Twenty Years of Hus'ling
yoking them together before they were weaned. I broke and raised one
pair until they were four years old, when Mr. Keefer sold them for a
good round sum. I shall never forget an incident that occurred, about
the time this yoke of steers were three years old, and when I was about
twelve years of age.
One of my school mates and I had played truant one afternoon, and
concluded to have a little fun with the steers, as my parents were away
from home that day. We yoked them together, and I thought it a clever
idea to hitch them to a large gate post which divided the lane and
barn-yard, and see them pull. From this post Mr. Keefer had just
completed the building of a fence, running to the barn, and had nailed
the rails at one end, to this large post and had likewise fastened the
ends of all the rails together, by standing small posts up where the
ends met, and nailing them together, which made a straight fence of
about four or five rods, all quite securely fastened together.
I hitched the steers to it, stepped back, swung my whip, and yelled,
"Gee there," and they did "gee." Away they went, gate post and fence
following after. I ran after them, yelling "whoa," at the top of my
voice, but they didn't "whoa," and seemed bent on scattering fence-rails
over the whole farm. One after another dropped off as they ran several
rods down the lane, before I was able to overtake and stop them.
Realizing that we were liable to be caught in the act, we unhitched
them on the spot, and after carrying the yoke back to the barn, went
immediately to school so as to be able to divert suspicion from
ourselves.
On the arrival home of my folks, which occurred just as school was out,
Mr. Keefer drove to the barn, and at once discovered that his new fence
had been moved and scattered down the lane--which was the most
mysterious of anything that had ever occurred in our family. He looked
the ground all over, but as we had left no clue he failed to suspect me.
The case was argued by all members of the family and many theories
advanced, and even some of the neighbors showed their usual interest in
trying to solve the mystery.
Of course it was the generally accepted belief that it was the
spite-work of some one, but who could it be, and how on earth could
anyone have done such a dare-devil thing in broad day light, when from
every appearance it was no small task to perform, was the wonder of all.
The more curious they became the more fear I had of exposure.
A few days later while Mr. Keefer and I were in the barn, he remarked,
that he would like to know who tore that fence down.
I then acknowledged to him that I knew who did it, and if he would agree
to buy me a "fiddle," I would tell him all about it. He had for years
refused to allow the "noisy thing in the house," as he expressed it, but
thinking to clear up the mystery, he agreed, and I made a frank
confession.
After this, he said he would buy me the fiddle when I became of age, and
as I had failed to make any specifications in my compromise with him, he
of course had the best of me.
I was not long, however, in getting even with him. I had a well-to-do
uncle (my own father's brother) J. H. Johnston, in the retail jewelry
business, at 150 Bowery, N. Y., (at which place he is still located). I
wrote him a letter explaining my great ambition to become a fiddler, and
how my folks wouldn't be bothered with the noise. I very shortly
received an answer saying, "Come to New York at once at my expense; have
bought you a _violin_, and want you to live with me until you are of
age. You can attend school, and fiddle to your heart's content."
He also said, that after I had attended school eight years there, he
would give me my choice of three things; to graduate at West Point,
learn the jewelry business, or be a preacher.
When this letter was read aloud by my mother, in the presence of the
family and a couple of neighbor boys, who had called that evening, it
created a great deal of laughter.
One of the boys asked if my uncle was much acquainted with me, and when
informed he had not seen me since I was two years old, he said that was
what he thought.
My mother fixed me up in the finest array possible, and with a large
carpet bag full of clothes, boots, shoes, hats, caps and every thing
suitable, as she supposed, for almost every occasion imaginable. After
bidding adieu forever to every one for miles around, I started for my
new home.
On arriving at my uncle's store, he greeted me kindly, and immediately
hustled me off to a clothing establishment, where a grand lightning
change and transformation scene took place. I was then run into a barber
shop for the first time in my life, and there relieved of a major
portion of my crop of hair.
When we reached his residence I was presented to the family, and then
with the fiddle, a box of shoe blacking and brush, a tooth brush,
clothes brush, hair brush and comb, the New Testament and a book of
etiquette.
I was homesick in less than twenty-four hours.
I would have given ten years of my life, could I have taken just one
look at my yoke of steers, or visited my old quail trap, down in the
woods, which I had not failed to keep baited for several winters in
succession and had never yet caught a quail.
Whenever I stood before the looking glass, the very sight of myself,
with the wonderful change in appearance, made me feel that I was in a
far-off land among a strange class of people.
Then I would think of how I must blacken my shoes, brush my clothes,
comb my hair, live up to the rules of etiquette and possibly turn out to
be a preacher.
I kept my trouble to myself as much as possible, but life was a great
burden to me.
