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Recoflections 
 
 ,.,,0F A RUNAWAY BOY. 
 
 1827— J903. 
 
 BY JAMES OWENS. 
 
 PITTSBURG, PA„ 1903. 
 
THE LIBRARY OF j 
 CONGRESS. 
 
 Two Copies Received 
 
 AUG ! 1903 
 
 Copyright Entry 
 CLASS ^ XXcN«. 
 
 vS" 1 8" ^ 
 
 COPY B. 
 
 
 COPYRIGHT J 903 By JAMES OWENS. 
 
 Printed by 
 
 Keystone Label Company. Limited 
 
 Pittsburg, Pa. 
 
 
A FAVORITE POSITION OF THE AUTHOR. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 This is the life story of a man who, in the seventy- 
 six years he has traveled about the world, has proven 
 the old saying that truth is stranger than fiction. Un- 
 like the novelist, who draws upon a vivid imagination 
 for his tales of adventure, the hero of this story has but 
 to draw upon his memory of events he has seen — in 
 most of which he has been an actor. The events 
 herein recorded are mostly incidents jotted down in 
 leisure moments the past few years for the amusement 
 of children and grandchildren, and they may also find 
 much to instruct them in the ways of the world fifty, 
 and even seventy years ago. 
 
 Ireland was my birthplace, and the date was April 
 lo, 1827. That was in County Derry, near Curran. 
 My father's people were of Welsh stock, and my 
 mother Scotch, though both were born in Ireland. 
 Shortly after my arrival in the family my parents 
 moved to Entrem, where father took charge of John 
 McChesney's Blichgreen. I was my father's name- 
 sake and he was very fond of me. The first incident 
 I can remember was one day I was sitting on his knee. 
 He was smoking, and ashes fell from his pipe and 
 burned my little body. He was sorely grieved, and 
 threw away his pipe, declaring he would never smoke 
 again. And he never did. 
 
6 Introduction. 
 
 That was an incident that showed the strength of 
 his character. When he took a line of action he kept 
 to it to the end, and I believe that that strength of char- 
 acter was my chief inheritance, and in fact it was my 
 only inheritance, except life and health, for almost from 
 the first I made my own way in the world. 
 
 A little incident, wrong though it was, or would be 
 for one who had reached years of discretion, occurred 
 when I was about four years old, and it shows that, like 
 my father, I went through with whatever I undertook. 
 I took a fancy to a pigeon belonging to a neighbor 
 named Brown, and I caught it and took it home. 
 Mother did not know whose it was, and allowed me to 
 keep it, thinking it was only a stray bird. But one day 
 a little later, Mr. Brown was passing and saw the bird. 
 He told my mother, who compelled me tO' carry the 
 pigeon back, liberally using a willow switch on my back 
 and legs until we met a neighbor woman, Mrs. McChes- 
 ney, whose pleading in my behalf saved me further pun- 
 ishment. 
 
 The following Sunday, while my father and mother 
 and the Browns were at church, I went to the Brown 
 home, got the pigeon again, brought it home, killed it 
 and hid it under a stone pile. It was missed of course, 
 and they blamed me for having taken it. Mother 
 often questioned me, but I never would admit that I 
 knew anything about its disappearance. 
 
 Whenever I saw Mr. Brown, I would imagine that 
 he was thinking about that pigeon, but I was too stub- 
 born to ever admit the crime and ask forgiveness. I 
 felt that the whipping I got for taking the bird was 
 
Introduction. 7 
 
 punishment enough for both offenses, and really the 
 whipping was the motive for the second crime, and I am 
 not a believer in the old adage, "Spare the rod and spoil 
 the child," for many a boy has bden spoiled by too lib- 
 eral application of the rod. 
 
 Seventy years ago there were curious remedies for 
 the small ills of childhood, and for the ills of our elders 
 as well. Shortly after the incident of the pigeon — I 
 almost said the tragedy of the pigeon — I was taken 
 with whooping cough. It is not a very serious 
 malady, but it is annoying, especially so for people liv- 
 ing in the house when a whooping spell comes on the 
 patient in the night. I must have been very noisy, 
 for they took extreme measures to cure me. They 
 brought a donkey into the front yard and carried me 
 out of the house. Three times I was put around and 
 under the donkey, then I was made to eat bread that 
 had been first put into the mouth of the donkey. I 
 soon got well, and the donkey got credit for being a 
 great medicial agent, but I have never been thoroughly 
 convinced that he was any more of a doctor than some 
 of the donkeys who in this day put an M. D. at the end 
 of their names and promise to cure everything from 
 measles to consumption with some combination of 
 drugs that promises to do everything, instead of help- 
 ing nature to make you well and keep you strong by 
 obeying her laws. 
 
 It was not long after the aflfair of the donkey that 
 the family moved to Belfast, where father took charge 
 of Craig's weaving factory, on the Falls Road. We 
 were only there a short while when father died. 
 
8 Introduction. 
 
 I can remember little of the occurrences of the 
 next two years. Mother kept her little family together 
 and we were all happy and contented. Those two 
 years were spent so pleasantly, and with so little to 
 disturb the even tenor of our ways that there is little 
 to record. One cannot make a story of happy domestic 
 life, but must needs get out into the world, where there 
 is less of happiness and content, and more of turmoil 
 and strife. 
 
 This I soon learned, for mother married about two 
 years after my father's death. Her second husband 
 was a retired naval officer, Capt. Hughey Drain, and 
 his man-of-war ways did not suit me or my brothers 
 and sisters. Capt. Drain was a valiant officer, and had 
 been retired on pension, which he had undoubtedly 
 earned in the service of his country, but I was too 
 young then to look only at the glory his name brought 
 the family, and I did not consider that his bluff and 
 burly manner towards his step-children was excusable 
 on the ground that he had fought in *'the King's navee." 
 He was overbearing, and roug'h, and if there had been 
 any such thing as a marlin spike around the house, I 
 guess he would have used it on some of us, but that and 
 the "cat o' nine tails" being out of his reach, he made 
 things as unpleasant as possible with his tongue, and 
 soon drove my sister and older brothers away from 
 home. 
 
 One day the captain asked if I had not taken a 
 half crown from his pocket. With indignation, I told 
 him I had not. He said nothing more then, but when 
 I went to bed he searched my clothes. He found noth- 
 
The Runaway Boy. 9 
 
 ing in my pockets but cherry stones, but that did not 
 save me from a beating, and that was the beginning of 
 the end of my life at home. 
 
 All that day I nursed my wrath. In the evening I 
 went to a blacksmith shop and secured a staple. This 
 I drove into the side of the wall at the head of the 
 stairs, and about six inches from the floor. Then I 
 secured a rope and tied it from the staple to the balust- 
 rade. I expected my step-father to trip over it when 
 he went down stairs to lock the door for the night, and 
 break his neck, which I considered but light punish- 
 ment for the trashing he gave me, but my mother had 
 gone to the store, and on her return she tripped and fell 
 upstairs, instead of the captain falling down. 
 
 I was not blamed with this attempt to murder the 
 man whom I thought had committed the greatest pos- 
 sible wrong against me, but a neighbor boy was sus- 
 pected of having placed the rope there. 
 
 That was the last night I ever spent under the roof 
 oif my home in Ireland. I feared the Captain would 
 find out who it was tried to trip him and I would be 
 punished, so I got out of bed and left the house. 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Runaway Boy. 
 
 In the darkness, of the night I crept out of the 
 house. I did not know what time it was^ but with the 
 fear of coming punishment in me, I fled as fast as my 
 
10 The Runaway Boy. 
 
 little legs could carry me. Mother had said that past 
 the graveyard where my father was laid to rest was 
 the road to grandfather's home. I felt that if I could 
 only go there I would find a haven of rest. I sped on 
 down the road, and as I reached the Shinkle graveyard 
 I was tired out. I tried to get through the gate to 
 sleep on my father's grave. But the gate was locked. 
 I rattled at the gate, then tried to get through the 
 hedge, but at last I lay down on the grass beside the 
 fence and went to sleep. No thought of the gruesome 
 surroundings entered my mind. I was too tired for 
 even the small fears of childhood, burdened by a heav- 
 ier fear of the punishment that would be my portion if 
 I returned home. 
 
 The gray of dawn was just creeping over the trees 
 when I awoke. I looked around, puzzled for a moment 
 at my surroundings, then the whole injustice of my 
 position came upon me once more, and I started up 
 and ran as though I had seen the Captain coming after 
 me. I sped on, over Davis mountain and down into 
 the little green valley. For hours I walked and when I 
 carne to the toll gate at Ben Water I could not pass, as 
 I had no money and feared the questions of the toll 
 keeper. I stood in the road, ready to weep from fa- 
 tigue and hunger and fear. Suddenly the toll keeper 
 came out. 
 
 "Where are you going, laddie?" he asked. 
 
 "I don't know," I told him. 
 
 He soon had the whole story out of me. Taking 
 me into his house he ordered something for me to eat. 
 Fearing that he would take me back home, as soon 
 
The Runaway Boy. 11 
 
 as he disappeared to return to the toll house I ran out 
 the door and down the road. Fear was stronger than 
 hunger. All that afternoon and far into the night I 
 sped on. At last, weary and hungry, I again lay down 
 on the soft, cool grass and slept. 
 
 I was awakened by the sun shining in my eyes. I 
 did not know how long I had slept. My legs were 
 stiif from the long journey, and I could scarce bear the 
 terrible pangs of hunger that were knawing at my 
 stomach. Still I walked on, though more slowly than 
 on the day before, more often stopping for a rest at 
 the roadside. But at last my spirit broke. I crept up 
 beside a thorne hedge and cried for my mother. 
 
 As I was sitting there, with the tears running 
 down my cheeks, a man came riding by on a pony. 
 
 "So small, and in trouble already?" he said riding 
 up close to the hedge and looking at me with a smile 
 in which even I, young as I was, could see sympathy 
 and friendliness. 
 
 In answer tO' his questions, I told my little tragedy, 
 holding back nothing. I was too thoroughly worn out 
 to try to deceive him, willing even to accept return 
 home to the bullying of Captain Drain, rather than, to 
 pass further torture in an attempt to escape him. But 
 I had found a friend. 
 
 "It hardly seems possible for a lad so small to 
 walk so far," he said. "But you need walk no further. 
 Come home with me, and we will see what we can do 
 for you." 
 
 Then he lifted me up on the back of the pony, and 
 in a little while he sat me down at his door, as meek 
 
12 The Runaway Boy. 
 
 a little run away as ever was caught up. While I was 
 satisfying a ravenous hunger, he told me his name was 
 Samuel Stormy. He was the owner of a marble quar- 
 ry and a plaster-of-paris works. After my dinner he 
 laid me out a good suit of clothes, and soon after 1 
 was escorted to the attic, to sleep in the bed with the 
 serving man. 
 
 Tired as I was, I was soon asleep, and not until 
 morning did I awake. Even the fierce storm which 
 broke upon the place during the night failed to 
 awaken me, and I knew nothing of it till I opened my 
 eyes to discover the sun shining above me, the roof 
 gone, all the bedclothes gone, and the room stripped 
 of everything but the bed with me lying upon it I 
 looked out, and could see Mr. Stormy and a cr j vd of 
 people in the meadow searching for something. 
 
 I went down and stood in the doorway for a 
 moment, then started towards them, and I made up 
 my mind they must be crazy. Some of them started 
 to run away, while Mr. Stormy came running toward 
 me. 
 
 *'We thought you were killed," he said, "and were 
 looking for your dead body in the meadow, where the 
 roof of the house was dropped by the wind." 
 
 And naked as I was, he picked me up and carried 
 me out among the superstitious ones to prove that I 
 was flesh and blood and no ghost. 
 
 That was the beginning of a happy life of two 
 years at the home of Mr. Stormy. Little work did I 
 do, scarcely enough to pay my friend for the clothes 
 he bought me and the food I ate. Everything that a 
 
The Rtinaway Boy. 13 
 
 son could expect was done for me, and the thought of 
 my brothers and sisters and mother began to seem 
 like a dream of the distant past. Mr. Stormy had ac- 
 cepted my story of the terrible Captain who beat me, 
 and did not even attempt to send me back. His heart 
 was too kind to allow me to return to a home of cruel- 
 ty, and he preferred to have me remain with him. 
 
 Scarcely a cross word he gave me in two years. 
 At the end of that time I had grown to be quite a 
 large lad of nearly eight years. I thought I was then 
 large enough to ride the horses and occasionally when 
 Mr. Stormy was not around the stableman would put 
 me on a quiet horse and give free rein to gallop up and 
 down the road or across the fields. 
 
 One day Mr. Stormy came into the barn as I was 
 trying to get on one of the colts tied in the stall. He 
 caught me by the scruff of the coat and dragged me 
 out into the shed, where he began to whip me with a 
 bunch of straw. I began to laugh and he became 
 angry. He got a willow switch and gave me a genuine 
 thrashing, though not severe, and when I began to 
 cry he threw the switch away, talked to me awhile 
 about the danger I was running in trying to ride the 
 colts, and left me in the shed. 
 
 I did not realize then how kind he was. He had 
 not really hurt me, but had wounded my spirit. All 
 that day I brooded over what I considered his injus- 
 tice. In a moment I forgot all he had done for me in 
 the two years from the time he had picked me up by 
 the roadside, and although I had come to look upon 
 him as a second father, always kind and considerate, 
 
14 I Find a New Home. 
 
 all was blotted out in one real blow from his hand. 
 
 That night, after all had gone to bed, I put on 
 my best clothes, slipped out of the house and down the 
 road, my only thought to get away and to get still 
 further from the place where I still felt the terrible 
 Captain was waiting for me with a strap in his hand, 
 a grim and forbidding picture of vengeance. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 I Find a New Home. 
 
 My seond runaway was under less trying cir- 
 cumstances. My friends at the Stormys had given me 
 an occasional shilling or sixpence, and I was fairly 
 wealthy, and also as well clothed, when I got up in 
 the night and stole away. After walking all through 
 the balance of the night, and just as the light of day 
 began to appear in the east, I began to realize what I 
 had left behind. But my pride would not allow me to 
 go back and ask to be taken in again. So I kept 
 walking on, until I came to a house where there were 
 people stirring about. I went in and asked if I could 
 get breakfast. I ate with the family, and proffered the 
 good woman a shilling, but she declared I was too 
 small to be paying for my meals. I insisted that I was 
 no beggar, and we finally compromised on a sixpence, 
 and I started on my way. 
 
 I j<^.ers^€d long pleasantly enough all that day, oc- 
 casionally being given a lift by a man with a cart, 
 
I Find a New Home. 15 
 
 and when night came I asked for lodging at the first 
 cottage that took my fancy. I was given a warm wel- 
 come, a good supper, bed and breakfast, and this 
 time I could not force my money on my host, but was 
 sent on my way with as cheery a God-speed as could 
 be accorded the most honored of guests. 
 
 Now I thought I was far enough away to begin 
 hunting a place to work. Everywhere I went, I asked 
 for work, but there was little for a lad of eight to do, 
 and time after time I was turned away. Late in the 
 afternoon, I told my story to a man who had given me 
 a lift in his cart. 
 
 "Jimrnie McClatchy's is just the place for you," 
 he said. "He's an old bachelor, and there's not a lad 
 on the place. Go to him and tell him I sent you." 
 
 I was given minute directions, and was set down 
 on the road as near the McClatchy place as possible. 
 Then bidding my new friend good-bye, I trudged on to 
 the McClatchy farm, where I found just such a wel- 
 come as he had promised. Tlie McClatchy family 
 consisted of two men, James and his younger brother. 
 Tommy, both old bachelors, and their mother. I had 
 landed on my feet again, found as good a home as the 
 one I had just deserted. 
 
 While I had plenty of work at McClatchy's to earn 
 my board and clothes and a little beside, I also had 
 plenty of leisure time, and I soon became acquainted 
 with all the boys in the neighborhood. We were all 
 Irish lads to the core, full of the old nick, and to this 
 day I have to laugh when I think of some of the 
 
16 I Find a New Home. 
 
 pranks we used to play, though some of them were 
 more boyish than humorous. 
 
 Paddy McMullen was for a time the butt of our 
 fun. He had a fat pig- which I had trained as a sad- 
 dler, and I was wont to ride him every time I got an op- 
 portunity — when Paddy was not looking. But one 
 day when I was having my ride, the pig showed he 
 had a mind of his own by running into Paddy's 
 house, with me on him. Paddy was sitting by the fire, 
 and the sight of his favorite pig being used as a 
 saddle horse was too much for him. 
 
 "Git out o' this, ye dirty thafe," he shouted, as 
 he reached for the poker. 
 
 I did my 'best to escape, but dodged in the wrong 
 direction, and got the poker squarely on my head. 
 Luckily it did me little harm, but it taught me that it 
 would be best not to fool with Paddy, especially not 
 take liberties with his pig. Thereafter when I wanted 
 to take a ride, I was very careful to see that Paddy's 
 door was closed so that I could not be rushed into 
 trouble again. 
 
 Next door to McClatchy's lived Adam Duncan, a 
 wealthy man who bought port and flax in the country 
 round and sent it to Belfast. He handled large sums 
 of money, and all of his returns from Belfast had to 
 be carried by a man, as there were no banks to handle 
 such financial matters as there are now. Hughie Hen- 
 derson was his messenger, and always when he re- 
 turned in his cart from Belfast he had large sums with 
 him. One day, as Hughie was driving out of Antrim, 
 an old crippled man asked to be given a lift. 
 
I Find a New Home. 17 
 
 "The boss doesn't allow me to take anybody in the 
 cart," said Hughie. 
 
 "Sure, an' ye wouldn't refuse an ole cripple?" the 
 poor fellow pleaded. 
 
 Finally Hughie agreed to give him a ride if he 
 would get into the back of the cart and cover himself 
 tip with the bags so no one would see him. So the 
 cripple clambered in and did as Hughie told him. 
 
 About five miles out, five policemen came out of 
 Lord O' Neil's demesne, and one of them pointing a 
 pistol at Hughie, they demanded his money. 
 
 "You can't have it," said Hughie. 
 
 The cripple peeking from under the bags saw one 
 of them knock out Hughie's brains with a club, and 
 another take the bills from his inside pocket. Then 
 all five disappeared again within the shrubbery on 
 the O'Neil estate. 
 
 Just as the cripple had crawled from under the 
 bags, Duncan came along, and seeing Hughie lying 
 dead in the road, he accused the cripple of the murder. 
 
 " 'Tis a sorry day," wailed the cripple, "I never 
 touched him, but if ye drive back to town I can show 
 you the men as did it." 
 
 Back to town they hurried as fast as the horses 
 could go, leaving poor Hughie's bleeding corpse lying 
 in the grass by the road. They drove directly to the 
 office of the Mayor, and the cripple told his story. The 
 Mayor rang his bell and ordered that all the policemen 
 be called in. A number of men appeared, but the mur- 
 derers were not among them. 
 
 "Are these all ye have?" asked the cripple. 
 
18 I Find a. New Home. 
 
 ''No," said the Mayor, ''there are a few more," 
 and he ordered that the others be brought in. 
 
 The cripple stood beside the Mayor, and as the 
 culprits came through the door he pointed them out, 
 one at a time. 
 
 "There is the one that knocked out Hughie's 
 brains," he said, "and there is the one that held the 
 horses, and there is the one that took the money and 
 put it in his coat pocket. The other two were with 
 them." 
 
 The Mayor immediately started an investigation. 
 The money was found in their pockets, and all that 
 the cripple said was found to be true. The trial was 
 brief, and the men were promptly sentenced to be 
 hanged. Justice traveled with rapid strides in those 
 days, and the next day the murderers were hanged 
 to five trees in Lord O'Neil's wood, where they had 
 hidden till Hughie drove up. 
 
 The bodies were left hanging in the wood for ten 
 days as a warning to evil-doers. With a party from 
 the neighborhood I went to see the bodies hanging 
 among the trees. It took us a whole day to go there 
 and back. The sight was terrible, and for weeks I 
 could hardly think of anything else, and the sight of 
 the four bodies dangling in the breeze would come be- 
 fore me at all sorts of times, and make me shiver with 
 dread. 
 
Jimmie MeMullin's Ghost. 19 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Jimmie McMullin's Ghost. 
 
 Jimmie McMuUin and his wife, Nancy, were the 
 butt of many of the pranks of the lads of the neighbor- 
 hood. Jimmie was a little inclined to drink and when 
 drinking would fight with his wife. One night, when 
 Jimmie was ripe ior sport, we boys hollowed out a 
 turnip and filled it with flax. Then w€ lighted it 
 and by holding it to the keyhole and blowing through 
 it we soon had the house full of smoke. As soon as 
 the smoke got thick, Jimmie and his wife began to 
 fight. I was behind the jamb wall, and I carried 
 Paddy McMullin's old rooster from which we had 
 plucked all the feathers and which we had singed with 
 straw. When the smoke got so thick they could not 
 see me I put the rooster into the house, the boys 
 stopped blowing in smoke, and we waited for develop- 
 ments. 
 
 Pretty soon the smoke began to rise to the ceil- 
 ing, and Jimmie saw the rooster strutting across the 
 floor. 
 
 "It's the divil," he yelled, and ran for the door. 
 
 I was in his way, and he fell over me. 
 
 "There's another one of 'em," he shouted, and he 
 jumped up and down the road as if pursued by a hun- 
 dred devils. 
 
 Nancy, left by herself, was scared almost to death. 
 She fell on her knees and screamed at the top of her 
 voice : 
 
20 Jimmie MioMuUin's Ghost. 
 
 "Oh, Good Lord, don't take me. It's not me that 
 wants to be taken." 
 
 A little way down the street Jimmie came upon a 
 crowd of men, and thus reinforced, he started back to 
 put the devils to route. We boys had started home, 
 and when we saw the crowd coming we hid in the road 
 to let them pass. They were telling what they would 
 do to the ghosts that were in Jimmie's house, and one 
 of the boys laughed. Jimmie let out a yell you could 
 have heard for a mile, and started back the way he 
 had come, and all the other ghost fighters followed him 
 as fast as their legs would carry them. 
 
 The next night we boys went to call on Jimmie, 
 and we were all sitting around listening to Jimmie's 
 story of the ghosts, when Paddy, his brother, came in. 
 
 "Jimmie, there's something going to happen 
 around here," he said. "Last night when the ghosts 
 were up to your place, one of them visited mine. He 
 took all the feathers oflf my old rooster as clean as a 
 whistle, and didn't leave a feather in the hen house." 
 
 That upset the whole crowd of us, and we burst 
 out laughing. Paddy thought we were laughing at 
 him, and he ran us out of the house and down the 
 street. 
 
 I got my scare the following night. I was walk- 
 ing down the lane, when I heard an awful rattle and 
 clatter, and decided the devil was around this time for 
 certain. With a scream of terror I started to run for 
 the nearest house. It was Paddy McMullin's place. 
 I never stopped to open the door, but burst it in and 
 fell on the floor, white and faint with terror. I was 
 
Jimmie M<;Mullin's Ghost. 21 
 
 just recovering enough to tell Jimmie, who happened 
 to be there, what I had heard and what I thought I had 
 seen, when Paddy came in dragging a huge log chain 
 behind him. And that was my ghost. It was Jim- 
 mie's turn now to have fun with me. 
 
 There was a Spa woman in the neighborhood, 
 and a night or two after the log chain event, Andy 
 Ewing and I went to see her. She told Andy's for- 
 tune, and his was so good I wanted mine told, also. I 
 had no money, so I pawned my cap to get it. When 
 I had "crossed her palm with silver," she told me I 
 would get a wife worth her weight in gold. And 
 that was once she told the truth, but it was many 
 years later, and many thousands of miles away from 
 Ireland that I found her. 
 
 The lads in the McClatchy neighborhood seemed 
 to run to the ghost idea for a time, and all our fun was 
 making the superstitious people think they had seen 
 the devil or some of his satelites. One night when 
 William Johnson came home he saw a pumpkin head, 
 which his son and I had made, setting on his fence 
 post. When he saw the flaming eyes and blood red 
 teeth and the terrible face staring at him he jumped 
 on his horse and rode into town. He never came home 
 till the next morning. 
 
 The next night, Johnson was sitting in front of 
 the fire place with a number of others at McClatchy's. 
 His son and I climbed up on the roof and dropped 
 horse-chestnuts down the chimney. Soon they got hot 
 and exploded, throwing sparks in every direction. The 
 people paid no attention to the first explosion, but soon 
 
22 Jimmie M<cMullin's Ghost. 
 
 half a dozen came, one right after the other, and the 
 crowd fled from the room in consternation, sure there 
 were ghosts in the fireplace. 
 
 Hugh Dempsey was another queer old character 
 living near the McClatchy place. I would often go 
 to visit him and listen to his queer talk. One after- 
 noon when I was there a little pig was running 
 through the house. As it went under the clock one 
 of the weights fell on it and made it squeal. I told 
 Hugh he ought to knock the devil out of the clock, and 
 he did. He picked up the weight and threw it at the 
 clock with all his force. When the weight hit the 
 clock it began to strike. 
 
