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1932 Stories

AN OLD PIONEER

By Philip Swift, Dist. 88

My story begins many years ago in a little farmhouse perched on the side of a steep Vermont hill. Here lived some of the descendants of the early New England settlers who cleared the thick woods, tried to farm the rocky soil and earn a living for their families.

These early settlers had long hours of hard work and had to struggle against cold and snow during the winter months.

At the foot of this hill was a little church with a burying ground nearby and a few houses grouped into a little village, called Barnard.

Sheep were plentiful, as they could graze upon the grass-covered hills and in the timber. The wool was carded, spun and twisted into yarn, which was later made into stockings, mittens and clothing. The tallow was made into candles, as that was the only means of light they had for their homes.

Wood was their only fuel, but it was plentiful because of the timber surrounding their homes.

A few venturesome relatives had gone to the "Far West," to the wonderful Illinois prairie, and settled near Magnolia. Word was sent back of the flat, black soil there.

The family of this little home had grown up, the wife had died and a nephew and his bride helped the uncle with the farm work during the summer. When winter came this nephew went to Cape Cod to teach school. Each year when the fishermen along the cape had finished their fishing and had their fishing nets and fleets repaired for the next season, they attended school during the winter months. Many of these men were older than "Cap'n," as they called their schoolmaster.

This uncle became very interested in the stories sent back of the rich Illinois land, so when his nephew returned in the spring from Cape Cod he left him in charge of the homestead and he started out to walk to Illinois. After many days of hard walking he bought a pure-bred Morgan mare named Fanny and finished his journey on horseback.

A journey by land for hundreds of miles at that day, through a country, most of it unsettled, without bridges or roads, can hardly be imagined now with our excellent roads and means of transportation. He was compelled to camp in the open; stopping at night on the bank of some stream where wood and water were plentiful and sleeping on the ground all night. This kind of life exposed him to great dangers of both animals and diseases, but also gave him a good chance to see the different kinds of soil in the West.

One night he stopped at a farmhouse. The next morning when he was ready to leave he could not find his purse. After hunting a long time he told the settler about his loss. The settler, not wanting him to think he had been robbed, urged him to look again, and after a long search they found the purse in the pockets of his third pair of breeches. He was wearing his extra supply of clothes as the easiest way. of carrying them. While putting them on he got them exchanged so that the pair he had been wearing on top was on the bottom. After a hearty laugh he started on his journey again. It took many days of hard riding before he reached his relatives, who were living in the vicinity of Magnolia.

The flatness of the soil appealed to him, and the level land seemed a miracle compared with the hills of Vermont. He liked the country so well he decided to stay there.

In Vermont the wood they used for fuel took much time and labor to prepare, so hearing that coal was dug and sold at a reasonable price near Hardscrabble, now called Streator, he decided to locate near there. He found 240 acres with a house already completed. The lumber for the house was shipped to Ottawa by canal boat and hauled overland by wagon. At this time it was one of the finest houses in the country. When this shabby old Vermonter asked the owner how much he would take for the farm he said, "Sixty dollars an acre," and laughed behind his back because he thought the old Vermonter had no money. He was surprised when he took from his pocket enough money to pay the fee to bind the bargain and then sent a messenger back to Vermont for the rest of the money. He paid the owner the remainder of the debt and became owner of the farm.

He lived here until he died, then his nephew and wife lived here; the nephew teaching school in the vicinity for twenty-five years. The land is still owned by his children, and old Fanny's descendants are still helping farm the rich Illinois prairie soil.

CONTINUE to NEXT 1932 story

Extracted 08 Nov 2018 by Norma Hass from Stories of Pioneer Days in La Salle County, Illinois, by Grammar Grade Pupils, published in 1932, page 7.


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