to see the man that I look
so much alike, and even his wife and child could not tell the
difference. Perhaps I could see myself then as others see me, which
I, nor, any man has ever yet been able to do.
No two men or any two things are exactly alike. Nor should we always
judge a man by his looks.
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