 "You will strike back/' shouted Hugh, and he 
 kept on stoning the clock till it quit striking because 
 it was completely ruined. 
 
 Old Dave McClatchy, an uncle of the McClatchys 
 with whom I lived, resided on the farm. He died 
 shortly after I came to live there, and of course they 
 had a wake. Old Davy was so crooked physically 
 that when they laid him out they had to put weights 
 on his chest and knees to make him lie straight. All 
 the people in the neighborhood came to the wake and 
 the folks at home got supper for them. 
 
 While they were eating supper, Ellen McClatchy 
 sent me up to the room, where old Davy lay to snuflf 
 the candles. When I opened the door I was surprised 
 to see Davy sitting up in bed. 
 
 "What have they been doing with Davy?" I 
 shouted down the stairs to Ellen. "He's sitting up 
 in bed." 
 
Jimmie MoMullin's Grhost. 23 
 
 She came running up, and sure enough she found 
 him sitting there as though he had become tired of 
 lying down so long. 
 
 She called some of the others, and wlien they saw 
 him they ran out of the house and would not come 
 back, declaring the old man's corpse was bewitched, 
 but Tom McClatchy found that the weight had slipped 
 off Davy's chest and the weight on his knees made his 
 head rise. Tom fixed the weight again and old Davy 
 lay down, never to rise again. 
 
 "I don't see what you are all scared about," I told 
 them. "I should think you would be glad Davy is 
 alive again." 
 
 A couple of nights later I was sleeping with Tom, 
 as he promised to take me to the fair next day and 
 wanted to be sure to get up in time to get an early 
 start. Shortly after daylight Tom waked me up and 
 told me to go down stairs and see what time it was. I 
 got bewildered and got into Old Davy's room. In the 
 dim light I thought I saw his ghost, and I began to 
 scream. That awoke the whole house and the folks 
 came running in with lighted candles. There in the 
 corner stood a spinning wheel with the white flax on 
 it, and that was what I thought was Davy's ghost. 
 
 Although it was a little early to get up, it was 
 still too late to go to bed and try to sleep.. So we soon 
 had breakfast and Tom and I got an early start for 
 the fair. Tom saw some fine looking butter, and de- 
 cided to buy a roll of it. Then he sent me to h?s 
 cousin's store with it. His cousin cut it in two, and 
 
24 Jimmie MoMuUin's Ghost. 
 
 found that only the outside was butter, while the in- 
 side was potatoes. 
 
 When Tom was told how he had been sold, he in- 
 vestigated, and found that the butter was made by 
 Ann Pitt, who had a reputation in the country for 
 making dirty butter, although it was always of excel- 
 lent quality. 
 
 One day she declared she would make some clean 
 butter. So she took a bath and put on clean clothes 
 and prepared to retrieve her reputation. She had the 
 butter all churned and was working it out. She got 
 upon a chair to reach the salt above the stove, when 
 the chair slipped and she fell back into the butter bowl. 
 
 "I'll never try to make clean butter again," she 
 declared, and I guess she never did. 
 
 After that as she walked along the streets the 
 urchins would shout after her, "I'll never try to make 
 clean butter again," and then she would chase them 
 down the street. 
 
 Shortly after this episode, Ann went to the sea- 
 shore at Port Stewart, and there she found a man she 
 liked better than she did her husband, and ran away 
 with him to Scotland. Finally she came back home, 
 but her husband refused to take her in. So she was 
 sold in the market at Marfet, and her father bought her 
 for half a crown. That was the way they divorced 
 people in those days. 
 
My One Day In School. 25 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 My One Day in School. 
 
 When the fall days came and there was little work 
 for me to do on the farm, Mrs. McClatchy decided I 
 ought to go to school. I was then about 8 years old, 
 and though I had learned to read a little I had never 
 been in school. It won't take a very long chapter to 
 tell all about my school days, because there were no 
 school days, only one day, and hardly that. 
 
 Mrs. McClatchy gave me a piece of turf, for we 
 had to carry fuel with us if we wanted to share in the 
 warmth of the fire. With my turf under my arm, I 
 started off. The master sat me on one of the rear 
 benches and when he called the first class out to re- 
 cite, I picked up a slate and began to draw pictures. 
 The master told me tO' stop, and I laid the slate down. 
 When he wasn't looking, I picked it up again and he 
 soon heard the scratching. He picked up his heavy 
 rule and threw it at me, striking me on the ear, break- 
 ing my ear drum. 
 
 Though the blood was running from my mouth 
 and ear, I jumped from my seat and taking the rule I 
 threw it at him with all my strength. It struck him 
 squarely on the forehead, knocking him down. I 
 jumped on him and kicked him, and before he was 
 able to get up, I ran from, the room. 
 
 That was the end of my school days. Instead oi 
 gaining an education I lost the hearing of one ear. 
 When I went home, Mrs. McClatchy said she would 
 
26 My Oae Day In ^hool. 
 
 not allow me to return to school, but would teach me 
 .at home. And she did. Every day, as long as I stayed 
 there she continued to give me instruction, and from 
 iier I got the ground work. The balance of my edu- 
 cation I have worked out myself at nights, getting 
 books and reading, studying all my spare time. I shall 
 never forget the kindness of Airs. McClatchy, and I 
 wept bitterly one morning when I awoke and was told 
 that she was dead. (I believe Mrs. McClatchy was the 
 grandmother of James J. Corbett, the pugilist). 
 
 Although my education was ''finished" that one 
 day, I watched for a chance to get revenge on the 
 schoolmaster. I did not succeed in revenging myself 
 on him, but some time after this I met his son, about 
 my own age, coming to Johnson's pasture to milk the 
 cow. I watched for him to return, and when he came 
 to McClatchy's lane I ran out and kicked his bucket of 
 milk over, spilling it all. He tried to thrash me, but 
 after a tustle I got the better of him, and gave him a 
 beating which resulted in the loss of one of his eyes. 
 
 This fight cost me the loss of another home, for 
 I feared arrest, and being an orphan, I felt that I 
 could not escape jail, though the boy's father had 
 burst my ear drum, and the damage was about equal. 
 
 So again I became a wanderer, without a home, 
 and with no friends to look to. I had been about nine 
 months at the McClatchy farm, and I had begun to 
 think I would remain there all my life, or at least until 
 I had become a man, but it seems that I was doomed 
 to spend my boyhood days wandering around the 
 world. I saw there was no escape, so I packed up a 
 
My First Sweetheart. 27 
 
 little bundle, put on my best clothes, bade good-bye 
 to my third home, and started out in the night to look 
 for another place where I might earn my livelihood — 
 and perhaps be happy. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 My First Sweetheart. 
 
 Now came another tramp of two days in search of 
 a new home and work to earn a living. Finally Thomas 
 Bowman, a farmer, gave me a place and it was while 
 with him that I met my first sweetheart. I was then 
 about 9 years old, and near-by lived Margaret Harris, 
 a little younger. Margaret was a little flaxen-haired 
 Irish beauty, and I was soon her devoted admirer. 
 When the fair was on at Marfet, Margaret and I de- 
 cided we would like to go, and we slipped away with- 
 out anyone being the wiser. Mr. Bowman had given 
 me a shilling, and we bought candy with part of it. 
 We were both industriously eating off the same stick 
 when Margaret's brother saw us. He was going to 
 beat me, but I was too spry for him and kept out of 
 his way. He finally decided to take his spite out on 
 Margaret, but I gathered up a bunch of stones and 
 kept up such a fusilade that he had to run to keep 
 from being seriously hurt. 
 
 Margaret then decided we had better go home, 
 and we started. Her brother got home ahead of us 
 and there was trouble coming to me when we arrived. 
 
28 My First Sweetheart. 
 
 But I was wary of the old folks, and leaving Margaret 
 at the gate, I scurried away like a criminal. 
 
 After supper I decided that I ought to go and see 
 what they were doing to Margaret. I went to the 
 house and got behind the jamb wall, and found that I 
 was the subject under discussion. 
 
 "Indeed, if that brat comes back again for Mar- 
 garet I'll take the kettle and scald him from head to 
 heels," said Mrs. Harris. 
 
 From where I was standing I could see Margaret 
 in another room, so when their backs were turned I 
 slipped through the door, and we were having a very 
 pleasant chat when I saw the old folks coming into 
 the room to retire. It just took one jump and a bit of 
 a roll over to get under the bed, and there I had to 
 remain till they were asleep and snoring. Then I 
 crawled out and made my escape. 
 
 Margaret and I remained fast friends as long as 
 I lived with Mr. Bowman, but we always kept our eyes 
 open for fear of that kettle of scalding water. 
 
 One of the first duties I learned on the farm was 
 to milk the cows, and that was part of my work at 
 Bowman's. Shortly after I came there the cows be- 
 gan to give bitter milk, and as usual the people decided 
 they were bewitched. Among the chief and loudest 
 adherents of the witchery theory were an old shoe- 
 maker and his wife, who lived in a cottage on the 
 farm. For several weeks this condition of affairs kept 
 up. 
 
 One night when I was coming home late I saw a 
 light in the stable. I went to the house and awakened 
 
My First Sweetheart. 29 
 
 Tom and told him the witches were in the stable and 
 we could catch them. Tom was afraid to go out with 
 me, so I awakened his sister, Jane. She said she was 
 not afraid of man or devil. We went to the stable, and 
 as we opened the door we saw the witches, or their 
 chief supporters, the old shoemaker and his wife. 
 They had been stealing the milk all the time, and after 
 finishing the milking they would rub bitter aloes on 
 the teats, which would give what little milk remained 
 a bitter taste. 
 
 That ended the reign of the witches in Bowman's 
 stable, and it also ended the tenancy of the old shoe- 
 maker on the Bowman farm. 
 
 Tom decided he needed another cow, and went to 
 the Cross fair to purchase one. He was very near- 
 sighted, which made it very difficult for him to attend 
 to any sort of business, except to count money, which 
 he seemed to know by the feel of it. He came home 
 late that evening, and announced to me — I was in the 
 stable — that he had found a fine cow. I went out into 
 the yard and there stood a big red bull. 
 
 "That's a bull," I told Tom. 
 
 "It's a cow," he said. "Don't you think you can 
 give me such a story as that." 
 
 "I tell you it's a bull," I declared, and he got mad 
 and chased me into the house. 
 
 I called for Jane, and told her what was wrong, 
 and she followed Tom to the yard. When she told 
 Tom the same as I had, he was furious and drove the 
 bull out of the yard into the road. But there was no 
 use loosing the cow and the bull, also, so Jane and I 
 
30 My First Sweetheart. 
 
 convinced him that since we could not have a cow 
 we would keep the bull until we had a chance to 
 sell it. 
 
 One morning Huch McGuiggen, a crazy fellow, 
 who always had a pack of dogs following him wher- 
 ever he went, came to the farm. He had a dog he 
 called the 'Captain, and when I began to tease him he 
 set the Captain on me. I picked up a rock and knock- 
 ed the Captain down, and he lay there for a moment, 
 the breath out of him, as if he were dead. Hughy, 
 thinking I had killed the dbg, fell on his knees, and 
 prayed to the Lord to smite me dead. But his prayer 
 was not answered. 
 
 In the fall of that year the hunters came to the 
 country. One day they chased a fox through Mr. 
 Johnston's field, which was surrounded by a high 
 thorn hedge, and all the hunters went around to a 
 low place to take the leap. But there was a Mrs. 
 Gaston in the party who rode a fine horse, and she 
 thought she could make the leap. 
 
 The horse failed and fell back, throwing her oflf. 
 Two men working in a field across the way, one 
 named Henderson, the other Mcjimsey, went to her 
 rescue. They helped her to get straightened out, 
 tightened the saddle girth, and helped her to mount. 
 When she was ready to ride on, she turned to Hen- 
 derson and thanking the men for their kindness, asked 
 Henderson if he were married. He said he was, and 
 she handed him a five-pound note. Then turning to 
 Mcjimsey, she asked : 
 
 "And are vou married?" 
 
I Become a Circus Ferformier- 3? 
 
 "No," he replied. 
 
 "Then the sight was enough for you/' and she 
 rode away without giving him so much as a penny. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 I Become a Circus Performer. 
 
 Early the following Spring a circus was billed to 
 show at the Cross, and I wanted to go, but Tom told 
 me boys never went to circuses. I was not satisfied, 
 however, and that evening, when he and his sister an- 
 nounced that they were going to spend the evening 
 with some friends, I went out and hurried to the 
 circus grounds. There was no chance to carry water 
 for the elephant, and as I had no money, I tried to 
 sneak under the tent, but one of the circus men caught 
 me and drove me away. I then went to Jane Ditty, 
 who kept a store, and she loaned me the money, and 
 told me to gO' straight home as soon as the show was 
 over. I had hardly got seated in the tent when I saw 
 Tom and Jane sitting in the reserved section. 
 
 That was the first time I had ever seen a circus, 
 and though I have seen many since, of course, the 
 first is always the best. I was delighted with the lady 
 in the pink tights who so bravely rode around the ring 
 on the big fat white horse, from whose back it would 
 seem impossible tO' fall, and I thought it would be 
 easy to imitate her. But the fellows who swung 
 themselves between heaven and earth on the high 
 
32 I Become a Circus Performer. 
 
 trapeze won my admiration most. It looked like a 
 gay life to me, and I wished I could get a job with the 
 show and learn to win the applause of the great 
 crowds of people. 
 
 But I had no idea that there was a chance for a 
 poor boy as I was to climb so high on the ladder of 
 ambition, so as soon as the show was over I hurried 
 to the door, thinking I would find Tom and Jane and 
 get to ride home with them. But I missed them in 
 the crowd and had to take the long walk home. 
 
 When I reached the farm, I found the door of the 
 house locked. I tried the stable door and it was also 
 locked. So I went back to the Cross and slept with 
 Hugh Watt. 
 
 In the morning I went down to the circus grounds, 
 and walked around among the ponies. One of the men 
 told me what a fine lot of ponies they had, and I 
 agreed with him, 
 
 "How would you like to go with the show and 
 ride one of the ponies every day in the parade?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Most of anything- in the world." I told him. 
 
 Then one of the managers came along, and he 
 asked me whose boy I was, and when I told him I was 
 an orphan, he asked me all sorts of questions. 
 
 "Well, if your nobody's boy, we'll just take you 
 with us," he finally said, and from that moment I 
 became a member of the profession. 
 
 The circus loaded up that night after the show 
 was over, and we rode through the darkness to the 
 next town. It was a wagon show, long before railroad 
 
I Become a Circus Peirformer. 33 
 
 shows had been dreamed of, and from the standpoint 
 of "The Greatest Show on Earth," which one sees 
 now-a-days, it was not so much of a circus. But I 
 thought it was great then, and still think so, looking 
 back through the eyes of memory at the happenings 
 mellowed by the flight of time. 
 
 I was not only a performer, but was one of the 
 animal keepers. I had charge of "The Wild and 
 Ferocious, Untamed" Billy Goat, and also "The Edu- 
 cated Pig." 
 
 When the show was on I my first act was to 
 wrestle with the goat, then Billy would climb a lad- 
 der, ride a swinging horse, and do many other tricks. 
 
 Later I would ride furiously into the ring on the 
 trained pig. When we reached the mat, he would 
 stop suddenly and I would be thrown over his head. 
 I would then toss a lot of cards on the mat, and would 
 ask the pig: 
 
 "Who is the wisest man in the house?" 
 
 He would promptly root around among the cards, 
 pick one up and bring it to me. One of the clowns 
 would then read it, and the crowd would go wild with 
 delight when the name of the most notorious town 
 fool was heard. The pig would also find the name of 
 the laziest man and other persons of like distinction. 
 
 I enjoyed circus life. I was a boy, and what boy 
 would not for a time be dazzled by the glamor of tin- 
 sel and gaudy paint. We traveled all over, Ireland, 
 Scotland and Wales, and I thus got to see every sec- 
 tion of the kingdom. 
 
34 Ofe for the TTopics. 
 
 From Liverpool we were to have gone to France 
 on the ship "Dolphin," and we had the animals aboard 
 and were ready to sail when it was discovered that 
 the ship was leaking and we were compelled to dis- 
 embark. There was no other ship to carry us over 
 just then, and the manager decided tO' tie up in Liver- 
 pool. That threw me out of a job for a time, which did 
 not suit me, and I severed my connections with the 
 "profession" forever. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 Off For the Tropics. 
 
 Again I began looking for work, for it was not my 
 nature to be long idle. Here was I a lad of 13, alone 
 in a strange city, and my only chance for my three 
 meals and a bed was to find something to do, and that 
 very shortly, for the funds I had in my pocket would 
 not last long. I did not look for something great, all 
 I could do was to sweep floors, run errands after I 
 should learn the city, or something of that sort. Al- 
 most the first open door attracted me. It was near 
 the Princess dock that I saw a large building with the 
 sign "Miller Bros." above the door. I at once entered 
 the door and asked to see Mr. Miller. As I was well 
 dressed and did not look the poor orphan that I was, 
 I was ushered into the presence of the senior member 
 of the firm, a kindly old gentleman, who looked at me 
 over his glasses, and really seemed disappointed when 
 
Off for tbe Ttropics. 35 
 
 he told me he had no work of the sort I could do. 
 There were a number of boys around the place, and as 
 most of them seemed to have plenty of time on their 
 hands I realized there was not much chance for em- 
 ployment of another to help them to do nothing. 
 
 I was leaving the mill, disappointed but not dis- 
 heartened, ready to visit the place next door on the 
 same errand, when I was met by Mr. Miller's son, who 
 for some reason was struck by my presence, and be- 
 gan a conversation. I was always willing to tell my 
 story in a straightforward way, and he soon had the 
 main points of my short but, to me, eventful, life. 
 
 "How would you like to go tO' the West Indies," 
 asked Mr. Miller. 
 
 The place I had never so much as heard of but 
 that did not deter me for a moment, and did not regret 
 it when I learned that it would mean a long trip at 
 sea, for what boy would not swell with pride at the 
 knowledge that he could take such a long trip alone. 
 
 Mr. ]\^iller promised me a trade, either to make 
 sugar or rum, and a t'-ade was what I wanted. So the 
 papers were at once d^awn up and s"gned, and I was 
 taken care of till the b^a*" should sail First of all, -''"r. 
 Miller took me to a *a'lor and had me measured for 
 linen clothes, so that I could s^a*^d ^he warm climate. 
 Then he told me as much as poss'ble about the new 
 life that was before me and told me something about 
 the work. I was to accent e'^he^ trade that was need- 
 ing a lad of my ap-e mos^ when T arri^red in the West 
 Indies, where the orea^ olantation lav. 
 
36 Off for the Tropics. 
 
 The following Sunday I sailed. The sun was shin- 
 ing, and the air was warm and pleasant, and every- 
 thing augured well for the beginning of a new and 
 unique epoch in my life. I was introduced to Capt. 
 Murray at the office, and he came for me when he was 
 ready to go aboard. In a little while the schooner 
 Murray was sailing smoothly out of the harbor, with 
 me standing at the rail, watching the land slip away. 
 
 Not a storm came to mar the beauty of the sea 
 through the entire voyage. For five weeks all nature 
 seemed to smile on my little enterprise. At first I 
 could not appreciate the beauty and the majesty of the 
 great expanse of water, for I became seasick, but I 
 soon got upon my sea legs, and then I would stay on 
 deck for hours, with my eyes on the horizon, where the' 
 blue of the sky and the sea seemed to meet and blend 
 together, as though they were one. 
 
 Capt. Murray was very kind to me. One night he 
 took me out on the quarter deck with him on his 
 watch, told me stories of the sea, and answered my 
 thousand and one boyish questions about the details 
 of working the ship. I was sorry it was so soon to be 
 over, and regretted that I had not signed for a sailor 
 instead of going to the unknown land, to the great 
 plantation with its hundreds of slaves. 
 
 At last, tired out, I lay down on the deck, and 
 was almost asleep, when there was a great commotion 
 in the water near us. I started up, and the Captain 
 laughed at my fear. 
 
 ''Jimmie, you thought you were dead," said Capt. 
 Murray, "but it was only the devil after you." 
 
Off for the Tropics. 37 
 
 I was ready to admit that it must have been the 
 devil, but the Captain told me it was a whale spouting. 
 I had never heard of a whale, and I kept looking over 
 the rail, hoping he would come back again, but he 
 didn't, and I soon lay down again and studied the stars 
 until I fell asleep. 
 
 Capt. Murray's wife and little daughter, Mary, 
 were on board, and here was where I fell in love again. 
 Little Mary and I soon became friends. She was the 
 pet of the ship, every sailor was ready to lay down his 
 life, if need be, for the Captain's daughter, and as we 
 were together most of the time I soon was shining in 
 the light of her popularity. 
 
 We saw many schools of porpoises and flying fish, 
 and when we were about five weeks out the sailors 
 caught a shark which was nineteen feet and four 
 inches long. Mary and I cleaned the teeth and jaws, 
 and the jaws were so wide we could walk between 
 them. I gave them all to Mary and she said she would 
 take them back to England and keep them forever. 
 
 At last we came in sight of land. The ship laid up 
 in Kingston harbor to unload part of her cargo, and 
 Mary and I were allowed to step on land for a little 
 while. We were walking alone around the town seeing 
 the sights when Mary saw a small kid she thought 
 she would like. Her only thought was law for me, and 
 I quickly captured the kid and we went back to the 
 ship. Unfortunately for my gallantry, the owner of 
 the kid missed it and easily traced it to the ship. Mary 
 wept when she was told that it had to be returned to 
 the owner, so the Captain paid the man a few shillings 
 
38 I Begin Plantation Life. 
 
 and was allowed to keep it. 
 
 The following morning we again set sail, and in 
 a few days tied up at Savanna la Mar, where I was to 
 disembark. My boxes were put on the dock, there was 
 a tearful parting with Mary and a hearty God-speed 
 from the Captain, and I was left alone and friendless 
 in an unknown land, but with my papers in my pocket, 
 I was sure of a welcome, a place to work and I hoped 
 for the same kind treatment that had always been ac- 
 corded to me in the years that I had been a wanderer, 
 my home wherever I could get my short legs under a 
 table, or lay my head on a comfortable pillow. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 I Begin Plantation Life. 
 
 As soon as I made it known that I was destined 
 for Miller Bros." plantation, I was warmly welcomed, 
 for the plantation was famous there, and I had no dif- 
 ficulty in getting a man to guide me to the place. I 
 was delighted with the tropical country, and every 
 new turn as we drove along opened up a new and 
 charming view before me. The novelty made the long 
 drive all too brief, and even though I was anxious to 
 find my new home, I was sorry the way was so short. 
 
 At last we drove up tO' a long, low building with 
 great porches around it, and I was told that my journey 
 was ended, for this was the plantation house. Around 
 it and but a short distance away were scores of huts. 
 
I Begin Plantation Life. 39 
 
 Thesew ere for the slaves, and they made up quite a 
 little city, for the plantation was forty miles square and 
 there were thirteen hundred slaves on the place. And 
 they were under control of but three white men. 
 
 I immediately became a "man" of importance, for 
 I was the fourth white man there and became one- 
 fourth of the white force. Mr. Latham was the man- 
 ager of the estate. He took my papers, gave me a 
 hearty hand shake and I was at once installed in my 
 new place in the world. 
 
 Every day, aye, every hour, brought me into new 
 and novel scenes. The blacks were a study for me, for 
 I had never seen so many of them. My entire ex- 
 perience with them had been to see an occasional one 
 in England while traveling with the circus, and I had 
 never thought there were so many of them in the 
 world. 
 
 Mr. Latham set me to work the following morn- 
 ing. I then appreciated the kindness of Mr. Miller in 
 fitting me out with light linen clothing, for the sun 
 beat down upon me with the force of a red ball of 
 fire right above my head. The sugar house and still 
 bouse were not far from the plantation headquarters, 
 and I was taken through them and told the mysteries 
 of making rum and sugar. I quickly learned my du 
 ties and soon became expert in the intricacies of tb<" 
 art. A long trough carried the waste from the suea^ 
 house to the still house, and this waste was used in 
 the rum making. Two negroes were kept constantly 
 at work to keep the sugar from filling up the troue^- 
 I told Mr. Latham that if he had an Irish spade, th 
 
40 I Begini Plantationj Life. 
 
 work could he done easily by one man, who would 
 even then have time to spare for something else. He 
 had never seen just such a spade as I described, but he 
 sent to England for some and they came a few months 
 later. When they arrived I took one of them out to 
 show the blacks how to use it. Just as I got started, 
 I heard a fight out in the yard, and went to see what 
 was happening. It was between two of the slaves. 
 As soon as they saw me they stopped fighting and 
 slunk away, so great was their fear of a white face. 
 
