Twenty Years of Hus'ling
I preserved my credit--I take to the road again--Traveling by
team--Deciding a horse-trade--My book-keeper proposes an assignment--I
reject the proposition--Collecting old debts by stratagem.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Another horse trade--A heavy loss--Playing detective--My visit home--A
retrospect--Calling in my agents--A new scheme--It's a winner--Mr.
Keefer and my mother visit Chicago--His verdict, "It does beat the
devil."
CHAPTER I.
I was born near Ottawa, Illinois, January 6th, 1852, of Scotch-Irish
descent. My great-great-grandfather Johnston was a Presbyterian
clergyman, who graduated from the University of Edinburg, Scotland. My
mother's name was Finch. The family originally came from New England and
were typical Yankees as far as I have been able to trace them. My
father, whose full name I bear, died six months previous to my birth.
When two years of age my mother was married to a Mr. Keefer, of Ohio, a
miller by trade and farmer by occupation. Had my own father lived he
could not possibly have been more generous, affectionate, kind-hearted
and indulgent than this step-father.
And until the day of his death, which occurred on the 10th of July,
1887, he was always the same. This tribute is due him from one who
reveres his memory.
He had a family of children by his former wife, the youngest being a
year or two older than myself. Two daughters were born of this marriage.
A mixed family like the Keefer household naturally occasioned more or
less contention. More especially as the neighborhood contained those who
took it upon themselves to regulate their neighbors' domestic affairs in
preference to their own.
Consequently, in a few years, Mr. Keefer was severely criticised for not
compelling me to do more work on the farm, and for the interest he took
in schooling me.
As for myself, had I been hanged or imprisoned as often as those
neighbors prophesied I would be, I would have suffered death and loss of
freedom many times.
The farm life was distasteful to me from my earliest recollection. I
cannot remember ever having done an hour's work in this capacity except
under protest.
From this fact I naturally gained the reputation for miles around, of
being the laziest boy in the country, with no possible or probable
prospect of ever amounting to anything.
But they failed to give me credit for the energy required to walk three
miles night and morning to attend the village school, which afforded
better advantages than the district school.
When but a small lad my step-father gave me a cosset lamb which I raised
with a promise from him to give me half the wool and all of the
increase.
This, in a few years, amounted to a flock of over one hundred sheep. The
sale of my share of the wool, together with the yield from a potato
patch, which was a yearly gift from Mr. Keefer, was almost sufficient to
clothe me and pay my school expenses.
I should here add, that the potatoes above mentioned were the product of
the old gentleman's labor in plowing, planting, cultivating, digging and
marketing.
While I was expected to do this work, I was seldom on hand except on the
day of planting to superintend the job and see that the potatoes were
actually put into the ground, and again on market day to receive the
proceeds. During all my life on the farm, one great source of annoyance
and trouble to my step-father was my constant desire to have him
purchase everything that was brought along for sale, and to sell
everything from the farm that was salable.
In other words, I was always anxious to have him go into speculation. I
could not be too eager for a horse trade or the purchase of any new
invention or farm implement that had the appearance of being a
labor-saving machine.
Even the advent of a lightning-rod or insurance man delighted me, for it
broke the monotony and gave me some of the variety of life.
The rapid growth and development of my flock of sheep were partially due
to my speculative desires. I was persistent in having them gratified,
and succeeded, by being allowed the privilege of selling off the fat
wethers whenever they became marketable, and replacing them with young
ewes, which increased rapidly. These could be bought for much less than
the wethers would sell for.
My step-father was a man of more than ordinary common sense, and often
suggested splendid ideas, but was altogether too cautious for his own
good, and too slow to act in carrying them out.
While he and I got along harmoniously together, I am forced to admit
that my mother and myself had frequent combats.
There, perhaps, was never a more affectionate, kind-hearted mother than
she, and I dare say but few who ever possessed a higher-strung temper or
a stronger belief in the "spare the rod and spoil the child" doctrine.
At least, this was my candid, unprejudiced belief during those stormy
days. Why, I had become so accustomed to receiving my daily
chastisement, as to feel that the day had been broken, or something
unusual had happened, should I by chance miss a day.
The principle difficulty was, that I had inherited a high-strung,
passionate temper from my mother, and a strong self-will from my father,
which made a combination hard to subdue. In my later days I have come to
realize that I must have tantalized and pestered my mother beyond all
reason, and too often, no doubt, at times when her life was harassed,
and her patience severely tried by the misconduct of one or more of her
step-children, who, by the way, I never thought were blessed with the
sweetest of all sweet tempers, themselves. At any rate, whenever I got
on the war path, I seldom experienced any serious difficulty in finding
some one of the family to accommodate me. Notwithstanding, I usually
"trimmed" them, as I used to term it, to my entire satisfaction, and no
matter whether they, or I were to blame, it was no trouble for them to
satisfy my mother that I was the guilty one, despite my efforts to prove
an "alibi." For this I was sure to be punished, as I was also for every
fight I got into with the neighbor boys, whose great stronghold was to
twit me of being "lazy and red-headed."
