Information from Second Souvenirs, by Francis C. Waid, 1890, pp. 188-230 Extracts from his diary 1887 August 17, 1887--My wife and I were favored with an invitation to attend the fiftieth anniversary of the wedding of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Falkenburg, of Woodcock Township. They live but two miles from our home, and Mr. Falkenburg has resided on the same farm from my earliest recollection. This contented and honored couple have passed their three-score-and-ten, Mr. Falkenburg being aged seventy-five and his wife seventy-one. Fifty years of married life are attained by only a few of the human family, and it is fitting that such an event should be duly celebrated by a "golden wedding." What added to our pleasure, and I may say surprise, was meeting among the eighty or so guests, two of my old schoolmates, William Densmore, of Erie, Penn., and John Y. Gilmore, editor of the Sugar Bowl and Farm Journal, New Orleans, La., the latter being accompanied by his youngest son and daughter, all three having arrived here yesterday evening, on a visit to Mr. Gilmore. We were, in fact, as much pleased and surprised as when we met J. Y. Gilmore and daughter at the residence of his brother, William, in Minnesota, in September, 1881. Where friends and kinsmen meet Enjoyment seems complete. This date reminds me of what occurred one year ago to-day. I received 300 copies of my SOUVENIR from my publishers, Messrs. Warner, Beers & Co., Chicago, for free distribution, nearly all of which have been disposed of, Mr. Falkenburg accepting of one. His friendship to our family began with my parents before I was born. There is happiness in trying to please an aged friend; like the "golden wedding," age demands our best respects. August 23, 1887--My wife and I had the pleasure of visiting Mr. and Mrs. J. F. Breed, whose home is within less than two miles of ours; our acquaintance dating back to my early recollections. This worthy couple, who are nearing the close of the fifty-fourth year of their married life ( Mr. and Mrs. Breed were married September 12, 1833. Indeed I was surprised when Mrs. Breed said they were married in 1833 the year I was born in. "What!" I exclaimed, "You have been married nearly as long as I have lived!" They are still (December 28, 1889) living, and I hope they may see many more years of married life), came here from Massachusetts in 1838; and our visit was full of interest and pleasure in hearing them talk of the many incidents of days gone by. My parents and Mr. Breed were friends, often exchanging work on their farms. I understand Mr. Breed is now in his seventy-seventh year, and Mrs. Breed in her seventy-first. They have led a very industrious life, and bear their ages remarkably well. September 1 to 10, 1887--[My son Guinnip and I make a tour to New York, Long Branch and Essex (Conn.), an account of which will be found at page 63.] September 12, 1887--William B. Trevey; pastor of the Methodist Episcopal Church, Saegerstown Circuit, Meadville District, died at the Methodist Episcopal parsonage in Saegerstown, above date, at the age of about thirty-two years. His remains were taken to Moundsville, W. Va., for interment. It was my privilege and pleasure to form an acquaintance with Brother Trevey about four years ago, and this Christian friendship has increased in strength ever since until his departure to the "Better Land." Mr. Trevey was attending Allegheny College in the fall of 1883, when he came out to State Road with Brother Allen, who was at that time our pastor. Presiding Elder Brother Merchant also came along, as he was desirous of changing pastors at State Road in order to favor Brother Allen, who seemed to have more work at State Street than he could accomplish, especially as he had sickness in the family. I have always loved our Elder, for he labored to make things harmonize. He wished not only the consent of Brother Allen and Brother Trevey, but also of each society, and when Brother Trevey preached to us we could say how we liked him. After others had given their opinion, I remember I was called on for an expression as to how I would favor the change, both men being present, and my reply was to this effect: "This reminds me of the presidential election; I voted for James G. Blaine, but I intend to prove loyal to our Government if Cleveland becomes President." I know I love Brother Allen; his sermons have done me good, and I have listened also with pleasure and profit to Brother Trevey. The latter had filled the appointment at State Road nearly two years, and had about completed his second year at Saegerstown and Blooming Valley, where we heard him so frequently that he seems as still our pastor. Blooming Valley is only one mile east of us, and here Brother Trevey preached every second Sabbath afternoon, so we had the opportunity of attending, even if we had preaching at State Road on the same day in the forenoon. The last two visits Brother Trevey paid us were immediately prior to his illness, the one being on the occasion of my wife's sickness, and the other soon thereafter (in August), when he was accompanied by our pastor, Mr. Miller, which was his last appearance in our home. My wife and I, however, called to see him just two weeks to a day before he died, and then we had our last conversation on earth. At that time there seemed to be hopes of his recovery. I recollect saying to him: "You expect to get well." "Yes," he replied, "I think my time to go home has not come yet," and as we shook hands at parting he said, "Come again." Two weeks from that Monday his spirit fled. Brother Trevey was, I think, one of those even-tempered men, well calculated to win the good-will of all, and the Meadville Tribune, in its obituary notice, says of him: "He had an army of friends, whom he had won in four years." He was fond of flowers, and frequently alluded to them in his sermons. I never knew him fail to interest the Sunday-school scholars when addressing them, his love for children being a marked characteristic. Many of Mr. Trevey's friends have now in their possession his photograph, as also that of his wife, both being excellent likenesses. Brother Trevey, in giving his testimony for Christ, says: "I was converted in early childhood, so that my whole life has been given to Him." How few, even Christians, have a record like this! A whole life given to Christ! No wonder Brother William B. Trevey's influence will scent like the rose when its leaves are faded and the stalk is dead. He and his wife always had many warm friends here, who, like myself, appreciate their pictures (husband and wife being taken together), of which a large number have been circulated since Mr. Trevey's death. September 17, 1887--While busy with my youngest son, cutting and shocking corn, I was surprised and much pleased when Emmet Densmore, my old school-mate, drove into the field where we were cutting corn. Many years had slipped away since we had met, and there was joy in that voice when he called out: "France, take these pumpkins out of the way or I will have to drive over them!" Then the friendly look and shaking of hands which followed brought pleasure and satisfaction in full. "Where do you live, Emmet?" I inquired. "In New York City." "Had I known it last week when I was there," said I, "I would have gone to see you." As Mr. Densmore's visit to these parts was on business, and he had merely called to see us, our interview was but brief. I rode with him from the field to the house, and had an agreeable chat with him as long as he could stay. Before leaving I presented him with a copy of the SOUVENIR, for which he expressed many thanks, and since his return to New York we have received from him a copy of a magazine entitled Earnest Words, edited by Emmet Densmore and Helen Densmore. I have had many pleasant interviews and social talks with friend Emmet. In the early days of oildom on Oil Creek, when roads were bad, on the Tar Farm I was pleased to meet my old school-mate, with whom I tarried over night, and had a "Merry Christmas" (December 25, 1863). I had taken a load of produce from home to Oil Creek with an ox team (and by the way, I don't want to brag when I say that I had a good ox team, an excellent pair of cattle on the farm and remarkably good travelers on the road). I thought them too good, after a hard day's work, to endure the hardship of crossing Oil Creek three or four times, with ice floating, and the water quite high, in order to get to Mr. Densmore's. But we made it! And it was then I was glad to see Emmet. He befriended me; purchased my entire load (except a few articles sent to C. R. Slocum), the amount paid being $61.95. Produce was then high. Well, one trip satisfied me at the time, but since then my capacity for pleasure, I think, has been greater, and I will not go back on that event; yet I believe I was better pleased when I saw Emmet coming to see me in the cornfield, and heard his familiar voice when he called out about the" pumpkins." If there was no money transaction on that occasion, there was at any rate abundant proof of our friendship (I met Mr. Densmore again, February 2,1889). More to follow, David