 When I returned to the waste trough, I found the 
 negro was using the spade to stir the sirrup. I was 
 always quick tempered, and yelled at him to drop the 
 spade immediately. Then I ran up took the spade 
 and struck him over the head, cutting a bad gash in 
 his scalp. When he got better he went into town and 
 sued me, but when the trial came up and it was found 
 that he had sued a white man they held his horse in 
 bond until he had paid me $25, a negro not being al- 
 lowed to sue a white man under the laws of the island. 
 
 One Saturday I went into Savanna la Mar and 
 found that a circus was laid up because the ship had 
 foundered in the harbor. I soon got acquainted with 
 some of the men, and when they found that I had been 
 a member of the "profession." I was made quite one of 
 them. I invited some of them out to the estate with 
 me, and as they could not leave the island they went 
 with me. There they saw a little black dwarf they 
 wanted to take with them. He was only about two 
 feet high and his hands and feet were like those of a 
 monkey, the vertiable missing link. They asked me 
 
I Begin Plantation Life. 41 
 
 if they couldn't buy the dwarf, and I told them I didn't 
 think they could, as the blacks would not let him go 
 away. They had a sort of superstitious reverence for 
 the little deformed creature. 
 
 At last I agreed to steal the boy for them, and one 
 day I found him alone in the cane field, picked him up 
 and jumped on my horse. I started for town as fast 
 as the horse could go, the darkey howling at the top of 
 his voice. At last he was heard by some of the 
 blacks, who jumped on horses and started after me. 
 It was a mad race for many miles, but my horse was 
 overburdened and had been going longer than the 
 others and I soon saw that I would be captured. I 
 was then about five miles from the town, with my 
 horse galloping his best, I loosened my hold on the 
 dwarf and he dropped into the road. I never stopped 
 to see if he was hurt, but kept on going, fearing the 
 wrath of the blacks. They stopped the pursuit as 
 soon as they got the boy, and rode back to the estate. 
 
 I stayed in town several days before venturing back 
 among them, but finally returned and found the little 
 dwarf all right, and the incident practically forgotten. 
 The men thought I was only playing a joke, and never 
 found out that I was trying to steal the dwarf, to make 
 him an attraction in a circus, with a place in a cage, like 
 a wild animal. 
 
 I had only been on the plantation a few months 
 when the stiller, Mr. Proctor, died, and as there was no 
 one else to take his place it was given to me to take 
 charge of the rum making. I had been working under 
 Mr. Proctor all the time I had been there, and had 
 
42 Hold-up Tliat Failed. 
 
 learned the chief points in the trade. I had little 
 trouble superintending the work, though sometimes I 
 would find myself in a place where something new oc- 
 curred, and then I had to wrack my brain for a way to 
 solve the problem. The work was so confining, how- 
 ever, that my health broke down, and when the crop 
 was all taken off Mr. Latham sent me to Retherwood 
 Mountain, a health and summer resort for the white 
 planters. After the crop was off the slaves could 
 easily do the work for the balance of the year. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 Hold-Up That Failed. 
 
 I had only been at Retherford a few days when 
 a slave came with a letter for me from Mr. 
 Latham, telling me I was wanted at the plantation. I 
 at once rode back with the slave, and Mr. Latham told 
 me he wanted me tO' go to Kingston for money for the 
 estate. He told me it was a dangerous mission, but 
 that he had no one else who could go. I started the 
 following morning, driving a team of mules, with a 
 slave named Tom riding behind with two' horses, to 
 be ridden if anything went wrong with the cart. I 
 had two pistols Mr. Latham gave me to be used in case 
 of trouble, and had been taught to use them. 
 
 It was a perilous trip for a lad of my years, but I 
 had been so long accustomed to care for myself that I 
 felt little fear of the consequences, and was really a 
 
Hold-up 'IThat Failed. 43 
 
 man in everything but years and stature. We had to 
 sleep at night in the huts of the half-civilized blacks 
 along the way, and no money was given them, for our 
 accommodation. On the last day of the journey in, 
 I stopped at the home of Mr. Hayden, about sixteen 
 miles out from Kingston. He invited me to remain 
 one day with him, and he would go to the city with me, 
 but I was compelled to decline, as Mr. Latham ex- 
 pected me to return as soon as possible. 
 
 "It certainly is something wonderful that so small 
 a lad is trusted with such an errand?" said Mr. Hayden 
 in parting. "I hope you will fare well on the journey. 
 Stop and see me again on your return." 
 
 It was just before noon when I reached Kingston. 
 After dinner I called on Mr. Spot, the banker, who had 
 been sent word in advance of my coming. He was 
 very cordial and asked me to stay in the city all night, 
 but I had promised to be back with Mr. Hayden that 
 evening, so declined the invitation. 
 
 I got the money and started on the return journey 
 as soon as possible. Everything went well until we 
 reached Yellow Creek, a small stream about fourteen 
 miles out of Kingston. Tom kept hanging back with 
 the horses, and the mules would not enter the water 
 unless the horses led off. I called to Tom to hurry 
 ahead with the horses, but he seemed not to be sO' anx- 
 ious for speed as I was, though it was <>-rowing late, 
 and he hung back, though I called to him several 
 times. 
 
 Suddenly a negro came out of the b^nsh beside the 
 road, and bowing to me, asked what titne it was. I 
 
44 Hold-Up That Failed. 
 
 was annoyed at the delay, and answered that I did not 
 care what hour it might be, and the fellow walked 
 back and began talking to Tom. Then another black 
 came from the brush and asked the same question. 
 It began to look serious, as this fellow did not wait for 
 a reply, but walked back toward Tom and the horses. 
 
 As I turned to see what was coming off in the 
 rear, a third black jumped out of the wood and seized 
 the head of the near mule. Quick as a flash, I realized 
 that it was a plan to rob me. I whipped out one of 
 the pistols and fired at the fellow ahead. He bent 
 over as though hit then turned and ran into the brush, 
 the others following as fast as they could. 
 
 Tom was all a tremble. Pointing the pistod at 
 him, I ordered him to ride ahead tO' Mr. Hayden's and 
 tell him what had happened, while I would follow as 
 fast as possible in the cart. 
 
 I made good speed and arrived at the Hayden 
 place soon after Tom had told of the affair, and Mr. 
 Hayden was preparing to come for me. 
 
 Mr. Hayden and I got fresh horses and rode back 
 to Yellow Creek. We found a black finger lying be- 
 side the road, evidently a memento torn from the hand 
 of the man at whom I had fired. A trail of blood led 
 to the creek, but there we lost it, and returned to Mr, 
 Hayden's in time for supper. 
 
 Mr. Hayden had Tom put in irons, believing he 
 had told the blacks of the motive of my journey to 
 Kingston, and had formed a plot to rob me. While 
 circumstances were ae^ainst him, I could not believe 
 that Tom was guilty, but nothing I could say would 
 
A Happy Reunion 45 
 
 save him. When I started for home the next morn- 
 ing, Mr. Hayden sent one of his slaves in place of Tom, 
 and we arrived at the estate in good time without 
 further mishap. 
 
 A few days later Tom was brought back to the 
 plantation in irons. His crime was considered the 
 greater, as he was one of the most trusted slaves on 
 the place. Mr. Latham heard my story, and though 
 I tried to shield the poor fellow, it was of no avail. He 
 was put in the treadmill to wear his life away, and re- 
 mained there till he died. I was always sorry, ever 
 after, that I did not kill the boy instead of letting him 
 live to grind away his life in the tread mill. 
 
 The following morning Mr. Latham gave me an 
 extra ten pound note and told me I might return to 
 Retherford, and stay as long as I liked. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 A Happy Reunion. 
 
 One need not be an old man to discover that this 
 old world is a very small affair after all. Here was I, 
 a lad of thirteen or fourteen years, several thousand 
 miles away from the home of my birth, and every once 
 in a while finding some one with whom I had mutual 
 acquaintances in the good old city of Belfast or at some 
 other point of my wanderings. 
 
 Rutherford was the resort for the people who were 
 self-exiled from the Emerald Isle, and there I found 
 
46 A Happy Reunion. 
 
 I was quite at home, listening to tales of that little 
 green spot, and drinking in the soft music of the voices 
 of the lads and lassies who came there to spend the hot 
 days of midsummer. 
 
 We were all care free. After the cane crop was 
 off, there was little to do that could not be done by the 
 slaves until a new crop was grown. So we took long 
 holidays, and lolled about under the trees trying to keep 
 cool in an almost impossible climate. Cool salt 
 breezes were sometimes wafted to us from the ocean 
 a few miles away, and with talking and smoking and an 
 occasional day of sports such as we used to have on fair 
 days in Ireland, we managed to spend many delightful 
 days. While I was yet but a chunk of a boy in years, 
 the fact that I was stillman at Millersburg — the name 
 given to the plantation house, barracks and slave huts 
 on the Miller estate — gave me the standing of a man 
 among men. What I lacked in stature was made up 
 by a sturdy nature and that self-confidence that ever 
 comes to the young wanderer, thrown from the cradle 
 into the midst of the whirl of life and compelled to 
 sink or swim by his own efiforts. There were lads of 
 my own asre there with their fathers and mothers, but 
 with them I found little companionship, for while they 
 were yet boys, I was a man grown before my time. 
 
 One morninsf as I was sitting in a party of men dis- 
 cussing: home and family, I told them somethino- of my 
 short life — how I had left home when all but a babe and 
 had never seen kith or kin since. 
 
 "By the wav." said George Ballans "there's a lad 
 of your name living with his mother at Dr. T^Hen's 
 
A Happy Reunion. 47 
 
 place about thirty miles from here. Now Owens is 
 not such a common name. Perhaps he may be a rela- 
 tive of yours." 
 
 Ballans did not know the boy's first name, nor 
 more than that his name was Owens and that he was 
 from Ireland. 
 
 "I'll soon know who he is," I said, and in twenty 
 minutes I was on horseback, flying onward with a hope 
 in my heart — that hope that ever buoys youth up — that 
 the lad named Owens might tell me something of my 
 former home and friends. 
 
 And yet, as I neared the Jellen plantation my heart 
 misgave me and I slackened the pace of my horse, put- 
 ting off the possible disappointment as long as I could. 
 But at last I reached the plantation. Giving my tired 
 horse to a slave, I asked for Dr. Jellen and was ushered 
 into his study. 
 
 '*! hear you have a lad named Owens here," I told 
 him, **and as my name is Owens I came to inquire. 
 Perhaps — I hope — he's a relative." 
 
 *'Yes?" said the doctor in a tone of inquiry, but as 
 I could go no further and sat trembling awaiting for 
 some news, he said : *'The boy's name is Matthew 
 and his mother is the widow of Captain Hughie 
 Drain." 
 
 "^ V mother," I whispered so low that for an in- 
 stant the doctor did not know what I said, but seeins: 
 the look 'n my eyes he understood. 
 
 "^^'^■f here," he said, ,sroing out. 
 
48 A Happy Reunion. 
 
 It seemed like an age, sitting there in the cool quiet 
 study, though it could only have been a few moments 
 that I was left alone. 
 
 Suddenly the door opened and for an instant I saw 
 the doctor's kindly face. Then the door was closed 
 and I stood face to face with my mother. 
 
 "Jinimie," she sobbed and clasped me to her heart, 
 while I could only weep and cling to her, murmuring 
 that dear old name that is never forgotten, "Mother." 
 
 Soon she sat down and tried to take me on her 
 knee, me who had become a man in the few short years 
 I had been from her side — a man, though with a boy's 
 heart in thought and love for the mother he had de- 
 serted three thousand miles away across the sea. 
 
 Then we began the history of those years, and I 
 learned that Captain Drain, remembering the tropical 
 beauties of Jamacia, which he had visited while on a 
 cruise in the King's navy, had decided to spend his last 
 years there, and sailed from Belfast within a year after 
 I had run away, bringing my mother, brother and sister 
 with him. For five years they had lived together on 
 the island, then the Captain and my sister died, leaving 
 my mother and little brother to fight the battle of life 
 unaided. Mother had little else to tell me of the years 
 between. She had found good friends in Dr. Jellen 
 and his wife, and the keen struggle for life had been 
 made brighter and happier by their kindness. 
 
 While we were talking Little Matthew came in., 
 shy but happy in finding the long lost brother of whom 
 he had heard so much. I looked down upon him as a 
 child from my superior age and experience — I was two 
 
Uprising of the Blacks. 49 
 
 years his senior — and I determined that we should not 
 be parted again for long. 
 
 After two days of happy reunion I mounted my 
 horse and rode away to Millersburg to arrange for their 
 coming. Mr. Latham gladly welcomed my plan, and 
 in a very short while we v/ere a reunited family — 
 Mother, Matthew and myself — under one roof, and the 
 future seemed brighter for all of us. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Uprising of the Blacks. 
 
 Shortly after mother and Matthew came to make 
 their home with me at Millersburg, in 1839, the trouble 
 that had been brewing among the negroes in our sec- 
 tion of the islands broke out in full force. The act of 
 emancipation had been passed by the British Parlia- 
 ment, but the time of apprenticeship did not expire and 
 their full freedom come until 1841. It was only seven 
 years after the great riots in the western end of the 
 island, and the ferocity of the blacks at that time was 
 well remembered. When the unrest developed around 
 Savanna la Mar the planters prepared for real fighting. 
 Quickly all the planters gathered their families in the 
 town and prepared for the attack that they felt certain 
 was sure to come. 
 
 Savanna la Mar was a town of only one long street, 
 running from the harbor toward the country. The 
 Rev. Mr. Fiddler, who taught a school to which I sent 
 
50 Uprising of the Blacks. 
 
 Matthew, knew something of military tactics, and he 
 arranged the planters into some semblance of military 
 discipline. We secured two cannon from the ship 
 Murray, which happened to be in the harbor, built a 
 barricade at the shore end of the street, planted the 
 guns and awaited the coming of the rebels. 
 
 For two days we waited for news. Scouts were 
 kept as far inland as was considered safe. On the sec- 
 ond day the scouts galloped into town and reported the 
 blacks in great numbers less than two miles away. 
 
 Soon the great horde came down upon us, armed 
 with clubs and machetes. Silently we waited for them 
 as they approached, waited until they were almost at 
 the cannon's mouth, then Fiddler shouted the order. 
 "Fire." 
 
 Instantly the cannon belched forth death and de- 
 struction. Great gaps were cut through the ranks of 
 the rebels, and they broke and fled. 
 
 Then began the rifle fire. We had held back to 
 witness the result of the cannon shots. Now we 
 poured volley after volley into the retreating blacks as 
 they ran, doing terrible execution. 
 
 All that day, that night and the following day we 
 kept up the pursuit, driving the rebels on and pouring a 
 merciless fire into their depleted ranks. Hundreds of 
 them fell dead or dying before the barricade, scores 
 fell along the roadside, and dozens in the cane fields. 
 We left them, food for the carrion birds while we 
 pushed on the remnant of the force to the foot of the 
 mountains, where they scattered and escaped. 
 
Uprising) of the Blacks. 51 
 
 Terrible scenes met our view as we rode back un- 
 scathed to Savanna la Mar. We had not lost a man, 
 but everywhere along the road was evidence of a terri- 
 ble slaughter. Bodies lay at every turn, and here and 
 there where the rebels attempted to make a stand 
 would be seen a little group of victims of the deadly 
 aim of the whites. 
 
 And not all were dead. Here and there would lie 
 a wounded negro, and as we passed his pitiful cries for 
 succor would be heart rending, but we v/ould pass on 
 with scarce a look, or perhaps one more humane among 
 us would end the poor devil's suffering with a bullet 
 from his pistol. 
 
 There were no slaves to bury the hundreds of dead, 
 and the bodies would have lain rotting on the roads and 
 in the fields, but Mr. Fiddler ordered that they be gath- 
 ered up and thrown into the bay. For days we drove 
 back and forth with cart loads of the victims and cast 
 them into the sea. It was ghastly work and nauseat- 
 ing, but work that must be done. No prayers were 
 said, no thoughts of future life for these poor victims 
 of their own wrath, but occasionally a planter would 
 come upon the corpse of one whom he had thought his 
 most faithful and trustworthy servant, and with a sigh 
 he would turn away and leave its disposal to one in 
 whom there could be no thought of sentiment. 
 
 With all our care, not all the bodies were discov- 
 ered. For months and years, we would occasionally 
 find the skeleton of a man in some isolated section of 
 the plantations, and would know that it was only an- 
 other victim of the rebellion. 
 
52 My Friend, the Pirate. 
 
 One fight ended the uprising, though for months 
 the planters dared not venture to talce up their homes 
 in the country as before, but kept their families at 
 Savanna la Mar, only armed guards staying on the out- 
 lying estates. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 My Friend the Pirate. 
 
 Three miles out from Savanna la Mar was the 
 plantation of Touselin & Davis. Having nothing else 
 to do, I accepted a proposition from them to take a 
 party of guards out and take charge of the place until 
 it was possible for me to return to Millersburg. 
 
 Theirs was a fine old plantation, a most delight- 
 ful place to spend a few weeks with nothing to do. I 
 gathered together a number of my Irish friends and we 
 were soon having great sport, a sort of vacation trip 
 for all of us. Touselin was reputed to be a pirate, and 
 we found all sorts of evidence of his piratical expedi- 
 tions in his house, as there was no one to restrain our 
 curiosity. 
 
 One evening I discovered great racks of wine in 
 the cellar, and of course told the others about it. That 
 night we robed ourselves in sheets and scared the few 
 faithful servants who remained on the place so badly 
 that they never would venture around the plantation 
 house after dark. Then began nights of revelry. We 
 
My Friend, the Pirate. 53 
 
 figured that it was no crime tO' rob a pirate, so made the 
 most of our opportunity. 
 
 The wine was in bottles behind wire screens 
 through which it was impossible to drag the bottles, 
 but we fixed a piece of wire and would draw the necks 
 of the bottles out, pull the corks and empty the wine in- 
 to buckets. Then we would push the bottles as far 
 back as possible. The corks we threw on the floor 
 inside the racks. 
 
 For four months we were given free run of the 
 place, and we emptied hundreds of bottles. 
 
 As soon as all danger from the rebellious blacks 
 hadp assed, Touselin came with a negro servant and a 
 wagon to get a load of wine. When they unlocked 
 the racks and went in the negro picked up a bottle and 
 found it empty. 
 
 "De cockroaches am a playin' hob wif dis wine, 
 Mars. Touselin," he said, picking up a cork that looked 
 like it had been chewed. 
 
 The negro's explanation of the empty bottles 
 seemed logical, and the real criminals escaped without 
 so much as being questioned. 
 
 A few days after this all came back to the Touselin 
 place and we guards left, Matthew going back to school 
 and I went to the estate. I remained at the estate un- 
 til the camp was taken off, then went again to spend 
 the summer at Retherford. One day I went out with 
 a party to hunt parrots. We felled a tree with a nest 
 in it, and it fell across a ravine. When I clambered 
 out along the tree to secure the nest I slipped and 
 
54 My Friend, the Pirate. 
 
 scratched the skin from my ankle. It did not seem 
 like it would develope anything serious, and I paid no 
 attention to it. But the next Sunday I was invited to 
 take a trip with a party of friends. I put on my high 
 boots and spent much of the day on my feet. As a 
 result my leg swelled, and that evening when I re- 
 turned to the hotel I had to cut the boot from my foot. 
 
 The wound bothered me always after that until I 
 came to the United States, the climate in Jamacia being 
 such that there was no remedy that would have any 
 effect on the wound. I was finally advised to call on 
 an old Spanish woman well versed in the use of herbs, 
 and I did. She gave me a poultice of plaintain leaves, 
 and this helped to give me some relief, but did not cure 
 me. The wound would not heal in that climate, and 
 that was finally one of the reasons I came to America. 
 
 It seemed fated that I could have no health in the 
 climate of Jamaica. After my leg got better I returned 
 to Millersburg to help take care of the season's crop, 
 but before the work was finished I was stricken with 
 black flux, and all the next summer I remained at Reth- 
 erford trying to get cured up. That was in 1841, the 
 year the blacks finally gained their freedom. Then 
 they would not work, and of course, so long as they 
 would not gather the crops we could not run the sugar 
 and still houses. . So I could do nothing, and re- 
 mained at Retherford all that year. It was a sore dis- 
 appointment to me, and I was almost as much grieved 
 as the owners at the enormous loss that must be sus- 
 tained, because the crops were allowed to rot on the 
 ground for want of laborers in the fields. 
 
Trip to Far East. 55 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Trip to Far East. 
 
 I was growing very restless under the enforced 
 idleness, and was just thinking of leaving the country 
 for good, when Mr. Latham, the manager, received a 
 letter from the company, telling him to send me to the 
 East Indies if I cared to go, and I promptly assented, 
 for to me anything was better than continued idleness, 
 and arrangements were made for me to take passage 
 on a man-of-war that happened to be going direct to 
 Calcutta. It was my first experience on a man-of-war. 
 and I found great pleasure in watching the drills of 
 the men, and in listening to some of the tales they told 
 of great sea fights they had been in. It was great 
 experience for a lad of my years, and I did not mind 
 the long voyage at all. We stopped at many ports, 
 and I occasionally took trips on shore with some of the 
 men. 
 
 But the long sea voyage did not have the beneficial 
 effect on my health that was expected, and I landed in 
 Calcutta all broken down physically. 
 
 I was unable to do anything then, but remained 
 there some time, and had an opportunity tO' study 
 things in general somewhat from the view of an entire 
 outsider. I was practically struck with the power wield- 
 ed by the East India Company, which almost ruled 
 the country. They had secured control of some of the 
 heathen gods and had shut them up, and they would 
 
56 Trip to Far East. 
 
 only allow the people to go in and worship on fete days, 
 and then they charged them an admission fee. I also 
 saw a great deal of the work of the missionaries, and I 
 am free to say that I did not fancy them. The mis- 
 sionaries broke up a great many of the native families 
 by converting some of the members, thus causing all 
 sorts of trouble. 
 
 I got acquainted with the son of one of the chief 
 men of the native population of the town, and the boy 
 wore a long cue. With a couple of others I one day 
 caught the boy and cut off his cue. He acted like he 
 was crazy, and he got together a lot of men and fol- 
 lowed me into the section of the city where I was liv- 
 ing. They were armed with clubs and pitch forks, and 
 we had to flee to the ship for safety. They declared 
 they would kill God if He made them cut off their hair. 
 
 As my health failed to improve in the Indian 
 climate, the firm sent me to Madras, and I stayed there 
 four months, getting worse rather than better. So 
 the company decided that I had better return to Ja- 
 maica to be among my friends, even though that cli- 
 mate was not perfectly suited to my condition. On 
 the way we stopped at Manila, and remained there 
 about six weeks. I did not get out in the country 
 much, but spent most of my time in the city. I had 
 not the strength to do much running about, and as the 
 weather was very bad, I was content to stay in my 
 hotel and take things as easy as possible. Conse- 
 quently, very little of interest came under my obser- 
 vation there, and I was very glad when the time came 
 for us to resume our journey westward. 
 
Trip to Far East. 57 
 
 When I reached Jamaica I found the negroes still 
 in a very unsettled state. There were very few yet 
 willing to return to the plantations and work for wages. 
 They had been so long hoping for freedom that they 
 seemed inclined to have absolute rest, though they 
 never were compelled to work extremely hard. But 
 with things as they were then, there was nothing for 
 me to do, and after three or four months of idleness, I 
 decided to go to Cuba and see if I could find work. 
 
 All this time the firm had been very fair, and even 
 kind to me. My pay went on just the same as if I had 
 been working every day, and I felt that their treatment 
 of me was a strong compliment to my faithfulness and 
 ability when there was work to be done. I shall never 
 forget their kindness as long as I may live. 
 
 My mother and brother I had left at the estate 
 when I went to India, and when I returned I found 
 that mother had been in poor health. Every attention 
 had been paid to her, but she was ageing, and we all 
 soon saw that she was nearing the close of her earthly 
 pilgrimage. At last the end came. Sorrowfully and 
 tenderly we laid her to rest in the little grave yard at 
 Savanna la Mar, and Matthew and I felt that we were 
 indeed left alone in the world, not only to make our 
 own way, but without the counsel and encouragement 
 of a loving mother ever watching over us. Her death 
 decided me to go to Cuba. I felt that I must work to 
 drive away some of the feeling of loneliness that then 
 came to me. So I left Matthew in school with Mr. 
 Fiddler and I again started out to find a new place in 
 a new world to me. With a party of other young men 
 
58 Experiences in Cuba. 
 
 in my circumstances I sailed from Kingston, keeping 
 my back to the past and with a strong hope for the fu- 
 ture. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Experiences in Cuba. 
 
 We found conditions somewhat different when we 
 arrived in Cuba. Work was plentiful, and I had the 
 good fortune to meet a man named Kessuck, who had 
 visited Jamaica and had stopped at the Miller estate. 
 He was also a manufacturer of sugar and rum, and 
 wanted a man to take charge of the still house. 
 
 "Can you make as good rum for me as you made 
 for the Miller's?" he asked me. 
 
 "I don't see why I shouldn't," I replied, and we 
 promptly struck a bargain. 
 
