----- Original Message ----- From: "Harriet Chase" <hatchase@uswest.net> To: "andydso" <andy_figueroa@episcopal-dso.org>; <mbhatch@juno.com>; <Pictallen@aol.com>; "SLWillig" <valcour@earthlink.net> Sent: Monday, November 20, 2000 9:55 AM Subject: LIFE OF PHILANDER CHASE #20 | by Laura Chase Smith, Dutton Press 1903 | | CHAPTER XIV ORGANIZING PARISHES AND FARM cont'd | | Letter to son, George continues | At Worster I entered upon my old track,but there had been so much rain that | it could not be followed by reason of an unadated prairie. A Mr. Skinner | said that he would go with us and help us to get over the Lake Fork of the | Mehicken, at a place three miles before we came to his house, where some of | the party at least might stay over night. | | The sun was an hour and a half high when we reached the river, not very | wide, but deep and rapid. Two or three sons of the forest who had come to | help us, well acquainted with the water and good swimmers. They were from | fourteen to sixteen years old an nth most alert and obliging fellows I ever | saw. | | The only means of transportation we had was a canoe from twelve to fifteen | feet long, and broad enough in the broadest place for a man of my size to | sit down by squeezing a little. Well! how sped we? The horses were first | mounted one by one, six in number, by our brave young lads and plunged | headlong into the rapid current. Pray fancy to yourself this lively scene, | your mother with your little brother in her arms, who could scarcely be | restrained from << jumping out for>> love of the wild flowers on the bank, | and Elmira sitting on the baggage. | | The young woodsmen mounted the horses with more adroitness than a riding | master, without a bridle, and dashed them down the steep bank into the | stream, to them, bottomless. The first you would see after this would be | the heads of the boys and the horses, and then, from the rebound and | struggle of the animal, the forelegs striking in quick succession the swift | surface of the stream; then by cuffing one side and then the other, as they | steered up or down the stream, the boys got them safe across, and the horses | were soon feeding in the green pastures on the other side. | | Now for our wagons, our baggage, and our precious selves! The bodies of the | wagons were poised on our little canoe, a pound's weight would seem to be | fatal o either reside, yet th lads managed them.. Did you ever see rope | dancers? I have, and I assure you it was nothing to this. The boys stood | on the bow and stern of the little canoe and got everything across the | flowing tide. The wheels were transported in the same way, and such was the | smallness of the skiff and the rapidity of the current that the wheels, as | the bow of the canoe was kept nearly up the stream, were set in motion as if | they were on land propelled a horse. | | Then with your little brother in my arms I committed myself to the mere | pig's trough. Did I look back to your mother as we pushed this precious load | from this firm land? I did; a mother's prayer was read in every feature, | and a mother's prayer was graciously answered. We got safe to shore. | | What think you of my feelings as our brave lads took on board their next | precious cargo, your mother and Aunt Elmira? I watched the motion of the | little ark of safety till all was well. | | Unconscious of its speed we saw not the fast -setting sun, and the shades of | evening were upon us. It bade us made haste and be off. Our carriage was | soon ready, our goods replaced, and we went on our way to the very | settlement, where Mr. Skinner was beginning to make his home and where he | opened his farm and plantation three months ago. Good cheer made amends for | the dangers we had suffered. In the morning <<Sunday>> it rained, and we had | two more forks to pass. At this hour they were forbade, but might not be so | with an hour's rain. To go on was a necessity. On Monday through the bad | roads we reached Fredrick. On Monday to Berkshire, on Tues to Worthington. | | The next day, although much fatigued, your mother went to see my farm, and | happy I am to say, she is pleased beyond my expectations. the apples are fit | to make pies, and the peaches almost beginning to blush. I am now very busy | in building a barn and farm house. As to my house in town, it must be left | until I am better prepared. | | My dear George, remember my prayer is always for you, that you may be kept | in peace, in health and safe from sin. Do nothing without your uncle's | advice. Write to me often, and remember with what tender affection I am | Your Father, | Philander Chase | end of letter | | "In closing this letter long years after, "says Mr. Chase, "I am thrilled | with the memories of the days when it was written; the son to whom it was | addressed has long since gone, and his younger brother also. | | Their dear mother went away even before the sons, yet the providence and | goodness of God remain as fresh to me as ever; the same hand that then | upheld me and kept me and them in His care, now sustains the aged frame of | the husband and father in the discharge of his overwhelming duties and in | sustaining his painful trials." | | end Chapter XIV Harriet M. Chase hatchase@uswest.net | | | | | | | | |