I was, however, successful at last in convincing my mother that those
lads whom I was frequently fighting and quarreling with, were taking
every advantage of her action in flogging me every time I had difficulty
with them. They could readily see and understand that I was more afraid
of the "home rule" than I was of them, and would lose no opportunity to
say and do things to provoke me.
One day I came home from school at recess in the afternoon, all out of
sorts, and greatly incensed at one of the boys who was two years older
than myself, and who had been, as I thought, imposing upon me. I met Mr.
Keefer at the barn, and declared right _there and then_ that I would
never attend school another day, unless I could receive my parents' full
and free consent to protect myself, and to go out and fight that fellow
as he passed by from school that evening.
"Do you think you can get satisfaction?" he asked.
"I am sure I can," I answered.
"Well, then," he said, "I want you to go out and flog him good this
evening, and I'll go along and see that you have fair play."
"All right, I'll show you how I'll fix him," I answered.
About fifteen or twenty minutes later Henry and one of his chums came
from school to our barn-yard well for a pail of water.
I came to the barn door just in time to see them coming through the
gate. Mr. Keefer's consent that I should "do him up" gave me courage to
begin at once. I went to the pump, and throwing my cap on the ground,
said:
"See here, my father tells me to trim every mother's son of you that
twits me of being lazy and red-headed. Now, I'm going to finish you
first."
He was as much scared as he was surprised.
I buckled into him, and kick, bite, scratch, gouge, pull hair, twist
noses, and strike from the shoulder were the order of the day. I felt
all-confident and sailed in for all I was worth, and finished him in
less than three minutes, to the evident satisfaction of Mr. Keefer,
whom, when the fight was waxing hot, I espied standing on the dunghill
with a broad smile taking in the combat. I had nearly stripped my
opponent of his clothing, held a large wad of hair in each hand, his
nose flattened all over his face, two teeth knocked down his throat, his
shins skinned and bleeding, and both eyes closed. After getting himself
together he started down our lane, appearing dazed and bewildered. I
first thought he was going to a stone pile near by, but as he passed it
I began to realize his real condition, when I hurried to his rescue and
led him back to the water trough, and there helped to soak him out and
renovate him. After which his comrade returned to school alone with the
water, and he proceeded homeward.
After that I had no serious trouble with those near my own age, as it
was generally understood and considered that I had a license to fight
and a disposition to do so when necessary to protect my own rights.
When my mother heard of this she said I was a regular "tough."
Mr. Keefer said I could whip my weight in wild cats anyhow.
She said I deserved a good trouncing.
He said I deserved a medal and ought to have it.
My mother never seemed to understand me or my nature until the timely
arrival of an agent selling patent hay-forks, who professed to have a
knowledge of Phrenology, Physiognomy, and human nature in general. In
course of a conversation relative to family affairs, my mother remarked
that, with but one exception, she had no trouble in managing and
controling her children. He turned suddenly to me and said, "I see, this
is the one."
At this he called me to him and began a delineation of my character.
The very first thing he said was:
"You can put this boy on a lone island with nothing but a pocket knife,
and he will manage to whittle himself away."
From this, he went on to say many more _good things_ for me than _bad
ones_, which, of course, gratified me exceedingly.
But it was hot shot for others of the family who were present, and who
had never lost an opportunity to remind me of my future destiny.
This gentleman said to my mother, that the principle trouble was her
lack of knowledge of my disposition. That if she would shame me at times
when I was unruly, and make requests instead of demands when she wanted
favors from me, and above all, never to chastise me, she would see quite
a change for the better.
He also ventured the remark that some day, under the present management,
the boy would pack up his clothes, leave home, and never let his
whereabouts be known.
This opened my mother's eyes more than all else he had said, for I had
often threatened to do this very thing. In fact I had once been
thwarted by her in an effort to make my escape, which would have been
accomplished but for my anxiety to get possession of "the old shot gun,"
which I felt I would need in my encounter with Indians, and killing bear
and wild game. I might add that one of our neighbor boys was to decamp
with me, and the dime novel had been our guide.
From this time on there was a general reformation and reconciliation,
and my only regrets were that "hay forks" hadn't been invented several
years before, or at least, that this glorious good man with his stock of
information hadn't made his appearance earlier.
The greatest pleasure of my farm life and boyhood days was in squirrel
hunting and breaking colts and young steers.
My step-father always said he hardly knew what it was to break a colt,
as I always had them under good control and first-class training by the
time they were old enough to begin work.
Whenever I was able to match up a pair of steer calves, I would begin