 He gave me a contract which called for very fair 
 pay, but I was to receive a considerable increase if I 
 succeeded in making as good rum as I made in Jamaica. 
 
 The following morning after striking the bargain, 
 he took me out to see his still house, and I soon saw 
 where the trouble lay with his rum. The still was too 
 small. 
 
 "To make good rum, you must have a larger still, 
 as the rum will burn in such a still," I told him. 
 
 His tanks only had a capacity of forty barrels of 
 dunder. and to make good rum I told him it would be 
 necessary to build tanks that would hold two thousand 
 
Experiences in Cuba. 59 
 
 barrels, and a still the same size with a worm five 
 hundred feet long, instead of the one he had, which was 
 not over fifty feet. In making rum, one must be very 
 careful not to allow any burn to appear in the taste of 
 it, as it can then never be cured. 
 
 "If you will allow me to make these changes I 
 think we can make as good rum here as anywhere," I 
 told him. "The water and everything else seems of 
 the best." 
 
 I did not know then, but learned it afterward, as 
 everybody else has, that there seems to be something in 
 the atmosphere of Jamaica that makes its rum super- 
 ior to anything else in the world. What it is no one 
 to this day seems able to explain, but it is nevertheless 
 a fact. 
 
 However, I was not destined to learn this fact from 
 experience, though Mr. Kessuck gave me free hand at 
 fixing the still house to suit my ideas. 
 
 I had about four months to build a new still house 
 and have everything ready for the next crop, but as 
 there was considerable work to be done, I began at 
 once. He gave me as many negroes as I could keep 
 busy, and we soon had the old building torn down and 
 the foundation laid for the new ones. But on the 
 nineteenth day, when everything was in the most 
 chaotic state, two priests came to the plantation with a 
 letter which they handed to me. I refused to take it, 
 telling them that I was not the man who owned the 
 estate and that I did not belong to them. An Irish 
 protestant ever has a great dislike for the Catholic, 
 clergy, and though I was never much of a churchman 
 
60 Experiences in Cuba. 
 
 of any kind, still I had the same aversion. It must 
 have been born in me. 
 
 The priests began to talk to each other in Spanish, 
 and not understanding them, I thought they were put- 
 ting a curse on me. I decided that I could play a little 
 at that game myself, and gave them a string of vituper- 
 ation that would have made a West Indian pirate proud 
 of my vocabulary. 
 
 Then an interpreter came up and told me I must 
 not swear at the priests, as they owned the island and 
 that if I refused to take the letter they would put me in 
 prison. 
 
 Now, I never was much of a hand for prison, so I 
 finally consented to take the letter and delivered it to 
 Mr, Kessuck, and the priests left. 
 
 When Mr. Kessuck returned, I delivered the letter 
 to him. It was an order for me to attend church 
 every Sunday. I guess I must have been the only un- 
 regenerate on the island, and the priests were loathe 
 to lose an opportunity to have the island entirely Cath- 
 olic — at least to all outward seeming. Still I was little 
 inclined to be taken to church by force, and I so told 
 Mr. Kessuck. 
 
 He declared that there was no way out of it, and 
 even he might be sent to prison for harboring a prot- 
 estant. He asked me to ride up to the church every 
 Sunday, even if I did not enter, but at this I got angry, 
 and told him I was not a Catholic by preference and did 
 not propose to be made one by force, not even if they 
 did send me to prison. Mr. Kessuck wanted me to at 
 
Experiences in Cuba. 61 
 
 least pocket my prejudices until I had fixed up the 
 place, but I would not do even this. 
 
 That night, as I lay in bed, I began to think pretty 
 seriously about the situation in which I was placed and 
 I began to realize that Cuba was the most unhealthful 
 place for me on the globe. So I got up, packed up a 
 little bundle of clothing and slipped out into the night. 
 All that night I walked on toward Havana. When 
 the sun came up, I lay down under a mango tree and 
 slept till night came on, then resumed my journey. I 
 felt like a criminal fleeing from prison, and I would 
 hide in the undergrowth by the road side every time I 
 saw any one coming. At last I reached the city, and 
 I took the first vessel bound for Jamaica, where I knew 
 I could be free from the disturbances of the priests. 
 
 What became of the lads who came with me from 
 Jamaica I did not know, and I dared not ask for fear 
 that I might be detected and be made to return to the 
 Kessuck plantation^ — which I would have been glad to 
 do, but I was more afraid that they would force me to 
 go and sit under the preaching of the priests whom I 
 so thoroughly despised. 
 
 Until time to sail away I had another name and 
 for the time Jimmie Owens was lost to the world, to be 
 resurrected when I should again be under the protec- 
 tion of the British flag, where a man can have any reli- 
 gion he likes, and can get along with none if he so de- 
 sires. 
 
62 Brief Experience as Ship Steward. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Brief Experience as Ship Steward. 
 
 When I returned to Jamaica I found that the ne- 
 groes were as much unsettled as when I left, and there 
 was then no chance for me to work on the estate. Idle- 
 ness had become very irksome to me and I decided I 
 could not stand it lying around Retherford, so tofd Mr. 
 Latham I had decided to go to California. 
 
 After staying a couple of days with Matthew at 
 Savanna la Mar, I went to Kingston, where I shipped 
 on board a vessel as assistant steward. The ship was 
 going to California around the Horn, and I thought it 
 a much better scheme to work my way than to have 
 to pay fare and have nothing to do throughout the en- 
 tire voyage, which would have consumed months. 
 
 The second day out they set me to cleaning the 
 compass lamp, and I, not knowing that was loose in 
 the socket, tipped it up to pour out the oil. With a 
 bang it slipped out, struck the rail, then fell into the 
 sea. The mate saw the accident, and I knew I was in 
 for it. I oflFered to pa}^ the value of the lamp, but 
 money was not what they wanted. They needed the 
 lamp, as there was not another one on board. All that 
 they compelled me to hold candles so they could see 
 the compass and the following day I had to do my 
 usual round of work. I saw that I was doomed to a 
 life of toil day and night for months. As my health 
 was far from good, I knew it meant death to me. 
 During the night, I fell asleep and dropped the candle, 
 
Brief Experieiice as Ship Steward. 63 
 
 and then got a taste of the cat-o'nine-tails that showed 
 me that a living hell was in store for me for the bal- 
 ance of the voyage. 
 
 The ship put into Green Bay to get a supply of 
 water before making a full start on the vo3^age and to 
 get a supply of fresh meat. I had only a fair idea of 
 the place, though I knew it was on the lower end of 
 the island, miles away from my friends, but I determin- 
 ed to get away from the ship if possible. My body 
 was marked with welts left by the rope, and I was 
 worn out from want of sleep. My condition made me 
 desperate. 
 
 Luckily, I was sent with the party on shore to 
 carry back the meat, and I watched for my opportuni- 
 ty. As we went along, about a mile from the ship I 
 saw a path leading into the deep undergrowth, and I 
 made up my mind that as we returned I would get 
 away by that path or die in the attempt. 
 
 All tne party but myself were armed with pistols, 
 and I felt that they would not be afraid to use them, 
 but that did not deter me. We were on shore proba- 
 ble an hour or two, and then started back to the vessel. 
 I was carrying a heavy basket of meat, and was walk- 
 ing ahead. I walked as fast as I could when we 
 neared the path, in an endeavor to get a little way 
 ahead of the others. 
 
 Just as I reached the path, I dropped the basket 
 and ran for it. The guards fired, but no bullets hit 
 me, and I was convinced they were firing in the air. 
 Still my heart was beating wildly, and I was almost 
 ready to fall from exhaustion. Finally I turned, and 
 
S4 Brief Experience as Ship Steward. 
 
 could see no one, nor could I hear anyone coming, so I 
 slackened my pace, and finally lay down in a concealed 
 place in the underbrush to rest. 
 
 Suddenly I became drowsy and fell asleep before 
 I realized that I was not yet out of danger. How 
 long I slept I can not tell, but it must have been several 
 hours, as it was nearly sundown when I awoke. 
 
 The sleep had refreshed me somewhat, though I 
 was stiff and sore from my experience on shipboard. 
 But I started on, knowing a hard journey was before 
 me. The only way I could get back to Savanna la 
 Mar was to walk. I was afraid to go into the town at 
 Green Bay, for fear the ship crew might have left a 
 warrant for me, so I struck out for the nearest friendly 
 haven, Millersburg. 
 
 It was a long, weary trip, but at last I arrived 
 there safe and happy to have made my escape, even 
 at the cost of so much fatigue and suffering, for I knew 
 that worse awaited me if I remained with the ship. 
 
 It seemed fated that I should not escape from 
 Jamaica, and though I had had many and prosperous 
 days on the island, I was determined to leave, for the 
 days of its prosperity for me seemed to be at an end. 
 After a little rest I went to Savanna la Mar, and 
 stayed a few days with Matthew at Fiddler's school. 
 
 I had heard great stories about the chances for 
 young men in America, and though my recent exper- 
 iences had greatly depleted my purse, I made up my 
 mind to leave for the United States and take Matthew 
 with me. Mr. Latham and Mr. Fiddler agreed that 
 my plan was a good one, though they said they were 
 
My Arrival in America. 65 
 
 sorry to have us leave. I spent the last few days on 
 the island visiting friends in the country, and while 
 there both Matthew and I were poisoned, Matthew suf- 
 fering from something like ivy poison on the leg, and 
 I had eaten what I thought were mushrooms, but 
 which, by making me very sick, proved that they were 
 not. However, when the ship arrived, I was feeling 
 well enough to start, and we bade good-bye to our 
 many friends, and again started out in the world, full 
 of hope in the future and faith in the free country for 
 which we were destined. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XVH. 
 My Arrival in America. 
 
 After paying the fare on the boat for Matthew and 
 myself, I had only about five dollars left on which to 
 start life in America. The health of both of us began 
 to improve on the voyage and we were feeling first rate 
 when we landed at Norfolk, Va., on July 3, 1843. 
 
 There a new experience was awaiting us. At 
 midnight as we lay asleep, we were aroused by the 
 ringing of bells ; blowing of steam whistles and boom- 
 ing of cannon. We both jumped up, thinking the 
 town must be burning or the slaves had revolted, only 
 to be told that it was the Fourth of July, and this was 
 the noisy way they had in America of celebrating In- 
 dependence Day. I have now lived in America long 
 
66 My Arrival in America. 
 
 enough to appreciate the occasion, and if I were out 
 of the country when the date comes around each year 
 I would feel lost without the noise and the red fire 
 that are the natural complement of the day. 
 
 We wanted to go tO' Baltimore, but the fare was 
 five dollars each by boat and we could not both ride 
 on one ticket. I tried to convince the ticket agent 
 that he ought to accept the five and let us both go on 
 one ticket, but he could not see it in that light! So,, 
 after three days trying to arrange the matter, I de- 
 cided to let Matthew go by boat with the baggage and 
 I would follow on foot. I bought a ticket for him and 
 helped him on board with the baggage. Just as we 
 got it all on board the plank was pulled in, and the 
 boat started Avith me still on board. When the boat 
 was between Norfolk and Newport they came for our 
 tickets and I tried to explain, but the Captain would 
 not listen to me, and gave me a good dressing down for 
 trying to beat ni}^ way. When about half way across 
 the bay we met another boat and the two ran along 
 side each other and I was put on board the other boat 
 to be taken back to Norfolk. They had hardly gotten 
 started when the Baltimore boat blew its whistle, they 
 came along side again and the Captain ordered me to 
 come aboard. I started to comply when a man on 
 the boat told me to remain where I was. 
 
 "They put you off,'" he said, ''now make them put 
 you on again." 
 
 It did not take them long to give me a boost that 
 sent me flying to the deck of the other boat and we 
 were soon again on our way. 
 
xMy Arrival in America. 67 
 
 The man who had spoken to me greeted me cor- 
 dially and told me he was Samuel Huston, of Virginia. 
 Some one had told the Captain that I was a sailor es- 
 caping from the British navy, and the Captain came 
 up and asked me who and what I was, so I told him my 
 whole story. Mr. Fluston asked me to go to his place 
 in Virginia and be a slave overseer, but I told him I 
 had had enough of the negroes and wanted to get as 
 far away from them as possible. Then he offered to 
 give me some money, l)Ut this I declined, telling him 
 I was not a subject for charity so long as I was able 
 to work. 
 
 So we at last landed in l>altimorc without a cent. 
 Mr. Huston was still in his berth when the boat lanrled, 
 and Matthew and I hurried ashore, not wanting to have 
 anything more to say to the Captain, as I was afraid 
 of him. We knew no one in the place, so I put our 
 baggage in a sherl and told Matthew to watch it while 
 I hunted for work. I traveled around all that day till 
 dark without success, and at last found myself on a 
 road leading out of town. I met a man and asked 
 him the way back to the docks and he gave me the 
 right direction. I soon came to a livery stable, and 
 there I again applied for work. 
 
 "You look more like you were looking for a grave 
 yard than for work," said the proprietor, but he was 
 still very kind about it and sent me to another stable 
 and told me to tell the man there to give me a place 
 to stay till I found something better. 
 
 I followed his directions, and was soon at the 
 second stable, where I found a man named Owen 
 
68 More Experience With. Priests. 
 
 Brown. I told him why I came to see him, and when 
 I told him my name was Owens and that I had just 
 come from Jamaica, he said he knew my brother 
 Robert. 
 
 "You don't look much like an Irishman," he said, 
 looking me over and noting my yellow sickly appear- 
 ance. "But Bob Owens told me he had two brothers 
 in Jamaica, and if you are one of them you can stay 
 here without work as long as you like." 
 
 Brown sent a wagon after Matthew and the bag- 
 gage and brought him to the stable. The following 
 Sunday he sent for Robert and brought him to see us. 
 Neither of us had seen Robert since the family was 
 broke up by Captain Drain, when Matthew was but 
 a baby and I was little more. Robert had come to 
 American soon after that and spent most of his time 
 around Baltimore, and had made many friends by his 
 wholesome Irish ways. 
 
 Owen Brown proved himself a good friend to all 
 of us, and Matthew and I stayed with him several 
 weeks until I found a place to work. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 More Experience With Priests. 
 
 Finally I gfot a job driving a milk waggon for a 
 man named O'Toole. It was hard work and the pay 
 was small — four dollars a month — but it was better 
 than nothing, and I did not pass anything by in those 
 
More Experience With Priests. 69 
 
 days. I had to get up at 3 a. m., milk seven cows and 
 deliver the milk in time for other people's breakfasts. 
 I was kept comfortably busy until 9 o'clock at night, 
 so there was little time for me to get into trouble. 
 
 One morning the family all went to early mass and 
 left me to build the fires, as I did not have to go out 
 with the wagon that morning. The church was not 
 far from the house, and O'Toole soon saw his chimney 
 burning. The whole family left their devotions and 
 came running back home, but meanwhile I had gotten 
 the fire out, at the same time scattering soot all over 
 the house. 
 
 O'Toole was a devout Catholic and had three sons 
 in the priesthood. That Sunday morning he told me 
 to hitch up and go to a church about five miles away 
 and bring one of his sons home to dinner. As we 
 were returning, the horse stumbled and I cursed him. 
 
 "Don't you know you are in the presence of a holy 
 father?" he asked me, "and you should not swear." 
 
 "I'll swear if I want to," I replied. 
 
 "I could also drown you right here in the road if 
 I wanted to," said the priest. 
 
 "I'll be damned if you could drown me without 
 water," said I. 
 
 That ended the controversy, and the priest remain- 
 ed silent all the way home, evidently believing me be- 
 yond redemption. But when we got home, he told his 
 father I was a very bad boy. 
 
 "He may not be much of a lad for priests," said the 
 old man," but he's pretty good with the milk wagon." 
 
70 More Experience With Priests. 
 
 The following spring another milk man, Mr. 
 Glandell, offered me more money to work for him, so 
 O'Toole raised my wages from $4 to $16 a month, and 
 I stayed with him. 
 
 One day O'Toole asked me to go to the wharf for 
 a load of wood. As my horse had been out with the 
 milk wagon, I asked him to allow me to drive another 
 horse he had in the stable. The horse was a big raw- 
 boned blind one, and O'Toole told me he w6uld not 
 pull. But my horse was tired with his day's work, 
 and I insisted on hitching the balker to the cart. 
 
 ''All right," said the old man, "but if you get stuck 
 half way home don't blame me." 
 
 I got the wood and was making good time home, 
 when the horse decided he had done enough for one 
 day. We were only a short distance from the house 
 when the horse began backing. I had done a good 
 deal of coaxing and my patience was gone. I struck 
 the horse, but he continued to back toward the fence, 
 and finally ran the cart into a gutter. The weight of 
 the load was too much for the horse, and he was soon 
 standing on his hind legs with the end of the cart in 
 the gutter and his front feet in the air. 
 
 I was tired and hungry, so I put a post under the 
 horse's breast, left him standing in the air, and went 
 to dinner. 
 
 O'Toole asked me where the horse was, and I told 
 him I had left him below the house to rest. The old 
 man insisted on going to help me unload the wood after 
 we had dinner, and then he found the horse posed up 
 in the air. 
 
Work in a New Place. 71 
 
 "Jimniie," he said, "I didn't think you could be so 
 cruel to an old horse." 
 
 Perhaps it was a little cruel, but the old horse 
 never balked again. With horses it is sometimes 
 necessary to use heroic remedies, as it is with balky 
 men. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 Work in a New Place. 
 
 The following spring Mr. Glandell offered me 
 thirty dollars a month to work for him, and as O'Toole 
 could not afford to pay me that much, I made the 
 change, glad to have more money in my pocket, 
 About this time I was in the throes of another of those 
 youthful love affairs that come to all of us. The 
 young woman was at Mr. Quid's place, where Robert 
 worked, and I went to see her every Sunday night, as 
 the accepted calling night in the country. 
 
 Late one Sunday night in the early fall, when I 
 returned home I found Glandell waiting up for me, 
 which was very unusual, as he generally retired early, 
 
 "Did you cut grass for the horses to-day?" he 
 asked, meeting me at the gate. 
 
 "I wasn't hired to cut grass on Sunday," I replied 
 "and if you wait for me to cut it the horses will go 
 without." 
 
 "Well, if that's all you care about the horses," he 
 said, "you can get out of here.'* 
 
72 Work in a New Place. 
 
 Naturally that made me very angry, as I did about 
 as much work every week as could be crowded in, and 
 I figured that I should not be expected to do more than 
 the general run of chores on Sunday. I told him so 
 very plainly, and turned around and left for the Quid's 
 place. As a result I lost my pay for the whole sum- 
 mer, Glandell not having paid me at the end of each 
 month. Mr. Oulds gladly received me and asked me 
 to stay there until I found a new place. 
 
 I was not long idle, however, as I soon got a place 
 with Mr. Walker, a man in the same business as 
 Glandell, marketing. When I arrived at the market 
 the first morning, I took a stand next to that of Glan- 
 dell, and before the day was fairly started I had dis- 
 posed of all my load, m.ostly to old customers of Glan- 
 dell. Glandell was there himself that day, not having 
 found a man to take my place, and when I was ready 
 to start home, I noticed him loading up most of his 
 stuff to return home, having sold barely half of it. 
 
 When I got a short way down the street I heard 
 some one driving rapidly behind me. I looked around 
 and there was Glandell, coming at full speed. I 
 whipped up. but he had a better horse than I, and he 
 rapidly gained on me. Just before I reached the toll 
 gate, I heard a ffower pot sing by my head. I looked 
 around just in time to dodge another, and I decided it 
 was getting too warm to ride that way. I got down 
 in front of the dash-board, and kept the horse going as 
 fast as he could make it, which I must admit was not 
 half enough to suit me just then — a 2:30 horse was 
 what I needed. 
 
Work in a New Place. 73 
 
 As I passed through the toll gate on the run, the 
 gate keeper ran out and shut down the gate, and Glan- 
 dell could barely stop his horse in time to prevent 
 breaking the gate. The toll tender would not let him 
 through until I had gotten almost home, and thus 
 probably saved me a good trouncing, as Glandell was a 
 much larger man than I, and I had no hankering for a 
 trial of conclusions with him. 
 
 That evening Mr. Walker went to town and got 
 out a warrant for Glandell and he was arrested. He 
 sent for his brother to go on his bond, but as his broth- 
 er had no property, he was not accepted as a bonds- 
 man. Then Glandell sent for an old grocer with 
 whom he dealt and asked him to sign the bond. The 
 grocer asked how he happened to be arrested, and 
 Glandell told him. 
 
 "You will have to look elsewhere for a bondsman," 
 said the grocer after he had heard the story. "I 
 wouldn't bail you after you tried to kill that lad, for 
 you told me yourself not so very long ago that he was 
 the best boy you ever had to work for you." 
 
 As a result Glandell was left in jail all night and 
 part of the next day. Then he agreed to settle the 
 matter with me by paying me all my back wages — 
 which I was mighty glad to receive — and signed a bond 
 to keep the peace. 
 
 He never came to market again while I was there., 
 but sent his wife who was a pleasant little woman and 
 she had always been kind to me. So when I would 
 sell my daily load of stuff I used to turn in and help 
 Mrs. Glandell dispose of her stuff. We got to be 
 
74 Work in a New Place. 
 
 very good friends, but I don't suppose her belligerent 
 husband ever heard how often I prevented him losing 
 a good share of his market day profits. 
 
 While going to market I got well acquainted with 
 the New Market Fire Company lads, whose fire house 
 was close to the market house. Being a protestant 
 Irishman, I was somewhat of an Orangeman in those 
 days, though to-day neither religion or politics interests 
 me much so long as I can make a comfortable living 
 and keep my health I am satisfied with the way this 
 world is running and I am not going to bother with 
 the next for a long while yet, I hope. But one St. 
 Patrick's Day I decided to have a little sport at the 
 expense of the Irish. I made a paddy out of potatoes, 
 borrowed a ladder from the fire company and put the 
 paddy on top of the fish shed. Then I awaited devel- 
 opments. 
 
 Most of the women who' sold fish under the shed 
 were Irish Catholics. They soon saw the paddy, and 
 in about a minute all were gathered around the place 
 with their sleeves rolled up, as wrathy a lot of old 
 dames as it has ever been my pleasure to see. 
 
 They went to the fire house to get a ladder, but the 
 firemen would not allow them to have the ladderS; 
 telling them they were not to be taken from the build- 
 ing except in case of fire. 
 
 "If you set fire to the building we might take the 
 ladders out," said one of the men. But the women 
 seemed to think setting fire to the biulding a little too 
 serious, and the paddy stayed there all day long. 
 
Work in a New Place. 75 
 
 The fish Ibusiness was very poor that day, as too 
 much time was spent by the women cursing the boys 
 who had played the trick on them. As for myself, I 
 was very careful to keep out of range, as I would cer- 
 tainly have been accused of the trick if I had appeared 
 where they could get at me. 
 
 A man named Carroll who lived close to Mr. 
 Walker's kept slaves, and one day two of them robbed 
 the house and ran away. Carroll called out all the 
 neighbors and we followed the dogs in a genuine man- 
 hunt. Late that night the dogs located the runaways 
 in a tree. The blacks would not come down, so we 
 cut the tree and let them fall. We led the slaves back 
 to Carroll's farm, and he gave each of us five dollars re- 
 ward for their capture. 
 
 Finally I decided to come north. I never did like 
 to be around where there were slaves, as I thought it 
 cheapened labor, and as I had to work, I wanted to 
 work where it was considered the proper thing, rather 
 than a mere necessity to gain a livelihood. I had 
 heard of Pittsburg, and had been told it was going to 
 be a great city, so I made up my mind to leave Balti- 
 more. It was a long journey, but was well worth the 
 trouble, and I have never regretted the change. It 
 took five nights and five days to make the trip. There 
 being two of us, one would drive while the other slept, 
 and we made what was in those days called excellent 
 time. 
 
 It was in the fall of 1845 that I landed in the city 
 with $27 in my pocket, but as that was far better than 
 
76 The Pittsburg of 1845. 
 
 wJien I landed in Baltimore^ I still had reasons to re- 
 joice, poor as was my tinancial standing. 
 
 O- - 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 The Pittsburg of 1845. 
 
 In the year 1845, when I arrived in the city, Pitts- 
 burg was a town oi about 3,000 people, built along the 
 Allegheny and Monongahela rivers. The town did 
 not then extend above Market street and the balance of 
 the now prosperous and growing city was farmland 
 and wilderness. The stage station was across from 
 where Kleber's piano factory is now located, on Fifth 
 avenue, just above Market. A part of what is now 
 the Kleber building was the first large building above 
 Market street. It was built by A. A. Mason, as a dry 
 goods store, but it was so remote from the balance of 
 the city that the people would not go so far through 
 the mud, and Mason finally failed for want of custom- 
 ers. The place was afterward bought by George R. 
 White, who remodeled it and enlarged it and he used 
 it as a dry goods store. Meanwhile the town had 
 grown up to the store and Mr. White made money on 
 the deal. 
 
