Grandmother lived at our house from the time she was 83 until she died at 93. Helen and I were pretty small, and we loved to tease her. I would pretend that I was slapping Helen, and she would get up out of her chair and take after me, saying, "You mustn't hurt little Ailene," and this was quite a lark for us. She would sit and look at a fashion book by the hour. Then she would say, "I see by the fashions they are wearing such and such styles." Once she sewed a number of ribbon bows on her plain black silk "Sunday" dress, but the family wouldn't let her go to church with them on. She was about fifty years ahead of her generation as far as styles were concerned. However, the custom of her generation was very fixed on apparel. None of her children could remember when she didn't wear a white cap, so perhaps she had to don it when she married. I remember seeing pictures of Martha Washington with a cap on. After she was a widow, the caps were black. They were fashioned like a baby's bonnet and covered with black net and lace gathered onto the foundation. A milliner in Indiana made them. They tied under her chin, and she never appeared without her cap on. I remember my father telling about Uncle Jim. When he was a young man and was out rather late at night, he came home and put his horse away in his stall and thought he should get him some hay. Now in those days we seemed to develop a second sight that stood us in good stead at night. They didn't have flashlights and seldom would light a candle or lantern. Uncle Jim proceeded to crawl up into the haymow in the dark with a pitchfork. As he started to get the hay he jabbed his fork into an Italian, who let out the awfullest yell, accompanied by several others. He thought he had wakened up all Italy. He didn't know that in the evening some Italians had come along and asked his father if they could sleep in the haymow, which he had permitted, with the above results. There were lots of tramps in those days, who bummed their food as they went along. One approached my father in the field and asked him if he knew where he could get something to eat as he hadn't eaten since day before yesterday in the afternoon. Daddy sent him to the house, and Bess and Helen filled him up. He went up to the store in South Bend and said he hadn't had anything to eat since day before yesterday in the afternoon. They gave him crackers and cheese, and he went on to Montgomery's and told them the same story, and they fed him. He must have had as many stomachs as a cow. One thing we were scared of as children was gypsies. I can remember Helen and I hiding in the railfence corner and watching a clan of them go by our house. One day there was a clan went past and crossed the fording. Mother was over at the lane looking for a turkey nest, and after they went by quite a while, a boy came along riding a horse, and she said, "Aren't you afraid of the Gypsies?" and he said, "I'm one of them." Heilselmans lived near our home, and they placed their "Rest Room," or in those days what was called a privy, on the edge of a hill. One day Lizzie went out to meditate for a while, and it happened to be a very windy day, and all at once the privy with Lizzie in it rolled to the foot of the hill, which was about one hundred and fifty feet away. The only discomfort she had was that her meditations were interrupted and she had a sprained thumb. I don't recall whether they rebuilt it on the hill or at the bottom, but that would be a little too far in case of emergency. When my father bought out Mr. Allshouse to start to huckster to Pittsburgh, he got wagons, sled, and a team of horses named Harry and George. They were inseparable. If you took one out of the barn without the other, they fussed and pawed until the other was returned. One night they took George and another horse and went to West Lebanon to some meeting and left Harry. When they came home, the stable was full of steam and they found old Harry crumpled up in the stall with his neck broken. He had hung himself and died of a broken neck and broken heart. It was a good example of Damon and Pythias. In closing I would like to say that I think we were raised in a wonderful age. We didn't have the luxuries of life, but we had a good childhood and never went hungry. By the standards of today we would have been classed as a lower bracket family, but I am not sure that the standards we class someone in today are solid standards. We judged a person in those days for what he was, not how much money he represented. I think before it is all over, we will have to get back to judging a man for what he is and what he stands for. The poet has said, "The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth e're gave, Awaits alike the inevitable hour, The paths of glory lead but to the grave." So ends an era.