On the occasion of his 90th birthday reception he was called upon and in a few words thanked those present for the high compliment paid him. He spoke of the incidents connected with their moving from this place to their farm at McGuffin's Falls, and said the home to which he went was not a palace, but a log cabin, the ceiling was the roof, the floor was the ground, the carpet was the huckleberry bushes, and the windows were greased paper. As soon as the logs could be cut and hewn, a floor was made in the cabin. The first visitor they had was a huge wolf which they took to be an Indian's dog, and were afraid to kill it for fear the Indians would do them some injury. He also spoke of their troublesome neighbors, the bears; and said they were very destructive on their cornfields, and would carry off the young pigs, unless they had old hogs to protect them. If a bear came in sight of the hogs, the old ones immediately formed a circle, with heads out and the young inside the circle, when they were thus protected, the bear would not risk an attack. He gave an account of killing a huge black bear, one morning before breakfast, and named the many kinds of game, said the early settlers did not prize deer meat as highly as many do to-day. Living nearly a hundred years, he saw changes more wonderful than any we read of in any history before his day. Hon. Samuel Woods, of West Virginia, in congratulating him on reaching ninety-fifth mile stone on life's journery says: "Born in 1790. You have lived throught the most eventful period of the world's history. Older than any of the United States, except the old thirteen colonies, you have seen their population increase, from less than four to more than fifty millions, (at the time of his death 60,000,000) and the borders of civilization move from the western line of Pennsylvania to the shores of the Pacific Ocean. You have lived through every administration of the government of the United States, from that of General Washington. You remember every Presidential election from that of the elder Adams; and voted at every such election from that of Madison, down to that of President Cleveland! You were 22 years of age when .Congress declared war against Great Britain in 1812. You are older than the great French Revolution. You have seen the rise, the glory and the ruin of his first and the second French empires under the first and third Napoleons. During your lifetime nearly every kingdon, dynasty, principality and power in Europe has been revolutionized, subverted and reconstructed; the rights and power of kings and potentates restricted and limited, and the rights and liberties of its subjects enlarged, established and secured. You have witnessed the rise, progress and development of the steam engine, in its application to manufactures, and modes of travel by the land and by the water, over the mountains, deserts, rivers, lakes and oceans, with a speed outstripping the winds, and with such resistless force as laughs at storms and winds and waves. The sun now paints the portraits of the friends we love. The lightning carries our messages to the uttermost ends of the earth with a speed which outruns the sun in his daily journey, and by the telephone, while sitting in your chamber in Meadville, you converse as face to face with your friends in Pittsburg. When you became 21 years of age, no railroad, steamboat, steam engine, locomotive or railroad car was in existence. The scientist, philosopher or prophet, who had then dared to dream of crossing the American continent or the Atlantic ocean in seven days, or of conversing by telegraph with his friends in London or Paris, would have been regarded by the wise men of that day as an idle dreamer or a lunatic. Since that day we have pierced the bowels on the earth and the rocks have oured us out rivers of oil." Far away in the distant past, I can remember the day when the ground was first broken in Meadville for the construction of the French creek for the construction of the French creek feeder to the Erie canal, and then after long weary years of waiting, I remember of running with all my speed to the canal bridge over Arch street, to see your canal boat, the first boat that ever came through from Pittsburg to Meadville! How bright the world was then! What a grand site that old dingy canal boat was to the denizens of Meadville! What golden visions of commercial prosperity, delighted their hopeful imaginations! How sweet to my boyish ears was the music of the "mellow horn" of that old boat, as it proudly plowed its way, at the rate of five miles an hour, throught the water, and settled safely in its dock, where like some old tired horse, it was securely tied to a dilapidated fence post! Few of the beloved forms then instinct with life and joy now remain to greet you, as you near the end of life's journey,--for "The mossy marbles rest, On the lips that you have pressed In their bloom, And the names you loved to hear, Have been carved for many a year On the tomb." During Mr. Dickson's long life, he was never confined to bed an entire week by sickness or accident. He attended church regularly until May, 1886. Being feeble the past two years, he seldom went from home, but was able to walk about the house, and enjoy company. He came to the table with the family, and asked a blessing, unti four days before his death. In early manhood and middle age, he was a man of restless and untiring energy, inured to all the hardships of life in a new country; a man whose mind held him constantly above circumstances, and one whose strength of mind and body was constantly developed and augmented by his mental and physical labors. He was a postive man, and did not hold opinions for the sake of what he could make out of them; but on the stern simplicity of his nature was imprinted these twin elements indispensible in the formation of great character, heroism and truth. Transcribed from the Centennial Edition of the Daily Tribune-Republican of Saturday morning, May 12th, 1888 p. 91 thru 96 Tribune Publishing Company, Printers, Publishers, and Binders Meadville, Pennsylvania Sandy Roche Schroeder (SamiWV) slschroe@intrepid.net Volunteer for Random Acts of Genealogical Kindness http://www.rootsweb.com/~tnraogk/index.htm