 All the streets and roads were closed with toll 
 gates in those days, and there was a toll gate on Fourth 
 street road, (now Fifth avenue) where the jail now 
 stands, and another on Penn avenue at Eleventh street, 
 where the canal crossed the street toward the river. 
 

 ftlli^illi 
 HJll-fl'PF 
 
 liilliKliflll I .»L V 
 
 THE OLD FULTON BELL FOUNDRY. 
 
 Corner of First Avenue and Chauncey Lane— *^ Andy Fulton/^ 
 proprietor, grandfather of Delinquent Tax Collector^ Andy Fulton. 
 He was a friend in need— hundreds of times to the author. 
 
The Pittsburg of 1845. 77 
 
 The resident part of the city was on Penn avenue, and 
 the wealthy portion of the population all lived on a 
 couple of blocks. There was no such wealth in 1845 
 as there is in Pittsburg now, but I doubt if there is 
 more happiness than in those days, when life was not 
 so strenous and extravagance was unknown. People 
 lived according to their means, and there was no effort 
 at great display. The great homes of that day would 
 not now be called extravagant for men on salary to- 
 day. 
 
 Where Union station now stands were two ceme- 
 teries. Catholics and Protestant, and out about where 
 Twenty-eight street now is was a brewery in what was 
 then considered far in the country. There were no 
 great manufacturing plants, the churches were small 
 compared with those of to-day, and as for a theater, 
 nothing was considered more remote. People had sim- 
 pler lives and simpler pleasures, and instead of the 
 drama and the opera were satisfied with the debating 
 society and the singing school for their evening amuse- 
 ments away from home. 
 
 Then, as now, iron was the chief industry of the 
 city, but it was then hardly a promise of what it has 
 become. There was an iron foundry located at what 
 is now the corner of Fifth avenue and Smithfield street, 
 owned by Billman & Garrison, Pennock's foundry on 
 the Allegheny river above the canal, and Knapp & 
 Totten's foundry above this, which was afterwards 
 turned into a factory for the manufacture of cannon. 
 James Marshall also had a foundry in the same neigh- 
 borhood, and Penny's foundry was on the Mononga- 
 
78 The Pittsburg of 1845. 
 
 hela river, just above the present location of the Balti- 
 more & Ohio depot. 
 
 There was also a prophesy of the coming of the 
 great glass industry of the city. The glass factories 
 were located along the Monongahela river. Wm. 
 Phillips' factory was located at the corner of what is 
 now Try and Second avenue, but was then known as 
 the Second street road. The Adams glass works was 
 located where the Baltimore & Ohio depot now stands, 
 and on the South Side were located Ihmsen & McKee's 
 factory and Wm. McKee & Bros.' factory. These 
 were small affairs compared with those of to-day, 
 but were then considered great evidence of the city's 
 wealth and prosperity. 
 
 There were also several rolling mills. There was 
 one on the Monongahela river above Tenth street., 
 where the Baltimore & Ohio railroad tracks now run, 
 another on the South Side, and one owned by James 
 Woods in the West End on the Ohio river. Wm. B. 
 Lyons' was at what is called Sligo, on the Mononga- 
 hela river, and Spang's was Pine creek. The Schoen- 
 berg mill was then located where it now stands, at 
 Sixteenth and Try streets, belovv^ Penn avenue. 
 
 The old Monongahela house was the great hotel of 
 the day. It was located where the present hotel now 
 stands, but was burned the same year in which I ar- 
 rived in the city. In front of the hotel was the only 
 piece of paved street in the town. All the balance was 
 the natural road, and in bad weather hauling was al- 
 most impossible because of the deep mud. 
 
The Pittsburg of 1845. 
 
 79 
 
 I was about i8 years old then, and have, it will 
 be seen, lived in Pittsburg— or at least had my home 
 here, though I have been away at times for a few 
 months— for 58 years. In that time I have watched 
 the city's growth from a village to one of the chief 
 cities of the world, and I am proud that I can say that 
 I have been a small factor in the city's growth. After 
 I became a contracting builder I had many contracts 
 for the building up of the city, and there are many 
 buildings now standing that I helped to erect long be- 
 fore the Civil War. So that even though my fortunes 
 have not kept pace with some of those who went into 
 the iron trade or became famous as bankers and finan- 
 ciers, I can at least feel assured that I have done my 
 small part, and in my own way I have prospered with 
 the prosperity of the city, and not in any way at the 
 expense of that prosperity. Rather, with every nail 
 driven by me or by men whom I employed added to 
 the growth of the city, and brought just that much 
 nearer the great and wonderful city of the present day. 
 And though I am now a man of near four score years 
 and the great majority of my friends of other days have 
 crossed the river, I am still active in my business and 
 hope for many more years in which to watch the home 
 of my mature choice grow larger and in prosperity and 
 fame. 
 
 I have many memories of the leading men of those 
 days and all were my friends. And as I see their 
 
80 A THal at Dry Goods Business. 
 
 children and grandchildren now the men of affairs, it 
 recalls some of the characteristics of their ancestors 
 who built the city on a foundation, perfect as the rock 
 of Gibraltar and as ever lasting. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 A Trial at Dry Goods Business. 
 
 Work was not as plentiful, nor pay as high, in 1845 
 as it is to-day. None of the trades which I had learned 
 in the West Indies were of any use to me m Pittsburg, 
 and I had to begin all over again at whatever came to 
 hand. I started out to hunt for work as soon as I ar- 
 rived and first visited the stores, as they were the most 
 prominent places visible to the eye. At last I got a 
 job as porter for George R. White's dry goods store. 
 The pay was only two dollars and a half a week, but I 
 could not be very particular about the work or pay, as 
 I must needs make a living. Mr. White wanted me to 
 board at the Farmers' Hotel, run by Mrs. Little, on 
 Ferry street, so that I could influence the farmers who 
 stopped there to come to the store to do their trading. 
 As a result it took all the money I sfot each week to 
 pay my board bill and I didn't see where I was coming 
 out much ahead by workinsr for that much. My 
 twenty-seven dollars soon dwindled down to seven, 
 and I saw that It was time somethlne was done, so I 
 went to Mr. White and told Mm I would have to have 
 more money or look for another fob. He said he could 
 
GEO, R, WHITE. 
 First friend in Pittsburg of tlie Author* A strong friend in his early 
 youth* He first employed him as an arrand boy in J 845. A friend who 
 never failed Mr. Owens as long as he lived. In death he is not forgotten. 
 
A Trial at Dry Goods Business. 81 
 
 not see how I could not get along, since other boys 
 could, but I told him other boys lived with their 
 parents, while I must pay all my own way and pay 
 board every week. He asked me how much more I 
 would have to have, and I told him if he paid my board 
 at the hotel and gave me the same wages I could get 
 along. 
 
 "Have you ever brought any trade from the hotel?" 
 he asked. 
 
 ''You'll have to ask the manager that question," I 
 told him. 
 
 So he called in the manager, Mr. Loy — who after- 
 ward became a partner with Mr. White — and Mr. Loy 
 told him I had brought a great many people to the 
 store from the hotel. Then Mr. White agreed to con- 
 tinue to pay me the same wages and pay my board at 
 the hotel. 
 
 I got along very well at the store. One of my 
 duties was to carry packages to the homes of custom.- 
 ers and another was occasionally to go out collecting. 
 One day Mr. White told me to go to James Stewart's 
 farm at Squirrel hill to collect a bill that had been 
 owing for a long time. I took the stage coach as he 
 directed me and asked the driver where to get off and 
 find the place. The driver gave me the wrong direc- 
 tion, and I walked nearly all day without finding the 
 place. Late in the afternoon I met a man who said he 
 thought Stewart lived down the river about five miles. 
 I was then near the present site of Carnegie and I was 
 soaked through, as it was raining and snowing. Still 
 I was not ready to give up, so I started again and it 
 
82 A TWal at Dry Goods Business. 
 
 proved in the right direction. I found Stewart's home 
 just at nightfall and he told me to tell Mr. White that 
 he was coming to town with a load of wheat the fol- 
 lowing day and would come in and pay the bill. 
 
 I asked Mr. Stewart for my supper, but he refused 
 to give it to me, though I offered to pay him for it. 
 There was nothing for me to do but walk back to the 
 city, hungry, wet and fatigued as I was, so I left the 
 place in anything but an enviable frame of mind. 
 
 It was late at night when I reached the hotel, but 
 Mrs. Little gave me a good supper, and I was glad to 
 get to bed. I was so tired out that I did not awake 
 until 9 o'clock the next morning. When I went to the 
 store Mr. White chided me for being late, but when I 
 explained my troubles of the day before that made it 
 all right. When I told him Stewart was coming in and 
 would pay the bill, Mr. White said : 
 
 "Stewart has been coming in with a load of wheat 
 for the last two years and has not arrived yet. If he 
 does not come here to-day I want you to take a horse 
 and ride down there and stay till you get the money." 
 
 As usual Stewart failed to put in an appearance as 
 he had promised, so the next day Mr. White told me 
 to ride out to the farm. When I reached the farm I tied 
 my horse and went and asked for Mr. Stewart. His 
 wife told me he was not at home and would not return 
 until evening. I saw I was in for a long stay and pre- 
 pared for a siege. I told the woman I would stay there 
 until the bill was paid. 
 
 Seeing a little stable near the house, I put the horse 
 in a stall and gave him some oats out of the bin. T 
 
r 
 
 STORE OF GEO. WHITE. 
 
 3JJ Market Street — "Where Mr. Owens "Worked as an Errand Boy — 
 J847-8. Mr. "White was a Life Long Friend of the Author. A True 
 Friend in Need. 
 
A Tlrial at Dry Goods Business. 83 
 
 went out of the stable for a few minutes, and when I 
 looked in again to see how the horse was getting along 
 the feed trough was empty. I thought the horse must 
 be a pretty fast eater, but I put more oats in the 
 trough. Then I went out of the stable and saw fresh 
 footprints. I quickly walked back and caught Stew- 
 art taking the oats from the trough. Then I had to 
 fight him away all the time till the horse had eaten all 
 his feed. 
 
 When the horse had finished the oats Stewart 
 started for the house, and I followed. We both went 
 into the house and sat down in the parlor. We had 
 been there some time when Mrs. Stewart came in. She 
 only stayed a few moments then went out, and soon 
 her husband followed her. I soon heard the dishes 
 rattling, and my appetite told me it must be dinner 
 time. I decided that if I was to get anything to eat 
 I would have to go after it, as they were not likely to 
 bring it to me. I walked out and picked up two pieces 
 of bread and began to eat. 
 
 "You are most mightly unmannerly," said Stew- 
 art. 
 
 "I don't propose to go hungry just because you 
 have not the manners to invite me to dinner," I replied. 
 
 When Stewart was through with his dinner he fol- 
 lowed me out of the house and we began to quarrel. 
 
 "Jim stop fighting with that boy," shouted his 
 wife. "You'll kill him next. Give him what money 
 there is in the house and let him go." 
 
 "I haven't any money to give him," said Stewart. 
 
84 A Trial at Dry Goods Business. 
 
 "I have some butter money in the house I will give 
 him," she replied, and she went into the house and 
 brought out $33. After Stewart had counted it three or 
 four times he handed it to me and asked for a receipt. 
 I told him I had a receipt for the whole bill in my 
 pocket, but I wouldn't give it to him till I got all the 
 money. 
 
 Stewart declared he would have me arrested for 
 getting money on false pretenses and started off, think- 
 ing to scare me, but it didn't and I stayed right there, 
 determined to get all that was coming to me. Stewart 
 did not come back until 9 o'clock that night, and he 
 found me still there. He had a bag full of pennies, 
 which he counted over till 11 o'clock. Then I had to 
 count them, and I found the full amount there : I ask- 
 ed him for the bag to carry the pennies. 
 
 "1 don't owe you the bag," he said, and would not 
 give it to me. I filled my pockets with the pennies, and 
 still had a great quantity of them left. So I tied up 
 part of them in my handkerchief and put the balance 
 in my hat. 
 
 Stewart would not help me on the horse, and I had 
 to lead him to a bank where I could get on him without 
 using my hands. Then I had to allow the horse to walk 
 all the way home for fear of spilling the pennies from 
 my hat. 
 
 It was well for me that the clerks were taking 
 stock and were working late that night, for it was 
 long after midnight when I rode up to the store. I 
 called for Mr. Loy, and he came to the door and saw 
 me sitting on his horse, bare headed and with my hat 
 
FARMERS HOTEL. 
 
 Fourth Avenue and Ferry Street. The x shows the room where the late 
 Hon. Edwin M. Stanton, (Secretary of "War under Lincoln )t and Mr» Owens 
 roomed— J847-8. Mr. Stanton, at that time, was studying law with Shaler 
 and Umstad, and Mr. Owens was errand boy at Geo. "Whitens store, SJJ Mar- 
 ket Street. 
 
A Trial at Dry Goods Business. 85 
 
 full of pennies. He had a good laugh at my expense, 
 but finally relieved me of my burden, and I rode the 
 horse to the stable and went home to bed. 
 
 The next morning when I was brushing the shelves 
 Stewart came in and walked past me without looking. 
 He asked for Mr. White and was shown into the office. 
 After a while Mr. White sent for me and I went into the 
 office. Mr. White pulled a chair up next to him and I 
 sat down. 
 
 "Jimniie, Mr. Stewart tells me you acted very 
 badly at his house yesterday," he said. 
 
 "If you are going to side with that old fool, I'll 
 quit right now," I said getting mad at the first men- 
 tion of the affair. 
 
 "Don't be so fast with your temper," he said. 
 "Tell me everything that happened." 
 
 So I told him all about it, and Mr. Loy came in and 
 told him. how I arrived with my hat full of pennies and 
 that ended the affair with Mr. Jimmie Stewart. Mr. 
 White told Mr. Loy to give me the $33 I got in bills as 
 a present, and to take me down to a tailor's shop and 
 get me a suit of clothes oflf the best piece of goods in 
 stock. 
 
 As I got almost half of the amount of the bill I 
 considered that I was doing pretty well for myself 
 as a collector for the store, and felt pretty well repaid 
 for the trouble Stewart had given me. 
 
86 An Evening with Spiritualism. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 An Evening With Spiritualism. 
 
 One summer evening, Jimmie White, son of the 
 proprietor of the store where I virorked, asked me td 
 go with him to a spiritualistic seance. I got permis- 
 sion from the manager, and we started. 
 
 The spirits were said to be corraled at the home of 
 Charles Taylor at the corner of Fourth street and 
 Penn avnue. We went and rapped at the door and 
 Taylor came to the door. 
 
 "We want to see Mrs. Coe," said Jimmie. 
 
 "All right come in," said Taylor, and he ushered 
 us into the parlor. 
 
 After giving us chairs, he went out and soon came 
 back with a large plate of fruit and told us to help our- 
 selves. We soon had the fruit looking scarce, and were 
 just putting on the finishing touches when Mrs. Coe's 
 husband came in. Mrs. Coe was from Boston and she 
 was creating quite a furror in Pittsburg with her read- 
 ings and warnings from the spirit world, and every- 
 body was anxious to see her in action. 
 
 Jimmie told Mr. Coe what we wanted and he went 
 out to see his wife. In a few moments he returned 
 and said she had had one seance during the early even- 
 ing, and preferred to not disturb the spirits again so 
 soon, as it was very fatigueing for them to be called on 
 so often to rap and rattle around heavy tables. 
 
 Jimmie and I were both unwilling to overwork 
 the gfhosts, so we made our adieus and left. The house 
 
An Evening with Spiritualism. 87 
 
 was built high and with a long pair of steps leading to 
 the street. I ran down the steps, then looked around 
 and saw Jimmie come sliding down the bannister 
 "belly-flopper." We both began to giggle, and the peo- 
 ple in the house heard us, and came running to the 
 door. 
 
 **Cbme right back here," shouted Taylor. "You 
 can't laugh at us. We'll prove to you that there are 
 spirits." 
 
 "We weren't laughing at you," declared Jimmie. 
 
 "Yes you were," said Taylor, "and you have to 
 come in and let us prove to you that the spirits do com- 
 municate with us." 
 
 "All right, let's go back," I said. I had started 
 out to see the spirits and I wanted to get what I went 
 after. 
 
 When we got into the house we were ushered into 
 the dining room where we found forty persons sitting 
 around the long dining room table. They were having 
 a seance, and evidently did not want us in, but in- 
 vited us rather than have us go away as scoffers. Mrs. 
 Coe was seated at the head of the table. They made 
 room for Jimmie and I, but did not allow us to sit 
 together. I was placed between Bob Wilson and a 
 woman through whom the spirits were telling Bob all 
 about his father and mother in heaven. The subject 
 paid no attention to anything around the room, and 
 Mrs. Coe said she had no physical feeling for any one 
 but her. 
 
 After Wilson's parents had told him all they knew 
 about heaven, Mrs. Coe said she would cause the 
 
88 An Evening witli Spiritualism. 
 
 spirits to rap three times on the table to tell her that 
 all the woman had said was true. Everything was 
 quiet, and I got down on the floor to see what the 
 spirits who were to do the rapping looked like. 
 
 **You must all sit up and join hands," said Mrs. 
 Coe. 
 
 As I was between Wilson and the subject, I took 
 hold of his hand on one side, and the limp and ap- 
 parently lifeless hand of the subject on the other. I 
 wanted to see if she were as dead to physical feeling 
 as Mrs. Coe said she was, so I got a good grip on her 
 hand, and gave it a squeeze that almost broke the 
 bones. She was out of her trance in an instant, let 
 out a yell you could hear in the next block and 
 jumped so high I thought her head would hit the ceil- 
 ing. 
 
 That ended the attempts at table rapping, but 
 Mrs. Coe, though she was evidently much annoyed 
 by the incident, told us to sit back and she would 
 have the spirits walk the table along the room. I 
 kept my eyes on the table, but it never moved. I 
 guess the spirits were under the table and were afraid 
 to get active for fear some one would see them. 
 
 ''There is a devil in the party," at last Mrs. Ceo 
 declared, "and the spirits will not come out." 
 
 "Yes and Jimmie Owens is the devil," shouted 
 Bob Wilson. 
 
 By common consent I was voted the devil, and 
 the seance broke up right there. 
 
 Mrs, Coe remained in Pittsburg some tim.e after 
 that, but Jimmie White and I were never allowed to 
 
I Meet More Home Friends. 89 
 
 attend a seance. Mrs. Coe convinced her followers 
 that I was possessed of a devil, and Charley Taylor 
 never would have anything to do with me after that. 
 If he were coming the street and saw me, he would 
 cross the road in order not to meet me. 
 
 -O- 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 I Meet More Home Friends. 
 
 For six months I was working for Mr. White, 
 and almost every day I was sent to the dress making 
 establishment of Mrs. Scott and Mrs. Sands with pack- 
 ages. They always knew me as Jimmie, and always 
 treated me as a welcome caller — perhaps because I 
 was always prompt with goods they needed. One 
 morning when I carried in a package it was bitterly 
 cold and Mrs. Scott, seeing that my hands were red 
 from the cold, stirred up the fire. 
 
 "Come over here and sit by the fire and get warm^ 
 Jimmie," she said. "You are almost frozen. 
 
 Then she sat down by me and we talked about 
 things in general. Though I was i8 years old, I was 
 small for my age, and people seemed to still consider 
 me a little boy. 
 
 "Where were you born, Jimmie?" Mrs. Scott 
 finally asked me. 
 
 "County Derry, Ireland," I replied. 
 
 "Why, that is where I was born," she exclaimed. 
 
90 I Meet More Home Friends. 
 
 "We ought to be old friends. What is your family 
 name ?" 
 
 "Owens." 
 
 "Do your people still live in County Derry?" 
 
 "No, they moved to County Entrim, then to Bel- 
 fast." 
 
 Mrs. Scott looked at me quisically for a moment, 
 then she said: 
 
 "Jimmie, you are my own sister's son." 
 
 Then she asked me all sorts of questions, to prove 
 that she was right, asked me if I were the boy that ran 
 away, and when I said I was, she told me they all 
 thought I had been lost at sea as they had never heard 
 from me. She said she had not heard from my mother 
 since she came to America, and then I told her the 
 whole story of finding my mother and brother Mat- 
 thew in Jamaica, and of the death of my sister and 
 mother there. 
 
 "You have another aunt in the next room, Jim- 
 mie," she said and she called Mrs. Sands in to see the 
 lost boy of her sister. Neither could believe at first 
 that I was Irish, the climate of Jamaica having made 
 me as yellow as a tanney, but after a few questions 
 they were convinced that I was really the runaway 
 boy from Belfast. 
 
 And the two aunts were not all. I learned that 
 I had an uncle working in Mitchell's foundry, and that 
 my sister, married and with four children around the 
 hearthstone, was living on Penn avenue. 
 
 That night there was a family reunion. We all 
 got together and told over again the story of the twelve 
 
I Meet More Home Friends. 91 
 
 years in which we were parted. It was a happy 
 evening, and was almost morning when we parted for 
 the night. But there were many such evenings, and 
 we never tired of listening to our series of adventures. 
 
 Soon I went to live with my sister, and remained 
 there for several months, but one day we quarreled 
 about a girl I thought pretty well of, and I left and 
 went to live at Calhoun's on Fourth street. I had not 
 been at Calhoun's very long until I was taken ill. Dr. 
 Irwin was called in, but he did not seem to do me any 
 good, and after a few days, in which I got worse in- 
 stead of better, I asked them to send for some other 
 doctor. So they called in Dr. Dickson, of Allegheny. 
 Every one was very kind to me while I was sick, and 
 I was not allowed to want for anything. When I 
 got better I went to the store and Mr. White gave me 
 $ioo and told me to pay my doctor bills. 
 
 I first called on Dr. Irwin and asked him for his 
 bill. 
 
 "You owe me $75," he said after looking over his 
 books. 
 
 "I'll give you $25, notwithstanding you gave me 
 the wrong medicine and nearly killed me," I replied, 
 
 "Seventy-five or nothing," he said. 
 
 "All right, then, it's nothing," I replied, getting 
 up to go. 
 
 That brought him down to a $25 basis, and we set- 
 tled. I got a receipt in full, and left him. 
 
 Then I went to see Dr. Dickson 
 
 "I have no one of your name on my books," he 
 told me. 
 
92 I Meet More Home Friends. 
 
 "Don't you remember the boy you treated at Cal- 
 houn's?" I asked him. 
 
 "Oh, yes, I remember you/' he replied. "But 
 you are an orphan boy, and I never charge anything 
 for attending such lads." 
 
 I told him I had paid Dr. Irwin $25, and wanted 
 to give him at least as much, but he would not take it. 
 
 So I took the $75 back to Mr. White, but he told 
 me to keep it to buy myself some clothes. 
 
 After I got able to be around town, though still 
 not able to work, my sister, who had nursed me all the 
 time I was sick, asked me to come back to live with 
 her, which I did. As soon as I got strong enough 
 to go to work again I decided to use the $75 to bring 
 Matthew to Pittsburg, so I went to Baltimore and 
 brought him back with me and got him a place to learn 
 the boiler making trade with Mr. Barnhill. We both 
 boarded with my sister. 
 
 When Matthew arrived we had another little fam- 
 ily reunion, my two aunts and my uncle coming to 
 sister's house to see what their other nephew had 
 grown to look like. Mrs. Scott and Mrs. Sands 
 would never tire of hearing the story of our wander- 
 ings in the West Indies. 
 
 Mrs. Scott was the mother of James B. Scott, now 
 living in Pittsburg, and Mrs. Sands, the mother of the 
 Rev. John Sands, of Philadelphia. 
 
Another Chapter About Ghosts. 93 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 Another Chapter About Ghosts. 
 
 While Matthew was working for Mr. Barnhill at 
 the boiler shop, we used to have some great times. 
 Mr. Barnhill was very friendly with all the lads in the 
 neighborhood, and he allowed us to use the yards and 
 office for a play ground. We held debating society 
 in the office, and we had some hot debates on the sub- 
 jects, "Resolved that a gun is of more use to man than 
 a dog," and "Resolved, that pusuit is a greater pleas- 
 ure than possession." All those old standbys that I 
 believe are worked in the country debating societies to 
 this day were threshed out by our crowd, and we de- 
 bated them over and over again. 
 
 But we sometimes tired of our literary efforts and 
 spent the evening in play in the yards. We also had 
 to listen to many tales of adventure told us by the 
 nightwatchman, an Englishman who was a great brag- 
 gart. To hear him tell it, he had been in all the great 
 battles his country had fought for a century, and he 
 had more to do with the defeat of Napoleon than had 
 the Iron Duke himself. He talked so much and gave 
 such vivid descriptions of things he had done in battle 
 that we decided to see how he liked ghosts. A man 
 who had braved the storm of shot and shell of the 
 French army under Napoleon should certainly not fear 
 any such things as a mere ghost, but we had our doubts 
 about all this valor he told us about. 
 
 By telling a few ghost stories we discovered that 
 the old fellow was a thorough believer in this preter- 
 
94 Another Cliapter About Ghosts. 
 
 natural. We kept up the ghost stories until he was 
 afraid to go out after dark unless he carried a gun — as 
 if mere leaden bullets would harm spirits. 
 