My uncle was as kind to me as an own father, and gave me to understand,
that whenever I needed money I had only to ask for it. This was a new
phase of life, and it was hard for me to understand how he could afford
to allow me to spend money so freely. But when he actually reprimanded
me one day for being stingy, and said I ought to be ashamed to stand
around on the outside of a circus tent and stare at the advertising
bills when I had plenty of money in my pocket, I thought then he must be
"a little off in his upper story." Of course I didn't tell him so, but I
really think for the time being he lowered himself considerably in my
estimation, by trying to make a spendthrift of me. I had been taught
that economy was wealth, and the only road to success. I thought how
easily I could have filled my iron bank at home, in which I had for
years been saving my pennies, had my folks been like my uncle.
Altogether it was a question hard to solve, whether I should remain
there and take my chances of being a preacher and possibly die of
home-sickness, with plenty of money in my pockets, or return to Ohio,
where I had but a few days before bidden _farewell forever_ to the whole
country, and where I knew hard work on the farm awaited me, and economy
stared me in the face, without a dollar in my pocket.
Of the two I chose the latter and returned home in less than three
weeks a full fledged New Yorker. I brought my fiddle along and succeeded
in making life a burden to Mr. Keefer, who "never _was_ fond of music,
anyhow," and who never failed to show a look of disgust whenever I
struck up my tune.
Before I left New York, my uncle very kindly told me that if I would
attend school regularly after getting home, he would assist me
financially.
He kept his promise, and for that I now hold him in grateful
remembrance.
I made rather an uneventful trip homeward, beguiling the time by playing
my only tune which I had learned while in New York--"The girl I left
behind me." It proved to be a very appropriate piece, especially after I
explained what tune it was, as there were some soldiers on board the
cars who were returning home from the war. They were profuse in their
compliments, and said I was a devilish good fiddler, and would probably
some day make my mark at it.
I felt that I had been away from home for ages, and wondered if my folks
looked natural, if they would know me at first sight, and if the town
had changed much during my absence.
When I alighted from the train at Clyde, I met several acquaintances
who simply said, "How are you Perry? How are the folks?"
Finally I met one man who said, "How did it happen you didn't go to New
York?"
Another one said:
"When you going to start on your trip, Perry? Where'd you get your
fiddle?"
I then started for the farm, and on my arrival found no change in the
appearance of any of the family.
My mother said I looked like a corpse.
Mr. Keefer said he was glad to see me, but sorry about that cussed old
fiddle.
CHAPTER II.
MY MOTHER WISHES ME TO LEARN A TRADE--MY BURNING DESIRE TO BE A
LIVE-STOCK DEALER--EMPLOYED BY A DEAF DROVER TO DO HIS HEARING--HOW I
AMUSED MYSELF AT HIS EXPENSE AND MISFORTUNE.
I then began attending school at Clyde, Ohio, boarding at home and
walking the distance--three miles--during the early fall and late
spring, and boarding in town at my uncle's expense during the cold
weather.
At the age of sixteen I felt that my school education was sufficient to
carry me through life and my thoughts were at once turned to business.
My mother frequently counseled with me and suggested the learning of a
trade, or book-keeping, or that I take a position as clerk in some
mercantile establishment, all of which I stubbornly rebelled against.
She then insisted that I should settle my mind on _some one thing_,
which I was unable to do.
My greatest desire was to become a dealer in live stock, which
necessitated large capital and years of practical experience for assured
success.
This desire no doubt had grown upon me through having been frequently
employed by an old friend of the family, Lucius Smith, who was in that
business.
He was one of the most profane men in the country, as well as one of the
most honorable, and so very deaf as to be obliged to have some one
constantly with him to do the hearing for him.
He became so accustomed to conversing with me as to enable him to
understand almost every thing I said by the motion of my lips. For these
services he paid me one dollar per day and expenses. I used to amuse
myself a great deal at his expense and misfortune. He owned and drove an
old black mare with the "string-halt" and so high-spirited that the
least urging would set her going like a whirlwind.
Whenever we came to a rough piece of road I would sit back in my seat
and cluck and urge her on in an undertone, when she would lay her ears
back and dash ahead at lightning speed.
Mr. Smith unable to hear me or to understand the reason for this, would
hang on to the reins as she dashed ahead, and say: "See 'er go! See 'er
go! The ---- old fool, see 'er go! Did you ever see such a crazy ----
old fool as she is? See 'er go! See 'er go! Every time she comes to a
rough piece of road she lights out as if the d----l was after her. See
'er go! The crazy old fool. See 'er go!"
It was alone laughable to see the old mare travel at a high rate of
speed on account of lifting her hind feet so very high in consequence of
her "string-halt" affliction.
As soon as the rough road was passed over I would quit urging her, and
she would quiet down to her usual gait.
Then Lute, with a look of disgust, would declare that he would trade the
---- crazy old fool off the very first chance he had "if he had to take
a goat even up for her."