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Dr. D. M. Graham Reminiscences
Port Royal Times
Thursday, November 28, 1889
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES
by Dr. G. M. Graham
Mr. Editor: I had thought you were all tired of my reminiscences and I
concluded to stop, but I have been solicited by so many of your readers to write
more that I will jot down another article. I recall these true lines of a poet who
says: "Honor and fame from no condition rise, Act well your part, there the honor
lies."
Living as we do at the present day bears but a slight resemblance to the way
we lived 50 years ago. We had no county papers, so far as I know, and very few
buggies. We had at our house as far back as I can recall a weekly religious
paper, "The Presbyterian," and we read and re-read it. The children then had but
few of the luxuries that today are so common. Our diet was nourishing, plain and
healthy. The supper was from fall to spring, almost invariable, mush and
milk. On a certain occaision my brother Ed, was sent ot the mill with a bag of
corn on a horse. The miller was old Mr. Liggett, and my brother was a great
favorite of his. After taking the bag of corn into the mill (at Pleasant View) he
said, "Now Eddie when does your mother want this meal?" My brother replied in
great earnestness, "Why, mother said, just as soon as she could get it, because
until she got it she would have to get victuals for supper." The plain food us
youngsters had to eat contributed largely to giving us all fine constitutions.
Although there were few papers, there was to be found in Spruce Hill
township, at that day, among the Patterson's, Milliken's, Kelly's, Patton's,
Gilson's, Ard's, Gilliford's, Staynor's, M'Laughlin's, Heading's and Graham's, who,
for solid knowledge, sound and intelligent reasoning on that which is substantial
and useful, embracing Bible history, ancient and modern history, especially of our
own country, stood head and shoulders above the men of this day. Those old
fathers had but little schooling, (my father had in all three months,) but they had
brains and improved what little schooling they had.
At that time the grain was all cut with cradles and sickles--the lodged grain
was usually cut with the latter implement. When I was about ten years old my
father and I did that work, while the cradlers cut the standing grain. I was
ambitious to become a good reaper, and in my eagerness, in the field south of
the mountain road and near an old limekiln, I cut half through my little finger nail
with the sickle. It was not a bad cut, but I cried lustily. My father soothed me all
he could, and finally told me "that no one became a good reaper until he had cut
his little finger." That idea dried the tears, the finger got well and I could reap.
What true friendship and genuine sociability existed! I recall that very season my
finger was cut an incident that illustrates the good feeling existing among
neighbors. We were done cutting grain, and had the wagons all rigged for hauling
in. About supper time Mr. Noah Heading came riding up to our home. He owned
the farm on which Menno Esh now lives. He was a good, true, noble man, and
ardent Methodist. He said to my father, "Johnny, how are you on with your
harvest?" My father told him the wagons were rigged for hauling in to-morrow,
and then said to him, "how are you on?" "Johnny, I haven't cut a
handful and have come to see if you could not give me a lift." My father replied,
"Noah, to-morrow morning we'll go with all force." The hands were that evening
gathered up. Old Mr. Geo Gilliford, Squire Patterson and others turned in in this
neighborly style and that day nine cradles cut the crop of Mr. Heading. That spirit
recalls a story I have read, and it is this: Judge Jeremiah S. Black was at a
certain time in New York. He was born and raised in Somerset county, Pa., and
had a close school friend, who, afterward, went to Iowa and became Judge
Williams. While Judge Black was at his hotel Judge Williams went to New York
and happened to stop at the same hotel. On looking over the register he saw the
name of Judge Black, whom he had not seen for many years. He sent his card to
Judge Black's room and with it these lines: "Oh, Jerry! Dear Jerry, I've
found you at last, And, memory, burdened with scenes of the past, When you
were but Jerry and I was but Joe."
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