 One night I got into a boiler with a hammer, and 
 the other boys went to the office and told ghost stories 
 to the old fellow. Pretty soon he had to make his 
 rounds to see that everything was safe, and he should- 
 ered his old shotgun and left the office. The boys al- 
 lowed him to get a good start, then same out and hid 
 near where I was located inside the boiler. 
 
 Soon the old fellow came along, whistling to keep 
 up his courage, and when he got just opposite my boil- 
 er, I gave it one blow with the hammer that made a 
 noise like the crack of doom. I followed it up with 
 a rattling sound and then began to groan as though I 
 were in mortal agony. The frightened Englishman 
 let out a yell that could be heard a mile and ran out of 
 the yard as fast as his legs could carry him. 
 
 When I got around to the office he was telling the 
 boys that there was a ghost in the yard. He had not 
 only heard it pounding on a boiler, but had seen it. 
 
 "It had a head like a calf," he declared, "and hoofs 
 and a tail, but hands just like a human being. And 
 the hammer it was using was red hot. It must have 
 been hammering at the soul of some old boiler maker 
 who used to work here and haunts the place, for the 
 groans I heard were horrible." 
 
 The old man would not venture out of the office 
 again that night, and he declared he would not go out 
 
HON. EDWIN M. STANTON, 
 Roommate of the Author in J 847-8. 
 
Two Men Who Became Famous 95 
 
 into the yard after dark again if they would give him 
 the shop. It worried him so much that he hunted up 
 another place to work and left the boiler shop. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 Two Men Who Became Famous. 
 
 In the early days in Pittsburg I became friends 
 with men then little more than boys, whose names 
 were afterwards written high on the scroll of fame in 
 their country's history. One of them was Edwin M. 
 Stanton, Secretary of War in President Lincoln's cab- 
 inet, and the other was James G. Blaine, "the Plumed 
 Knight." 
 
 It was while I was boarding at Mrs. Little's 
 Farmers' Hotel that I met Stanton. He had come to 
 Pittsburg to study law in the office of Shaler & Ump- 
 stider, a firm of attorneys famous all over the west. 
 That was in 1846. One evening Mrs. Little asked me 
 if I objected to sharing my room with a young man 
 from Ohio, who desired to board at the house. I told 
 her that it depended very much on the man. 
 
 "He's a very fine young man, a gentleman," she 
 said. "He has come here to study law." 
 
 "I want to see him first," I replied, and she pointed 
 out to me a quiet young fellow who was sitting at the 
 supper table. 
 
 "All right, put him in." I told her, and a little later 
 she introduced him to me as Mr. Stanton. 
 
96 Two Men Who Became Famous 
 
 I found him very pleasant, though quiet, and not 
 the wild sort of fellow that I was inclined to be, looking 
 always for the fun in the world. But we got along 
 famously, and for months, till I went to live with my 
 sister, we occupied the same room and the same bed. 
 He was very ambitious to make a good lawyer of him- 
 self, and he studied hard day and night. Still, he 
 would find time to talk with me, and he always seemed 
 ready to listen to tales I had to tell of India, Jamaica,. 
 Cuba and Ireland. The story of my season with the 
 circus and the trained goat and pig seemed to amuse 
 him most. But mostly I would spend my evenings 
 out with the boys of my acquaintance, and he would 
 be at work on his books. It was seldom that we 
 could get him out on any of our harum-scarum expe- 
 ditions, but when he did, he was as lively as the best. 
 
 I watched the career of Stanton with great pleas- 
 ure, knowing him as I did, and when he was in Wash- 
 ington during the trying times of the Civil War, the 
 administration had no more loyal supporter in the 
 country than this same old room m.ate of Edwin M. 
 Stanton. The memory of his friendship, short though 
 it was, is one of the brightest spots in my life, though 
 perhaps I did not then realize what a great mind I was 
 given the opportunity to know. 
 
 My meeting with Mr. Blaine was shortly after I 
 met Stanton, and while I was rooming with him. It 
 was while I was working in White's dry goods store. 
 One day Mr. Loy gave me a package of blankets to 
 deliver to the home of the Rev. Mr. Bryan, a Cumber- 
 land Presbyterian minister living on Second avenue. 
 
HON. JAMES G. BLAINE, 
 Friend of the Attthor. 
 
Two Men Who Became Famous 97 
 
 I took up a large bundle so that Mrs. Bryan could pick 
 out the ones she wanted. 
 
 While we were examining the blankets in the back 
 parlor a gentleman came to the door and asked for Mr. 
 Bryan. In a few moments the minister returned and 
 said a young man named James Blaine was there to be 
 married, and he asked me to go over and bring David 
 and Journal Bell to act as witnesses. I went for the 
 witnesses while Mr. Blaine went to the Monongahela 
 House for his bride. I soon returned with David 
 Bell, but Journal could not be found, so as three wit- 
 nesses were necessary they asked me to act as one of 
 them. So I remained for the wedding, and after the 
 ceremony was performed and the certificate of marriage 
 signed, Mr. Blaine invited us all to go with them to the 
 Monongahela House for a wedding supper. 
 
 I took the blankets that were not wanted back to 
 the store, and was then given permission to go to the 
 supper. It was a jolly party. Mr. Bryan and Mr. 
 Blaine vying with each other in witty sallies. I was 
 mostly a listener, and in fact, all of us were too well 
 pleased to hear the brilliant talk of the minister and 
 the young bridegroom to offer much in the way of con- 
 versation ourselves. We spent a most pleasant and 
 happy evening, and the following day Mr. Blaine and 
 his bride, after a call at the home of the minister, went 
 to their home. 
 
 Years after, when Mr. Blaine was a candidate for 
 President, the story was started that he was a Catholic, 
 but I knew better, and knew better than anyone living 
 the story of his marriage by a Cumberland Presbyter- 
 
98 I Learn Several Trades. 
 
 ian minister. He had been a member of the Catholic 
 church he would have been married by a priest, instead 
 of coming to Mr. Bryan. I was a strong supporter of 
 Mr. Blaine for the Presidency, and everywhere I went 
 I was careful to circulate the story of the wedding at 
 the home of the Rev. Mr. Bryan, as an offset to the 
 story that Blaine was a Catholic. 
 
 I wanted to see Mr. Blaine elected President, be- 
 cause I considered him one of the greatest men in the 
 country, and still cherish the memory of the young 
 man and bride, at whose wedding supper I was a guest 
 so many years ago. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 I Learn Several Trades. 
 
 After several years at White's store my health 
 broke down, so that the lightest work was a burden to 
 me. I didn't like to give it up, as I had always been 
 well treated there and the surroundings were pleasant. 
 I had also made myself more valuable to the firm, and 
 was getting much better pay than when I started in, 
 so that I was able to have a very good time and still 
 save a little money. But Mr. White recognized the 
 condition of my health, and one day he came to me and 
 talked about it. 
 
 **You are a good boy in the store, Jimmie," he 
 said, "but I am afraid the work does not agree with 
 you. What sort of a trade would you like to learn? 
 
409 SECOND AVENUE, PITTSBURG. PA. 
 
 The House Where the Late James G, Blaine was Married* 
 Mr, Owens was a Witness to the Ceremony. 
 
I Learn Several Trades. 99 
 
 It seems to me that you require something with more 
 physical exertion and less confinement indoors." 
 
 I agreed with him, and told him I thought I would 
 like to be a plasterer. He said he would try to arrange 
 the matter, and a few days later he and my uncle, 
 John Scott, bound me out to James Armstrong for 
 three years. 
 
 At the end of two years Armstrong failed, and 
 that released me. Meanwhile I had learned consid- 
 erable about the business, and decided to try my hand 
 at it on my own hook. Palmer & McCasky were the 
 proprietors ot a paper store, and they were very friend- 
 ly towards me. So that whenever they knew of any 
 work they threw it my way. One of the first jobs 
 they got me was the stucco work on a new Homeo- 
 pathic hospital near Cleveland. I took some men 
 with me from Pittsburg. We boarded at the Union 
 Hotel, and one night a few weeks later, after we had 
 become acquainted and were going around quite a bit, 
 we went to a dance, and when we returned to the 
 hotel early in the morning, we found only ashes, as it 
 had burned down during the night. What had been 
 saved out of the fire was taken to the Marine Hospital, 
 and we at once started for the hospital to see if any- 
 thing belonging to us had been saved. On the way 
 we met a man wearing my overcoat. 
 
 "Hold up, there, man, you've got on my coat," I 
 shouted to him as he seemed anxious to get away 
 without passing the time of day to us. 
 
 "Your coat, nothing," he replied," and when I in- 
 sisted he threatened to thrash me. I told him that I 
 
 a.ofC. 
 
100 I Learn Several Trades. 
 
 could prove the coat was mine, because there was $35 
 in bills in the inside pocket. The man with me 
 promised to stand by me, and we waded in and took the 
 coat off his back. Then I put it on, and reaching into 
 the inside pocket I pulled out my little roll of bills, 
 thus proving my property, and the fellow made off, 
 glad to escape arrest. 
 
 When the trustees of the Homeopathic Hospital 
 learned of the fire they told me to come to them if I 
 needed any money, but luckily I was able to get along 
 without accepting their oft'er of assistance. 
 
 After finishing the work at the hospital I plastered 
 the Forest City House, and then as there was no more 
 work for me there I returned to Pittsburg. Finding 
 plastering slack, I again bound myself out to learn a 
 trade, this time working for John Phillips, to learn 
 bricklaying. I intended to learn as much about 
 building trades as possible, and then go west. I had 
 only been v/ith Mr. Phillips about a year when he went 
 into the iron business and let us all off. 
 
 Stoker work was then paying very good wages, 
 and I bound myself out to Bassett, Blythe & Morgan- 
 roth to learn that trade. I did not stay with them 
 very long, and when I left them I formed a partner- 
 ship with a man named Frazier, to do contracting in 
 building. Frazier died soon after we went together, 
 and I bought his share of the business from his estate 
 and then set up for myself. That was practically the 
 real beginning of my business career. From that 
 
Joe Barker's Campaign. 101 
 
 time on, for more than forty years I have been engaged 
 in building work, and the city is dotted with evidences 
 of my industry. 
 
 O^ 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 Joe Barker's Campaign. 
 
 Politics was as strenuous before the war as to-day. 
 Everybody seemed interested in the result of every 
 election, and there was never the great mass of people 
 so disinterested as not to vote, as is the case to-day. 
 Suffrage is a God given right, and every man then 
 realized that it was his duty, not only to deposit his 
 ballot on election day, but to work for the man he 
 thought would best fill the office for which he was a 
 candidate. 
 
 A-long in the early Fifties, Joe Barker was a unique 
 character in Pittsburg. Some said he was crazy, 
 others said he was only a crank who wanted to make a 
 living on the credulous people, and his main point was 
 to escape hard work. 
 
 Joe's chief hobby was his hatted for the Catholics. 
 Wherever he could draw a crowd he would harrangue 
 the people on his favorite topic. His chief lieutenant 
 was a Presbyterian preacher named Kirtland who had 
 been silenced by the church, but the silencing of the 
 church had little effect on his vocal organs. Joe would 
 make the speeches and then call on Kirtland to prove 
 all he said. 
 
102 Joe Barker's Campaign. 
 
 When the boys of the town would see Joe and 
 Kirtland coming along Liberty avenue they would fol- 
 low, shouting and cheering, and soon Joe would reach 
 the court house or cathedral, and mounting the steps 
 would make a speech, and at the end of each telling 
 point would shout, 
 
 ''That's true, isn't it Kirtland?" 
 
 "Every word of it," Kirtland would reply, ''and I 
 have the papers here to prove it." 
 
 Then Kirtland or Joe would take a paper from a 
 bundle they always carried, but when any of the boys 
 would look over the paper they would find only some 
 old publication with no reference whatever to the point 
 Joe wanted to make. 
 
 Joe became more and more of a general nuisance, 
 until finally the Catholics had him arrested for speak- 
 ing from the Cathedral steps. The judge sent him to 
 jail for thirty days. When he got out, he was more 
 reckless than ever, and also more noisy, so he was 
 again arrested and this time the judge sent him up for 
 nine months. 
 
 While Joe was in for his second term, the spring 
 campaign of 185 1 opened, and some one nominated Joe 
 for Mayor. It might have been intended for a joke, 
 and it may have been in all seriousness, but the young 
 fellows of the city took it as a fine joke, and they 
 started out electioneering for Joe with all their enthu- 
 siasm. The idea seemed to strike everybody, and 
 hard as the opposition could work, they could not over- 
 come the boom of Joe Barker, and he was elected by a 
 large majority, 
 
Joe Barker's Campaign. 103 
 
 It was lo o'clock at night when the returns had 
 all been counted and it was assured that the next 
 Mayor of the city was then languishing in durance vile. 
 The young fellows of the city were enthusiastic over 
 their victory and went marching up and down the 
 streets. Finally it occurred to them that Joe would 
 enjoy being in on the jollifycation, so the crowd head- 
 ed for the jail on the run. The leader demanded the 
 prisoner, and the Sheriff refused to deliver him. Then 
 we secured heavy pieces of wood and started to break 
 down the jail door. 
 
 The Sheriff, seeing that we were in earnest, open- 
 ed the door, and Joe was brought out. Some of the 
 fellows raised him up on their shoulders and the tri- 
 umphant procession started for the Mayor's office, then 
 located on Third avenue. 
 
 We found Mayor Guthrie sitting in his office, so 
 we gathered him up in our arms and soon had him sit- 
 ting on the curb outside, while Joe occupied the official 
 chair. All that night we kept Joe there, listening to 
 his speeches and cheering him, but in the morning the 
 court informed us that he could not become Mayor, 
 even though he were legally elected, until Mayor Guth- 
 rie's time expired, which would be two months later. 
 So we allowed Mayor Guthrie to return to his office, 
 and Joe went back to his preaching, the court signing 
 an order for his legal release from jail. 
 
 When Mayor Guthrie's term expired, Barker was 
 inaugurated with all the enthusiasm we young fellows 
 could muster, and his term of office started out with 
 every promise of success, and though he spent his 
 
104 Joe Barker's Campaign. 
 
 whole time at his official duties, and left off his preach- 
 ing most of the time, still he was ever ready to make 
 a speech. But his official acts were not such as to 
 commend him to the voters a second time, and when 
 he ran for Mayor again he was beaten by almost as 
 large a vote as his majority at the first election. 
 
 At that time it was one of the duties of the Mayor 
 to look after the weights and measures at the market. 
 Joe always did this himself, accompanied by two of- 
 ficers. One day when in the market Barker came to a 
 woman who had twenty-nine pounds of butter in her 
 basket in pound prints. He weighed each one of them 
 and found each a trifle light, probably caused by the 
 evaporation of water after the butter had been first 
 weighed the night before. Just as he was weighing 
 his twenty-ninth print the woman picked up the last 
 one and struck him in the face with it, saying, "Take 
 it all." 
 
 ''That is good enough for the poor," said Joe, never 
 paying any attention to the woman, "pick it up men." 
 
 For the first three months Joe was a pretty good 
 ]Mayor, but after that he got down on every one in the 
 city, apparently, and every one else seemed to be just 
 as much down on him. He fought with the Council- 
 men on every subject and denounced them as rogues 
 and thieves, and finally had them all arrested on 
 charges of misusing the public funds. Nothing ever 
 came of this, however. 
 
Elizabetli Parkhill. 105 
 
 Toward the last of Joe's term as Mayor he had 
 scarcely a friend in the city, and nearly everybody 
 seemed glad when his time was up and a reasonable 
 Mayor took his place. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 Elizabeth Parkhill. 
 
 In the spring of 1852, there arrived in this coun- 
 try a young Irish girl of rare education for a woman in 
 those days. She was a typical Irish lassie, and after 
 we became acquainted our mutual interest in the little 
 Green Isle caused us to be much together. She was a 
 niece of Mrs. Maxwell, who had brought her to Amer- 
 ica. After her arrival here, Elizabeth boarded at the 
 same home with me, and she worked in Dr. Avery's 
 drug store. Naturally we became great friends, and 
 much of our leisure time was spent together. We al- 
 ways went to the lyceum meetings and singing schools 
 together, and though I could not do' much in the music- 
 al line, her voice always made up for any deficiency in 
 mine. 
 
 One night we went to a singing society in a church 
 in Oak alley. My brother was also there with his 
 "best girl." High hats were then the proper thing 
 and both Matthew and I were diked out in the latest 
 fashion for young dandies. If the word had been 
 invented then, I suppose we would have been called 
 dudes. The girls sat in the class, and we boys, who 
 
106 Elizabeth Parkhill. 
 
 could not sing, sat on the opposite side of the pulpit. 
 While the singing was progressing, a number of men 
 from the Napkin English House came in and sat down 
 behind us. Among them was Andy Simms, a pretty 
 tough customenrs who had served a couple of terms in 
 the penitentiary. They were all pretty well loaded with 
 tamarac, and were spoiling for trouble. They soon 
 began tapping our high hats as an evidence of their 
 disapproval of that sort of headgear. I got up, moved 
 the hats to the pew next to the pulpit and sat down 
 next to them. 
 
 I had only been sitting there a few moments when 
 I looked around just in time to see Simms reach around 
 another fellow and hit Matthew on the head. As 
 Matthew had a felon on his finger and was unable to 
 defend himself properly, I decided that it was my duty 
 to rush to the rescue. I ran up to Simms, and he tried 
 to rise, but before he could do so I shoved my hand 
 under his chin and pushed him up against the wall. He 
 happened to be right in front of the door, and when I 
 began giving him all that was coming to him in the 
 way of a trouncing, the door broke and he tumbled out 
 into the vestibule. As he went down I landed on top 
 of him with my high heeled boots and gave him a 
 severe beating, leaving him cut and bleeding on the 
 floor. 
 
 When I got back into the church I found that the 
 row had broken up the meeting and every one had run 
 out of the front door, fearing the engine boys would 
 come back in force and clean things out from the front 
 to the pulpit. 
 
Elizabeth Parkhill. 107 
 
 Not finding Elizabeth in the church, I decided she 
 had deserted me, and I declared in my wrath if she 
 was afraid to stand by me in my trouble, I would never 
 go to see her again. But when I came out of the door 
 there she stood waiting for me. 
 
 "I was just going home alone," I told her. "I 
 thought you had deserted me." 
 
 "Oh, I wasn't afraid but that you'd come out all 
 right," she said. "You seem to forget that T was 
 brought up in Ireland, where one expects to see little 
 things of that sort occasionally. And you can al- 
 ways depend upon it, I'll stand by you when the wind 
 is blowing." 
 
 And she always did. That night I learned how 
 much I really loved her, but I could not screw up my 
 courage to tell her. But it was not long after that 
 that I did tell her, and her answer made me the hap- 
 piest man in Pittsburg. 
 
 When our engagement was announced, her friends 
 wondered at her choice of the rough Irish lad, when she 
 could have had her pick of the finest lads of the city. 
 But I don't think either of us lived to regret our choice. 
 We were married on May 7, 1854, and then began the 
 happiest epoch of my eventful life. I was devoted 
 to my home, and my greatest sorrow was that so much 
 of my time was necessarily spent away from it. But it 
 was necessary to attend to business, and much of my 
 work called me away from the city for months at a 
 time to places where I could not take Elizabeth. 
 
 And then came the baby. We were as proud as 
 young married folks usually are, and my wife lavished 
 
108 Smallpox Appears. 
 
 the full affection of her great Irish heart upon it. She 
 always kept it the neatest and prettiest youngster in 
 the city. People passing would stop to watch the 
 little golden-haired baby, and when it began to creep 
 around the hall way, they would stop and pick it up 
 and love it as though it were their own. One Sunday, 
 when the baby was in the hall in the front of the house, 
 an old colored mammy came along, and my wife, who 
 was in the back part of the house was frightened most 
 to death to see the woman pick up the child. With 
 a scream she ran out, only to find that the old woman 
 was not trying to kidnap the child, but only wanted to 
 show her love. 
 
 When the baby grew a little older I built a balcony 
 back of the house. The colored people had a church 
 back in the alley, and on Sundays when they would be- 
 gin to sing their old-fashioned melodies, the little girl 
 would take hold of me and lead me back to hear the 
 singing. There she would sit in a little chair, with 
 her head cocked to one side, listening as long as the 
 music lasted. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 Smallpox Appears. 
 
 I had only been married a few months when my 
 wife was stricken with smallpox, which was prevalent 
 in the city at the time. I called Dr. Halleck to wait 
 upon her, and he put a sort of paste on her to keep the 
 
Smallpox Appears. 109 
 
 air out of the sores. This was so irritating that I 
 had to tie her hands to the bed to keep her from 
 scratching herself. When he came the second day to 
 put the paste on her, I would not let him do it. 
 
 "What do you know about medicine?" he demand- 
 ed of me. 
 
 "I don't know very much, perhaps," I replied, "but 
 I do know that that stuff is driving my wife crazy, and 
 killing her by degrees." 
 
 So I paid the doctor off and sent him away. He 
 said if she died he would not be responsible, and I told 
 him I had a notion to have him arrested for trying to 
 kill her. 
 
 As soon as the doctor was gone, I went to Francis 
 Bailey's drug store and asked him for two bottles of 
 the finest olive oil he had. 
 
 "What do you want the oil for?" he asked me. 
 
 "My wife has smallpox," I told him, "and I want to 
 bathe her." 
 
 "Take the oil and go," he said handing it out and 
 getting away from me. "You need not wait to pay 
 for it." 
 
 That suited me very well, as I had no great surplus 
 of money about that time. When I got home, I 
 bathed my wife with the oil, and she felt so refreshed 
 that she slept for four hours, and from that time began 
 to get better, though she was ill for weeks, and I had 
 to give her most of my time, night and day, as I could 
 get no one to nurse her. 
 
 The morning after I discharged the doctor, St. 
 Peter's Roman Catholic Church took fire, and the lum- 
 
110 Smallpox Appears. 
 
 ber yard between my house and the church was soon 
 ablaze. I stood the heat as long as I could, and then, 
 as I had no one to help me fight the fire that threatened 
 my house, I took m}^ wife in my arms and carried her 
 up the hill to Alex. Txlalloy's house. When I appear- 
 ed at the door with my wife wrapped in a blanket, 
 everybody ran out of the house, and left me in full 
 possession. 
 
 The fire was kept from reaching my house, how- 
 ever, and after the danger was past I got two men who 
 were not afraid of the smallpox to help me carry my 
 wile back home. 
 
 At this time I had the contract to do the stucco 
 work on the new cathedral which was to take the place 
 of the cathedral burned a year or two before. As my 
 wife was ill, and I could get no one to nurse her, I was 
 crmpelied to let the work go for a time, and the com- 
 rniitee in charge of the construction was growing very 
 impatient. The church people wanted to dedicate 
 about Christmas and it v/as getting uncomfortably 
 close to that time of year. I was using the back room 
 to do the casting in. Bishop O'Connor would not al- 
 low them to take the contract away from me, as they 
 wished to do, and told them that under the circum- 
 stances it would be very unchristian. So I was given 
 all the time I needed. I finally got Martha Richard- 
 son to come and take care of my wife, as none of my 
 relatives would do so, and I finished the work on the 
 cathedral on time, though I had to push things very 
 rapidly for a time. 
 
Smallpox Appears. Ill 
 
 After my wife got well, I took her to live in Alle- 
 gheny, and then I got the contract tO' do the stucco 
 work on the Butler court house. I had taken it on a 
 sub-contract, and the man who had the contract broke 
 up just before I finished the work. As a result I never 
 got a cent, and besides had to pay the board of the men 
 working for me and their wages for the time spent in 
 Butler. I did not have money enough left to pay the 
 hotel bill at Butler, but Mr. Mechling told me not to 
 worry, but to pa}^ it when I could. It was some time 
 before I got enough money ahead to pay the bill, but 
 Mr. Mechling never bothered me about it, and was 
 very much pleased when I took the money up to him. 
 After that I got the contract to move an old hotel from 
 Hunkers to where the Cresson grounds are now lo- 
 cated. I had to move the building in sections on the 
 canal. Isaac M. Pinnick, who was a great business 
 man in those days, got me the contract, and he was a 
 firm friend from that time on, and threw many a good 
 thing in my way. 
 
 Early in 1855 I went to do the stucco work and 
 plastering in a house for Mr. Ledley on the Washing- 
 ton plank road. Mr. Frazier and I took the contract 
 together. When we had it nearly finished, Mr. Ledley 
 failed in the coal business, and this left us in very bad 
 shape, as we had so recently lost all the money coming 
 from the Butler court house job. I was at the house 
 overseeing the work when Frazier came to me and told 
 me of the failure of Ledley. We had everything done 
 but the ornamental work. Frazier wanted me to quit 
 right there, but I told him it w^as a fine bit of work, 
 
112 Smallpox Appears. 
 
 would be a great advertisement for us and would bring 
 us more business, and so ought to be finished. He in- 
 sisted that he would not finish it. I offered him $500 
 for his interest in the job, and he accepted it, so I had 
 him drive me to Mr. White, the merchant for whom I 
 had worked so long, borrowed the money, and got 
 Frazier's receipt. 
 
 I kept on with the work, and a few days later, a 
 man whom I did not know came to the place and asked 
 one of my men for the contractor. He then came to 
 me and told me he was Mr. Ledley. He said he had 
 failed in New Orleans, but that if I wanted any coal I 
 could have all I wanted, but he could not give me any 
 money until he got things straightened up. I told 
 him that was all right, that I would wait. 
 
 In a few weeks the men working for me began to 
 give me a great deal of trouble, as I had not been able 
 to pay them. I not only was waiting for the money on 
 the Ledley house and was out the court house money, 
 but a number of others who owed me could not pay. 
 So I was compelled to go to Mr. White again to bor- 
 row $500. 
 
 I had just gotten the money and started up Fifth 
 avenue, when I met a man I did not recognize. 
 
 "Are you James Owens?" he asked me. 
 
 "That is what I am usually called," I replied. 
 
 "Well, I am George Ledley," he said, "and I have 
 just returned from New Orleans. Where have you 
 got the bills for the work you did on my house. 
 
 I told him they were at my house, and he told me 
 to get them and meet him at Patrick's Bank at Fifth 
 
My Last Big Spree. 113 
 
 and Wood. I went home and got my book, and was soon 
 at the bank. As soon as I told him the amount, $4,754> 
 he made me out a check. In going over the books 
 he saw how neat and well done they were and he asked 
 me who I had for a bookkeeper. I told him my wife 
 was keeping the books, and he made out a check in her 
 name for $500 and told me to give it to her for a pres- 
 ent. I had gotten 1,600 bushels of coal from him and 
 gave it to Mr. White, but Mr. Ledley would not take 
 a cent for that, saying it was a present for me for finish- 
 ing his house when I stood so good a chance of losing 
 the full amount of my bill. 
 
 I went at once to Mr. White and settled for the 
 money I had borrowed, then went to Frazier and asked 
 him if he had any money to pa}^ the men, as they threat- 
 ened to quit (which they had.) He told me he didn't 
 have a cent. Then I told him I wouldn't take ad- 
 vantage of him, and told him just how we stood with 
 Mr. Ledley. I gave him his full share, deducting only 
 twenty per cent for finishing the ornamental work. He 
 wanted me to take a larger share of the amount, but I 
 was perfectly satisfied to do as well as I had. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 My Last Big Spree. 
 
 A man in writing the history of his life usually 
 tries to put his best side forward, and to leave out those 
 things which do not not meet the approbation of the 
 
114 My Last Big Spree. 
 
 world. I am not a believer in that sort of history. 
 History should tell facts as they are or were, and that 
 is my only excuse for writing this chapter. There is 
 no pride in it, rather a feeling of shame that it is true, 
 but since I have promised that I would write the truth 
 I must keep my promise, for no one has ever accused 
 me of being untruthful. 
 
 In 1858 I was doing considerable work around the 
 country, much of the time away from home. I spent 
 some time at Evergreen Hamlet, and there I met 
 Thornton Shinn and his brother, both lawyers. , We 
 became great friends, and as our tastes were similar we 
 spent much time together. Besides I did considerable 
 work for them. 
 
 One day I met Thornton Shinn on Fifth avenue in 
 Pittsburg, and he told me he was doing some business 
 for a couple of gentlemen from Germany who were 
 stopping at the Monongahela House. He was fixing 
 up some business about vv^ne, in which the two Ger- 
 mans were dealers, and he said that as they were going 
 to leave that night, they wanted him to bring a few 
 friends in to supper with them. I joined him, and 
 found sixteen others from the city there when we ar- 
 rived. All were drinking, and I kept up my end with 
 the true Irish spirit. The two men from Germany 
 were to take a boat for New Orleans at 3 a. m., and we 
 all went to the boat to see them oflf. 
 
 The boat was not ready to start when we arrived., 
 and we decided to remain with our new friends till 
 time for the boat to leave. So we resumed our drink- 
 ing, and at the same time began to play cards. While 
 
My Last Big Spree. 115 
 
 we were enjoying ourselves, the boat arrived, but we 
 were all so well filled with drink by this time, that no 
 one cared, and the next thing we knew we were at the 
 wharf at New Orleans. 
 
 Even then Thornton Shinn was not satisfied with 
 his trip, and he took a boat for Cuba. The rest of us 
 were willing to stop where we were, except that all of 
 us were anxious to get back to Pittsburg. An inven- 
 tory showed us, however, that the total amount of 
 money in the party was ten cents, not even enough to 
 send ^ message home for money to pui chase tickets. 
 We were walking along the levee thinking of home 
 and mother, when I saw Captain Koontz walking to- 
 ward us. I knew him well, but I was ashamed to have 
 him see me in such a plight, and I turned away from 
 him. But as he saw me, he hailed me and asked what 
 was wrong. 
 
 "What did I ever do to you, Jimmie, that you 
 should shun me in a strange city?" he demanded. 
 
 Then I told him of our predicament and that I was 
 ashamed to be seen by a friend under the circum- 
 stances. 
 
 He knew some of the others in the party also, so 
 he took us to the bank and got us enough money to pay 
 our passage home, and some besides for incidental ex- 
 penses. 
 
 "If my boat were going up the river I would take 
 you all home," he said, "but it won't be ready for some 
 time yet, and this is the best I can do for you." 
 
 We took the first boat north, and when we got 
 liome, I found my wife was in mourning for me, had 
 
116 A Visit to S'outli Carolina. 
 
 been for five weeks. She had been told that I was 
 last seen going toward the Monongahela river, and it 
 was generally reported that I was drowned. 
 
 That was the last time I ever took a drink in a pub- 
 lic bar or on a boat. I do not intend to say that I have 
 never drunk anything since, but I have been a moderate 
 drinker and never have since become intoxicated. 
 Drinking, like anything else, can be done in moderation 
 without great harm, but I decided that I had set the 
 limit of my capacity too high. My business had suf- 
 fered a good deal while I was away, but I had an old 
 man named Moses working for me, who had kept the 
 men at work. 
 
 Thornton Shinn did not get back for six or seven 
 months. The first time I sav/ him after he returned he 
 told me that when he came to himself in Cuba he 
 thought he was in hell because it was so hot, and there 
 was no one but negroes around him. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 A Visit to South Carolina. 
 
 In 1859 I got a letter from Columbia, S. C, asking 
 me to bid on the stucco work on the State capitol 
 building. The letter came from George Oulds, a 
 brother of the man who had been so kind to me after 
 my arrival in this country, and who lived at Baltimore. 
 I bid $33,000 and got the contract. So I took eleven 
 men and a foreman with me from Pittsburg and went 
 
A Visit to South Carolina. 117 
 
 south. I had the ornamental work made in Pittsburg 
 and shipped to me. We were getting along rapidly, 
 when talk of secession began to be heard. It was a 
 trying time, but I kept my opinions to myself and kept 
 the men quiet, so we were not molested. One day 
 Mr. Quids sent for me. 
 
 "Jin^n^iC'" he said when I arrived, "I suppose you 
 are as strong for the North as I am for the South. ft 
 begins to look a little squally for your men here." 
 
 "You are right about my sentiments," I told him, 
 "but this work ought to be finished, as I have been 
 losing sonre money recently, and can't afiford to give up 
 this opportunity. I would rather take a few chances 
 to finish it." 
 
 "I'll see that you get your money," he replied, "but 
 I think it best for you and your men to get away for 
 the North as soon as possible. Keep quiet abont this 
 and I will see how we can manage it." 
 
 The next day the board met and I was sent for. 
 The Sate Supervisor was there, and he went with me 
 into the capitol building to look over the work as it 
 stood. 
 
 "That looks like pretty expensive stuiif," he said 
 when he saw the material laying on the floor ready to 
 be put in place. I can tell by the look of it that it is 
 hand carved." 
 
 I told him it was rather expensive, but did not 
 think it necessary to explain that it was made in 
 moulds. He asked me if I would take $28,000 for the 
 job as it stood, and I said I would. 
 
118 A Visit to South Carolina. 
 
 We went back to where the board was sitting, and 
 a check for $28,000 was promptly made out for me. I 
 was then given passes for myself and my men so that 
 we would have no trouble getting home, should hos- 
 tilities break out, and we started for Vicksburg. 
 
 My foreman, Mr. Anderson, said he would remain 
 in Columbia, as he had never been treated better any 
 place in the country, and said it was a shame to desert 
 such people. So he stayed and finished the job, and 
 got the balance of the money on the contract. I was 
 sorry to leave it half done as it was a fine piece of work, 
 but my heart was in the north, and all my interests 
 were there. 
 
 The South Carolina capitol building is one of the 
 finest of the old buildings in the United States, and es- 
 caped the ravages of the war because of its beauty. 
 When General Grant was in Columbia he made the 
 capitol his headquarters and would not allow it to be 
 destroyed, saying it was too beautiful to be desecrated 
 by a mob, even though the people of South Carolina 
 deserved all the punishment they received. 
 
 A new year had begun by the time I was in Pitts- 
 burg I had only been home about three weeks when I 
 got a letter from Lancaster Oulds of Baltimore, asking 
 me to make a bid on the Parker church. His brother 
 had written him of the good work we had done in 
 South Carolina. 
 
 I found just about as strong a Southern spirit in 
 Baltimore as in Columbia. It was a hot-bed of rebel- 
 lion, and we had to keep very quiet if we wanted to feel 
 half way safe. We had been there but a few days 
 
More Contracting Experiences. 119 
 
 when a party of men came to my brother and myself 
 and asked us to go to the polls and vote the Democratic 
 ticket. I told them we would do nothing of the kind 
 and this made them very angry. 
 
 "1 voted the Whig ticket when Taylor was nomin- 
 ated," I told them, ''and after that I voted with the 
 Knownothings rather than vote the Democratic ticket, 
 and I am not going to begin it at this late day." 
 
 The result of the conference was that it was made 
 pretty warm for me and my men in Baltimore, but we 
 finally got the work finished and got home with whole 
 skins, though it did look pretty squally for us at times. 
 
 -O- 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 More Contracting Experiences. 
 
 Soon after I returned from Baltimore I took a con- 
 tract from William Kerr to do the brick work, stucco 
 work and for putting cement on the outside of his new 
 house in Point Breeze. When I got along as far as 
 the cementing he wanted me to let him ofif on the bal- 
 ance of the contract, but I refused to do so. He said 
 war was coming on, and he did not care to finish up the 
 work at once. Nevertheless, I went ahead with it, and 
 when the time came for him to pay I had to take his 
 notes or nothing. On the day the notes fell due, his 
 bookkeeper asked me if he had made any arrangements 
 to pay the notes. 
 
120 More Contracting Experiences. 
 
 "He leaves to-day for a trip to Europe," said the 
 bookkeeper. 
 
 I went to see my banker, and found nothing had 
 been done about the notes, so I started out to hunt Mr. 
 Kerr, and I must say I had blood in my eye. I secured 
 a warrant, and the services of an officer, and we at last 
 found him just as he had reached the depot to take the 
 train for New York. When he found that it was go- 
 ing to delay his trip he gave me the full amount and I 
 let him go. 
 
 A few years later Mr. Kerr's wife died, and he mar- 
 ried again. The second Mrs. Kerr wanted some gut- 
 ters put on the house and the jobber who did the work 
 broke part of the cement work I had put on. Mrs. 
 Kerr asked her husband who had done the cement 
 work, and he told her that the fellow who did the work 
 was dead. 
 
 "It's too bad," she told him, 'T want it repaired 
 right, and it's a pity to have it half done by some one 
 else who will be more than likely to spoil it." 
 
 A little later she was talking to the man repairing 
 the gutters, and told him she was sorry to hear that the 
 man who had done the cement work was dead. 
 
 "Jimmie Owens is not very dead," said the man, 
 laughing. "I saw him this morning on my way up 
 here, and he looked prett}^ active for a dead one." 
 
 Mrs. Kerr at once ordered her carriage and came 
 to look for me. When she told me her husband said I 
 was dead. I told her that I guessed he wished I were, 
 but I was too bus}^ to accommodate him in that respect. 
 
More Contracting Experiences. 121 
 
 Then I told her all about the affair of the first contract 
 and the notes. 
 
 "Well, I want you to come out and fix up that 
 work, anyhow," she said, laughing at the scene I had 
 described, catching her husband at the depot and mak- 
 ing him pay the notes. She insisted that I should get 
 into the carriage at once and go out and see what was 
 to be done. As we were walking into the yard at her 
 residence we met Mr. Kerr coming out. 
 
 "I have risen from the dead, you see," I said to 
 him. 
 
 "I had hoped you would never set foot on my place 
 again," was all the reply he made, as he passed on out 
 the gate on the way to his office. 
 
 I made the contract with Mrs. Kerr to fix up the 
 • cement work, and while we were looking it over, I saw 
 that the man fixing the gutters was not putting in good 
 copper, and told her so. Mrs. Kerr asked me to stay, 
 take charge of the work and see that it was done right. 
 I told her that if I did that I would have to charge her 
 $io a day. 
 
 "I don't care what it costs, see that the work is 
 done right, and when it is finished I will see that you 
 get your money." 
 
 So I took the contract, and when I finished the 
 cement work I added to the bill four days overseeing 
 the other v/ork at $io a day. I handed the bill to Mr. 
 Kerr, and he said it was extortion. I reminded him 
 that I had gotten $50 for less work many a time, and 
 also that if I took the account to his wife she would 
 
122 Mixing in Politics. 
 
 pay it without question, so he paid me rather than have 
 me go to his wife about it. 
 
 After that Mr. Kerr and I became good friends, 
 and I built two houses on Liberty street for him. 
 While doing the whitewashing, I put colored men at 
 work, and Mr. Kerr came down and raised another row 
 with me. 
 
 ''It's an insult to put negroes to work on my 
 houses," he declared. So I had to send the colored 
 men away and put white men at the work just to please 
 him. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 Mixing in Politics. 
 
 Just prior to the war politics were pretty hot in 
 Pittsburg, and I could not escape getting into the fi*ay 
 if I had wanted to. But my fighting Irish spirit al- 
 ways carried me into the thick of any sort of a scrim- 
 mage. I had a good bit of influence in the district 
 where I lived, and was consequently one of the dele- 
 gates sent to Lafayette Hall when the Republican 
 party was formed. It was an enthusiastic meeting, 
 but enthusiasm alone is not enough to win elections, 
 and our first candidate for President — John C. Fre- 
 mont — was defeated. Still the result had shown us 
 that there was a place for the party in the country, and 
 a big place, too. 
 
Mixing in Politics. 123 
 
 Four years later, J. M. Brush and myself were 
 elected delegates to the National Convention of the 
 party to be held at Chicago. We were instructed for 
 Seward, of New York, and we stood out for him until 
 it was shown that he had no possible chance of elec- 
 tion. About II o'clock on the fourth day of the con- 
 vention the name of Lincoln was sprung on the con- 
 vention. The old rail splitter, as he was known, was 
 of little prominence then outside of his own state, but 
 his victory over Stephen A. Douglass had given him 
 prestige that made his name take like wild-fire. The 
 house was in an uproar, and on the second ballot the 
 man who has since been the patron saint of Republican- 
 ism was the nominee of the party for President. 
 
 Then a crowd started for Springfield, and I went 
 along. We brought Lincoln back to Chicago with us, 
 and the whole city went wild with enthusiasm. I can 
 still see, in the eye of memory, the great crowds in the 
 streets, and the mass of people in the convention hall 
 as the nominee appeared, and I can hear the cheers as 
 he mounted the platform. It was a most inspiring oc- 
 casion. The enthusiasm never faltered until the old 
 rail-splitter was seated in the White House, and then 
 kept behind him through the trying times of the years 
 of bloodshed and carnage that followed. There were 
 dark days, when it seemed that the Union of States was 
 doomed, but never did the people lose faith in their 
 champion and friend seated in the Presidental chair, 
 carrying the burden of an afflicted and war-worn nation 
 on his shoulders. 
 
124 Mixing in Politics. 
 
 These were trying times in Pittsburg for there was 
 work to do, and work in plenty, for those who could not 
 join the hosts in the field as well as for those who could 
 go to the front. I tried to enlist, but was refused be- 
 cause of the condition of my health, then I helped as- 
 sume the burden of those who must stay behind. I 
 was on the committee to see that each ward furnished 
 its quota of men to fill the ranks of the army, and then 
 I helped the same committee raise money to support 
 the men we sent out. Our troubles would come in 
 plenty when we landed in a Democratic house. We 
 could get clubs and bricks and almost anything the 
 army could not use, but no money. 
 
 There were ropes hanging over the lamp posts to 
 hang traitors, and one Sunday as I was going home 
 with my wife and children after a walk I met Dr. Mc- 
 Cook coming down the street carrying a red shirt on 
 the bayonet of his gun. 
 
 "They have a man down in the lockup who was 
 caught trying to smuggle goods to the Southern army," 
 he said, "and we are going to hang him." 
 
 I sent my family home, and joined the doctor. 
 Crowds began to follow us as we went along, and the 
 street was filled as we got to the prison door. I. went 
 in with the doctor to see the fellow. He declared he 
 knew nothing about the alleged clothing that was being 
 smuggled South, and said he was en route to Ohio. 
 Then we called in the conductor on the train and he 
 told us the man's ticket called for a ride to Canton, O. 
 and he was let off and escorted to the train. 
 
Mixing in Politics. 125 
 
 Matters continued in this excited state for about a 
 year. We had a hard time getting any money from 
 our own side, and we decided that we would force the 
 Southern sympathizers to pay their share of the ex- 
 pense of conducting the war. We had a meeting of 
 delegates from the nine wards and a committee was ap- 
 pointed to go to Harrisburg to get the Legislature to 
 pass a law assessing a capias tax. I was named as the 
 representative of the ward in which I lived. 
 
 When we got off the train at Harrisburg we met 
 a committee from the South Side that had gone there 
 on the same mission and was coming away defeated, 
 They had been turned down by a vote of three to one. 
 We were somewhat discouraged at the report of their 
 poor success, but we decided that we had better try 
 our hand at it, since we had come so far. I was well 
 acquainted with J. P. Glass, member of the Legislature 
 from my ward, and I told the committee I would see 
 him. We went to the Capitol Hotel and all registered, 
 then I went to find Glass. 
 
 Mr. Glass said things looked pretty dark for* us. 
 but advised us to stay around for a few days and see 
 if an opportunity did not turn up to put the thing 
 through. He took us about the town and gave us a 
 good time, but that didn't seem to be doing much good. 
 On the second day, however, he advised us to give a 
 dinner and invite the members of the Legislature. I 
 called on the members of the committee and asked 
 what they would give toward the scheme. Hugh M. 
 Bole said he would give $i,ooo if necessary, and other 
 members of the committee gave as liberally as they 
 
126 Mixing in Politics. 
 
 could. I then told Glass to go ahead with arrange- 
 ments for the dinner. He saw the proprietor of the 
 hotel and arranged for the affair. 
 
 The following night Glass invited seventy-two of 
 the members of the Legislature. Supper was started 
 Jate, and it kept on for hours. All kinds of wine was 
 served and ever3^body was having a great time. But 
 along about 3 a. m. some of them began to think about 
 getting to bed. Glass called me to one side and told 
 me to keep the party there until they would just have 
 time to get to the legislative hall, so I ordered more 
 wine and the fun started all over again. 
 
 Shortly after daylight Glass told me it was time 
 to ease off so they could get away. 
 
 When the House met, we all went to the session, 
 and James Onslow carried the bill up to Glass. We 
 were seated where we could see how every member 
 voted. When placed on its final passage the bill went 
 through unanimously. 
 
 Then we started for the Senate, where the bill was 
 carried in by Onslow and handed to the President of 
 the Senate, James Graham, and again we lined up 
 where we could watch the vote. The Senate also 
 passed our bill. At just 11 130 we took the bill to the 
 executive mansion and Governor Curtin signed it, so 
 we were ready to return home, successful and happy. 
 
 We did not return straight home, but went with a 
 party of members of the Legislature on a trip to Wash- 
 ington, Philadelphia. Baltimore and New York and 
 spent two of the best weeks of our lives. 
 
Wartime Experiences. 127 
 
 As soon as we got back to Pittsburg we began to 
 collect the tax, but, as before, we got other things be- 
 sides money. It finally got so hot that Mayor Wilson 
 sent two policemen with each collector. One day a 
 man threw me a bouquet in the shape of a brick from 
 a second story window. I knew the fellow and the 
 next time I met him on the street I gave him a brick, 
 though I did not hand it to him very gently, just to 
 show him how much I appreciated his favor. 
 
 We got our full quota of taxes that year, and the 
 next year we had about half the amount collected when 
 the law was repealed by the Legislature. Wm. Ward 
 and some other Democrats tried to get their money 
 back, but the courts decided against them on the 
 ground that while the law was in force we had a per- 
 fect right to collect the money. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 War-Time Experiences. 
 
 During the war, horses and mules were worth al- 
 most their weight in gold, and a man would gO' a long 
 way to purchase a good animal for his work. I had 
 a little mule I had no immediate use for, and I asked 
 'Squire Lindsey to sell him for me. I asked $500 for 
 the mule, and the 'Squire was some days looking for a 
 purchaser at the price. One day he told me he had 
 arranged to meet a purchaser at Sterling's saloon, and 
 we went there to meet the man, who was a miner with 
 
128 Wartime Experiences, 
 
 a low coal bank. The miner had not arrived when 
 we went into the place, and while we were waiting for 
 him, 'Squire Lindsey got into an argument with a big 
 Irishman, who was best equipped with the logic of the 
 fists, and when the argument got warmed up, he peeled 
 off his coat and vest and waded into the 'Squire. He 
 knocked Lindsey down and was pummelling him, when 
 I dragged him off. The 'Squire rushed out of the door 
 as soon as he was able to get up, and then the Irishman 
 turned on me. He knocked me against the stove and 
 was kicking me in the face, when a crowd came in, and 
 my assailant ran out the back door. 
 
 I got up and put his coat and vest, containing his 
 watch and money, into the stove. By this time, my 
 eyes had swollen shut and I could not see. A man 
 who knew me took me around to the building next to 
 the postoffice, which I was then constructing, and sat 
 me down on a pile of lumber. I had only been there 
 a moment when a scaffold fell, and when my men saw 
 me they thought the scaffolding had fallen on me. I 
 did not disabuse their minds, but allowed one of them 
 to take me home and go for a doctor. 
 
 The first day I was able to be out, I went to the 
 postoffice, where I got some letters and was sitting 
 there in the lobby reading them when a friend came 
 along and asked me what was the cause of my black 
 eyes. I told him about the battle in the saloon. 
 
 "Would you know the fellow if you were to see 
 him again?" he asked. 
 
Wartime Experiences. 129 
 
 "I certainly would," I replied, and happening to 
 look out in the street I saw the fellow passing in a bug- 
 gy with Jim Williams, and pointed him out. 
 
 The two men in the buggy went to Williams' sa- 
 loon and we followed them. My Irish friend was stand- 
 ing at the bar, when the man who was with me walked 
 up and gave him a punch on the jaw that sent him 
 sprawling on the floor. He followed this up with a 
 few hot kicks that made the fellow yell bloody murder. 
 
 "Jump on him, Jimmie, and give him what is com- 
 ing to him/' said my friend, but I wouldn't do it, so he 
 handed him a few more hot ones, then let him get up. 
 
 ''If I ever hear of you attacking Jimmie Owens 
 again," said my friend to the bruised and bleeding 
 Irishman, "I will kill you, and consider it a pleasure." 
 
 That gave me my revenge on the Irishman, but I 
 still had the mule on m}^ hands, as I was not able to see 
 the miner who wanted to make the purchase. But 
 about this time a circus came along, and the manager 
 wanted a mule to send up in a baloon to draw a crowd. 
 He offered me $ioo if the mule came down safe, and 
 $500 if he was hurt. So I let him take the mule, and he 
 came down all right, so I was $100 a head. 
 
 A few days later 'Squire Lindsey came to me, and 
 said the miner was in town again and was still anxious 
 to buy the mule. I went down to Young's with the 
 mule and sold him to the miner for $500 and the two 
 of us went into the saloon to count out the money, 
 while the 'Squire stayed outside to watch the mule. 
 Just as the miner and I were coming out of the saloon 
 the 'Squire was fooling around the business end of the 
 
130 I Become a Horseman. 
 
 animal, and the mule gave him a kick that lifted him 
 out into the street. 
 
 ''If I had known the mule would kick, I wouldn't 
 have bought him," said the purchaser. 
 
 "Did you ever know a mule that wouldn't?" I ask- 
 ed him. "Still, if you don't want him, you can have 
 your money back. The mule is as good as the money 
 to me." 
 
 When he he saw I was not very anxious to sell, the 
 miner led the mule avv^ay. A few days later he came 
 in and told me the mule was not worth $5, as he kicked 
 so much he could not hitch him up. I offered him $100 
 for the mule, and he accepted, so I had the mule on my 
 hands again. Shortly after that ni}^ brother sold the 
 mule again to a miner in Washington county, getting 
 $500 for him, so I got two prices for the mule and the 
 'Squire got two lickings. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 I Become a Horseman. 
 
 In 1861 I went down to vSummit. O., to buy a horse 
 I had been told was a match for one I had, and when 
 I got there I found he was not the horse I wanted at 
 all. I was very much disappointed, and it was plain 
 to be seen. A wag at the hotel where I was stopping 
 said if I would take him to New Philadelphia he would 
 
I Become a Horseman, 131 
 
 show me a horse that I could get which would pick up 
 my other horse and the buggy with it and go ahead of 
 anything on the road. 
 
 '*If he can't," he said, "I will pay the expense of 
 the trip." 
 
 I accepted his offer, and we drove over. We found 
 the horse hitched to a plow, and when I looked at it. 
 I declared that I would be ashamed to be seen driving 
 behind such an old reprobate, for he was certainly as 
 ugly an old horse as I ever laid eyes on. 
 
 "Beauty w^as not in the bargain. What I recom- 
 mended him for was speed," said my companion. 
 
 I finally consented to have the horse hitched to 
 the buggy for a trial heat down the road. When I got 
 out into the road, I tightened up the reins and started 
 him up. He didn't seem to need a whip, and the way 
 he picked up that buggy and flew along the road was 
 enough to take my breath awa}^ I had never ridden 
 so fast in my life. I drove him about a mile down the 
 road to see that his wind was all right, then turned and 
 came back, and it seemed to me that he came faster 
 than he went. When I reached the gate he slowed up, 
 and had never turned a hair. 
 
 ''What will you take for him?" I asked. 
 
 "One thousand dollars," was the reply. 
 
 "Better save your breath," I told him, "for I would 
 never pay that much for the best horse that ever pulled 
 a buggy." 
 
 Just then his wife called us in to dinner, and after 
 dinner we went to the stable to look over the horse 
 again. I wanted the horse, but not to the extent of 
 
132 I Become a Horseman. 
 
 $i,ooo. I offered him $500, but he laughed at me. I 
 offered him $550, and then just as I was ready to drive 
 off, I turned around in the buggy, and said : 
 
 "If you'll take $575 you may lead him out and hand 
 me the hitching strap." 
 
 "You own Maguesler," he said starting for the 
 stable, and he soon came leading him out, while I was 
 counting out his money. 
 
 I drove the horse back to Pittsburg, then put him 
 in the stable to rest a few days, giving him only light 
 exercise. One morning I decided it was about time 
 to hitch him up and see if he could do as well in the 
 city as he did in the country. I drove out the Fourth 
 street road to Point Breeze, where the fast horses were 
 to be found at that time, and stopped to allow some of 
 the fellows to look him over. 
 
 "I'll give you $5 for him," said one, and all the 
 others laughed. 
 
 "Can't take it," I replied, "I'm going to enter him 
 in the pet stock show." 
 
 Everybody around thought my buggy horse was a 
 good joke, but I never said a word about what he 
 could do as a roadster. I picked up the reins and 
 jogged away on the road home. About the time I got 
 to Black Horse on Penn avenue Alex. King came along 
 and passed me with his mouse colored horse, that was 
 considered one of the best roadsters in the city. I 
 spoke to Maguesler and he straightened out as if de- 
 termined to make a reputation for himself then and 
 there. 
 
I Become a Horseman. 133 
 
 Before we reached St. Mary's cemetery I had 
 passed Alex as easy as he could pass a dray horse, and 
 when I got to the toll house, I stopped to wait for him 
 to come up. 
 
 "Where did you get that horse?" he demanded as 
 soon as he was within hailing distance. 
 
 **Just took him out of a sand-wagon to run into 
 town for a few moments," I replied. 
 
 "That's the way with you Irish," he said. "You 
 don't know the difference between a sand-wagon horse 
 and a thoroughbred. I'll give you twelve sand-wagon 
 horses for him." 
 
 "Couldn't think of it," I replied, "for when I want 
 sand I want it quick, and that is the reason I have this 
 horse." 
 
 Alex insisted on my putting a. price on the horse, 
 but I refused, as I told him I was in a hurry to get to 
 town, so I gave Maguesler his head and left the mouse 
 colored roadster far in the rear. 
 
 About a week later the Presbyterian church gave a 
 picnic at Baum's grove, and I hitched up the horse and 
 drove out with my wife and children in a two-seated 
 top buggy. The buggy was made so that the top and 
 rear seat could be removed. My wife and two children 
 occupied the rear seat and I had a boy named Holson 
 in the seat with me. 
 
 When I was preparing to start home from the pic- 
 nic, I saw Alex. King and Dr. McCandless run to. their 
 horses and hitch also. They both had fast horses and 
 thought because of my heavy load they would have no 
 
134 I Become a Horseman. 
 
 trouble in passing- me in the road and would then have 
 the laugh on me. 
 
 King- passed me just as we left the grove, but be- 
 fore we struck the Fourth street road I Avas ahead again 
 and Maguesler was going like the wind, never seeming 
 to mind the heavy load in the buggy. 
 
 When I had gotten about a mile beyond the Soho 
 hill, I discovered that the top and rear seat of my buggy 
 was gone. I had been so wrapped up in the race that I 
 never thought of anything but winning. 1 was badly 
 frightened when I discovered the condition of affairs, 
 and turned and started back to see how much damage 
 had been done, expecting to find my family at least 
 badly hurt by the accident. 
 
 When I reached the Soho hill, I found the doctor 
 had one of my boys in a house putting a plaster on his 
 head, which was slightly cut, but that was all the dam- 
 age done. 
 
 "You evidentl}'- don't care what becomes of 3'Our 
 family so long as you win the race." said the Doctor." 
 I guess he was sore because his horse was so easily 
 distanced. 
 
 The next time I hitched up I asked Elizabeth if 
 she would like to try it again, and she said she certainly 
 would, that she didn't mind being spilled out, as we 
 won the race with odds against us. 
 
 Maguesler was a pacer and I wanted him to trot, 
 as trotting was the most fashionable gait then as 
 now, though pacers are more respected now. So I 
 took him to Harry Van Vorce's race track and 
 spent a lot of money on him, but it was no use. He 
 
Tom Scott and Isaac M. Pinnick. 135 
 
 was a natural pacer and trotting was not in his line of 
 accomplishments. 
 
 One night I was in Levi Young's saloon with some 
 of the boys, attending a little dinner, and we all drank 
 pretty hard. When I sobered up John Watson and Sam 
 Keys told me they had bought Maguesler from me for 
 $7,500. I had only $5,000 in my pocket, and I told them 
 they must be mistaken, but they said I had spent the 
 balance, and I let them have the horse. 
 
 Maguesler was the horse that afterward drove 
 Dexter to his great record, and was later sold with 
 Dexter for $37,000, and I never saw him again, and 
 finally completely lost track of him. My wife said she 
 was glad I sold the horse, even though she would not 
 admit that she was afraid to ride behind him. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 Tom Scott and Isaac M. Pinnick. 
 
 In 1852, Isaac M. Pinnick, with whom I was well 
 acquainted, introduced me to Tom Scott, who was then 
 Superintendent of the Western Division of the Penn- 
 sylania Railroad, but who was afterward President of 
 the company. The company wanted to build thirty- 
 two cottages at Cresson Springs, and when the man 
 who had the contract got fairly well started he failed, 
 leaving the work unfinished. Pinnick brought Scott to 
 me, and they asked me to give them figures on finishing 
 the work. I told them I would take $3,500 for each 
 
13 G Tom Scott and Isaac M. Pinnick. 
 
 building. Scott asked me what bond I would give for 
 the faithful performance of the contract. 
 
 ''Any amount," I replied. 
 
 "Make it $100,000," said Scott. "Who will you 
 get to go on your bond ?" 
 
 "Isaac M. Pinnick and Tom Scott," I replied. "Are 
 they good enough?" 
 
 "No one but an Irishman would have such impu- 
 dence," said Scott looking at Pinnick. 
 
 "I'll go on his bond, if necessary," said Pinnick, 
 "but I don't think you need a bond. He has done a con- 
 siderable amount of work for me and I never found 
 a bond necessary." 
 
 So Scott agreed that I could take the contract 
 without giving bond and I started to work at once. 
 
 When I built the Crescent hotel the company al- 
 lowed me to use water from the watering tank to make 
 mortar, and when I began work on the cottages I also 
 began using water from the tank without saying any- 
 thing about it to anyone. Scott came to me and told me 
 I could not use water from the tank, and when I told 
 him it had been the custom, he said he didn't care a 
 hurrah for custom. I was to let that water alone. He 
 had a strong lock put on the tank house door, but when 
 I needed the water I made a syphon from hose I se- 
 cured at the Eagle fire house in Pittsburg and got all 
 the v.^ater I wanted for the time being. Pretty soon a 
 coal train came along and stopped to take water, but 
 found none in the tank. The engineer reported the 
 fact at headquarters, and the next day Scott came down 
 again. He brought a lot of laborers, thinking a pipe 
 
Tom Scott and Isaac M. Pinnick. 137 
 
 had burst, but after digging all around the tank and 
 finding no leak he could not understand it, as the 
 lock had not been broken. He gave it up and returned 
 to Altoona. 
 
 Billy Fritz was the only one of the men working 
 for me who knew how I was getting the water. The 
 next night when I was passing through the bar-room 
 of the hotel, on the way out to get some more water 
 while the coast was clear, the bar tender said there was 
 a Dutchman in the billiard room who was looking for 
 me. 
 
 "He's here to see that you don't get any more 
 water from that tank," said the bar tender. 
 
 I went upstairs and awakened Billy Fritz, who 
 was also a German, and told him to get acquainted 
 with Scott's watchman and keep him busy while I got 
 the water. Billy went downstairs, got to talking with 
 the Dutchman and soon they were sitting at a table 
 drinking beer at my expense. I quickly slipped out and 
 attached the hose. In a short while I had about all 
 the water I wanted and the tank was empty. I return- 
 ed to the bar-room and Billy and his new friend were 
 still sitting there with beer glasses in front of them. 
 I told Billy I thought I would have a gla^s of ale be- 
 fore going to bed and asked what he and his friend 
 would have. Each took a glass of beer, and we were 
 drinking and talking when a train came along and 
 found the tank empty as usual. The Dutchman jumped 
 up and ran out to see what had become of the water, 
 while Billy and I sat still and laughed as though we 
 
138 Tom Scott and Isaac M. Pinnick. 
 
 were attending a minstrel show and listening to jokes 
 that were old friends. 
 
 That ended the experience of the Dutchman as a 
 watchman. The next night, while I was preparing to 
 get my usual supply of water, I heard a freight train 
 stop at Adams' sawmill, some distance up the road, and 
 guessed that someone was coming along to spy on my 
 operations. I jumped over the fence and hid in the 
 bushes, and pretty soon saw a man come down and 
 walk all around the tank. He then passed around 
 among the houses, and finally went into the telegraph 
 office and lighted a lamp. Then I saw that it was Mr. 
 Scott, himself. He went to the teleg-raph instrument 
 and sent a message, then came out and walked around 
 among the houses till nearly daylight. At last he went 
 to the Crescent house and sat down on the porch in 
 such a position as to be able to see the tank. He put 
 his feet up on a chair and prepared himself as though 
 trying to be comfortable for a long siege. 
 
 When I saw how things stood I was more de- 
 termined than ever to get the water that morning. So 
 I told Billy Fritz to get a section of the hose and get on 
 the far side of the tank and run the water out. I stood 
 where I could watch Scott's feet so that I could warn 
 Billy if he made a move. I kept watch till Billy told 
 me the water was all out of the tank, then we hid the 
 hose and both went to bed. 
 
 When we came down stairs later, after getting 
 some sleep, Scott was standing at the door. 
 
 "Is this the time of day you usually get up to go to 
 work?" he asked me. 
 
Tom Scott and Isaac M. Pinnick. 139 
 
 "I wasn't feeling very well this morning," I re- 
 plied, "and decided to get plenty of sleep." 
 
 "When a man stays up all night he doesn't usually 
 want to get up very early," said Scott. "How did you 
 get that water out of the tank last night?" 
 
 "I never touched your old tank, last night," I said. 
 (It was Billy that "touched" the tank, but I didn't tell 
 Scott so). 
 
 That ended the trouble about taking water out of 
 the tank. Scott decided that since he could not catch 
 me there was no use sending anyone else to look after 
 nothing more was said about it. 
 
 When I finished the work and had Mr. Pinnick's 
 signature to the paper saying everything was satisfac- 
 tory, I went to Altoona to get the voucher for my pay. 
 After Mr. Scott signed the paper he said he was going 
 east to live and that v/e had been good friends, but be- 
 fore he Avould give me the money I would have to tell 
 it, so I was allovv^ed to use all the water I wanted and 
 him how I got the water out of the tank the night he 
 was playing watchman. 
 
 "I will never tell you," I replied, "but I have a lot 
 of men waiting down at Cresson for their money and I 
 want to get home this afternoon, and if you will take 
 me to Cresson on a special I will show you how it was 
 done." 
 
 He told me to go out and get my money, while he 
 ordered the special, and we were soon on our way. 
 
 When we reached Cresson I told Billy Fritz to get 
 the hose out and take it to the tank without letting 
 Scott see him. Then I took Scott up to the hotel and 
 
140 Tom Scott and Isaac M. Pinnick. 
 
 seated him in the same position he occupied the morn- 
 ing he had been playing watchman. When he was 
 seated I asked him if he could not see how the water 
 was being taken from the tank. 
 
 "I can't see anything. Was that all you brought 
 me down here for?" he asked. 
 
 "Well, the water is flowing from the tank never- 
 theless," I told him. 
 
 Then I took him around to the other side of the 
 tank, and there was Billy Fritz with the hose throwing 
 a big stream into Dr. Jackson's woods. 
 
 ''That will do, now, Jimmie. I will have to admit 
 that you have beaten me." 
 
 Then we shook hands, and he said he would for- 
 give me for all my crimes, as he was going to leave 
 this part of the country and did not like to leave me 
 with such a heavy burden of sin hanging over me. 
 
 Alexander McClurg was one of the rich men of 
 Pittsburg before the war, but like many men of wealth 
 to-day, he was very hard to deal with. He had a great 
 dislike for paying bills, and also made it a policy to pay 
 as much as possible in store orders, thus getting two 
 profits on ever}^ investment when possible. He worked 
 every known scheme to get the best of men who had 
 dealings with him. His property he kept in his wife's 
 name and all contracts were made in his own name, so 
 there was no chance to levy on him. 
 
 I had done some work for him on Lafayette Hall, 
 (now the Grand Theater) and he owed me $1,165. For 
 months I tried to get a settlement, but he always put 
 
Tom Scott and Isaac M. Pinnick. 141 
 
 me off. Finally we had a row in his office, and I de- 
 clared I would never enter his place again. 
 
 One day shortly after the row I was driving out 
 Perrysville road and saw a number of new houses go- 
 ing up. 
 
 "Who's houses are these," I asked of a man work- 
 ing near the road. 
 
 "Alec McClurg's," he replied. 
 
 I said nothing more, but drove on. The following 
 day I went up to McClurg's office. 
 
 "Hello, Jimmie. I thought you would never come 
 to my office again," was his greeting. 
 
 "I'd forgotten about that," I replied. "I need a 
 little money and thought I would come in and see if 
 I could not get about $50. 
 
 "Can't do it to-day, Jimmie. Haven't got a cent in 
 bank." 
 
 "Alright," I said, "business is a little slack with me 
 just now and I thought I'd come in to see how you were 
 fixed." 
 
 "By the way," I continued. "I hear you are build- 
 ing some houses out the Perrysville road. Have you 
 contracted for the plastering?" 
 
 "Not yet," he replied, "I hadn't even thought of go- 
 ing to you about it, as you said you would never work 
 for me again." 
 
 "Oh, there's no use quarreling," I told him. "I 
 haven't much to do just now, and I like to keep my 
 men busy. I'd be glad to make a deal with you." 
 
 "You'll have to take your pay in store orders," he 
 said. 
 
142 Tom Scott and Isaac M. Pinnlck. 
 
 "I don't mind that," I told him. "My wife asked 
 me to get some groceries and some cloth for a dress for 
 the little girl to-day, and store orders would be as good 
 as money just at present. 
 
 ''AH right, I'll be glad for you to do the work on 
 those terms, Jimmie," he said, and at my suggestion he 
 wrote me the store orders right there. 
 
 ''I don't know just \vhat I want," I told him, so he 
 wrote me two open orders, one for dry goods on Vv^hite 
 & Smiley and the other for groceries on Francis Bailey. 
 
 As soon as I left his oflice I went to the dry goods 
 store and asked I\Ir. Smile}^ how much I'.IcClurg's order 
 was good for. 
 
 ''He just sent me a credit for $500 this morning," 
 replied Smiley. 
 
 "Alright," I said, presenting my open order. "J^^st 
 credit me with the amount and charge it up to McClurg 
 on this order." 
 
 Smiley soon had the account transferred, and then 
 I went to the grocery store, where I learned that Mc- 
 Clurg had also placed a $500 credit that morning, and I 
 took that also. Then I went back to McClurg's office. 
 
 'T have just discovered that I cannot do that Per- 
 r3'-sville road work for you. Alec," I said. 
 
 "Awfully sorry, Jimmie for your work is always 
 first-class," he replied, without getting up. 
 
 Then I started for the door as though that was all 
 I had come for, but suddenly turning back I said : 
 
 "By the way, Alec, I arranged a'bout those store 
 orders, and will give you credit for $1,000 on that Laf- 
 a3^ette hall account." 
 
Warm Times Politically. 143 
 
 He jumped up, livid with rage, and as 1 dodged out 
 of the door a chair came flying toward my head and 
 was crushed to splinters against the door jamb. I lost 
 no time getting down stairs, and was glad to^ escape 
 alive. 
 
 I never did any more work for Alexander McClurg, 
 and I never collected that $165 balance either. 
 
 -O- 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 Warm Times Politics. ,y. 
 
 After finishing the work at Cresson I went up to 
 spend a few weeks with my family at Summit House. 
 I was out for a holiday after months of hard work, and 
 we all threw all care to the winds. There were a great 
 number of people there from Pittsburg and Philadel- 
 phia and some from New York, and we soon made 
 friendships, some of them which lasted for years. 
 Among the guests were Alfred Atmore and Captain 
 Patterson from Philadelphia. One evening they 
 dressed me up as a woman and sent me down among 
 the people in the parlor as the 'Svild woman of the Alle- 
 ghenies." I made a poor mouth to the people about 
 having a big family and I had to sell my apples at night 
 as I worked hard at home all day. The people were 
 touched by my story, and I reaped a harvest of nickles, 
 dimes and quarters, until Mrs. Atmore saw the heel 
 of my boot peeking out from under my dress. 
 
144 Warm Times Politically. 
 
 "It's that devil, Owens," she cried, and then the 
 crowd caught me and took all the money they had 
 given me away. 
 
 A few days later Dr. Bell, the mountain physician, 
 took me with him to see his patients and introduced me 
 to them as a famous specialist from Philadelphia. The 
 first patient we visited was an old Irish woman. I 
 felt her pulse and looked at her tongue, then I told her 
 she did not need medicine, but what would do her most 
 good was a baked potatoe and some good cream. Then 
 we went to see an old section hand who was suffering 
 from rheumatism. I advised him to quit drinking 
 whiskey, and to eat rolled oats and milk. 
 
 But we were not always joking that summer. The 
 great question then outside the war was whether the 
 soldiers in the field should vote at the coming election 
 for President. One night we were sitting in the parlor 
 at the Summit house, talking politics as usual, when an 
 old schoolmaster made a foul remark about President 
 Lincoln. I told him if he said the like again I would 
 throw him out of the house. He did say it again, and 
 I went into him like a bull dog, and the next thing he 
 knew he was lying in the middle of the road. 
 
 That ended the incident for the time, but it was re- 
 vived when election day came. I had been in the dis- 
 trict long enougli to vote and I went to the polls with 
 Dr. Bell. The old schoolmaster challenged my vote, 
 but I satisfied the board of my right to a vote, and also 
 told how I had thrown the fellow out of the Summit 
 house. Still the schoolmaster stuck to his story, so 
 the board would not allow us to vote there, thinking- I 
 
Warm Times Politically. 145 
 
 was at the Crescent House. So Dr. Bell and I started 
 for the other district and the crowd around the polls 
 started to follow us, with the schoolmaster in the lead. 
 We got there first and I had my ballot made and voted 
 before the crovv^d with the old man arrived. Dr. Bell 
 decided we had better not return the way we came for 
 fear the crowd would attack us, so vv^e rode back by 
 way of the railroad. We stopped at a tavern to get a 
 glass of ale, and while we were drinking the school- 
 master and his gang came in. 
 
 The schoolmaster came up to me and putting his 
 fist under my nose declared he was as g'ood a man as 
 I was, notwithstanding I had put him out of the Sum- 
 mit house, and I came back with the remark that there 
 was not a man of 145 pounds in the country who could 
 thrash me, and I was not afraid of any man in his 
 crowd. 
 
 Just then a man came up and slapping me on the 
 back declared : 
 
 "I am that man's brother, but if there is to be a 
 fight I will see that you get fair play. If you had taken 
 his bluff I would have been the first man to hit you." 
 
 That ended the trouble, and v/e soon had the 
 schoolmaster's whole crowd drinking with us. Still 
 we were glad to get away, and the doctor said after- 
 ward that he was sure he was going to have a good 
 time patching me up so that the remains would look 
 well in a box. 
 
 The next day four of us went to Altoona to hear 
 the election returns and remained for three days, and 
 
146 Battle in the Courts. 
 
 when we returned our families said they thought we 
 had run away and left them. 
 
 When we got back the doctor took me around to 
 see his patients again. The old woman for whom I 
 had prescribed the potatoe and cream was much better 
 and she pulled out her purse and asked me how much 
 she owed me. 
 
 "I never charge poor people anything," I told her. 
 
 **The Lord will be with you as long as you live," 
 she said fervently. 
 
 We went to see the old fellow with the rheumatism 
 next, but he was not doing so well and I advised him to 
 take more fresh air. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 Battle in the Courts. 
 
 In 1863 I purchased from Andy Fulton some 
 property on Congress street and together we built some 
 houses on it. After finishing this work the Perry prop- 
 erty at Eighth and Duquesne Way fell into my hands 
 I at once began to build nine houses on the rear of it, 
 facing on Maddock's alley. When I had the houses 
 about finished the alley was shut up on the claim that 
 it was private property. I did not pay any attention 
 to it at the time, intending to let it alone till I had the 
 houses finished. Before finishing them I sold two of 
 the houses to the Methodist college on Eighth street, 
 and shortlv later I sold the other seven to J. K. Hamil- 
 
Battle in the Courts. 147 
 
 ton. Lawrence Cramer, one of the college trustees, 
 asked me to take down the fence in front of the proper- 
 ty, and I told him I would when I got ready to take 
 down my own fence. 
 
 After selling the property to Hamilton I went to 
 Washington, Pa., to do some work for Joseph Mc- 
 Knight, and when I returned I met Cramer on Fifth 
 avenue and he told me I had not taken down the Mad- 
 docks alley fence as I had promised. I told him I had 
 no fence of my own to take down now, and the agree- 
 ment had been to take down the fence in the alley when 
 I removed my own. He still claimed I was wrong, so 
 we left the dispute to his father and Abram Patterson, 
 the banker. 
 
 When we told them the story from our different 
 points of view, they agreed that I ought to remove the 
 fence. They declared I had a perfect right to open the 
 alley, and so I agreed to do it. 
 
 Before I was ready to get at the job, I met Hamil- 
 ton, and he asked me to take down his fence at the sam 
 time. He agreed to pay me for the work, and I de- 
 cided I might as well make a clean sweep of the alley 
 fences. 
 
 I had a lot of men working on the mountain for the 
 railroad company and some working at Washington, 
 and I had them, all come to my office Saturday after- 
 noon. I told them what I wanted them to do, and told 
 them to have their tickets read}^ to rush out of town 
 so they would not be arrested. When I got the men 
 all together, I found there were 64 of them, and as each 
 had to have an ax, I went to Joe Woodwell's store and 
 
T4S Battle in the Courts. 
 
 borrowed all he had. He had not enough to go around, 
 and I had to use some hatchets. 
 
 The next move was to get John Stewart, who was 
 a good friend of mine and also of Mayor Sawyer, to 
 take the Mayor out of town. Stewart got the Mayor 
 to go to Squirrel hill to look at a piece of property he 
 owned, and which Stewart talked of buying. When I 
 saw them drive away I knew I was safe from arrest un- 
 til the fences were all down. 
 
 So I took my 64 men to the alley and started them 
 to work. Just as we got started, James Maffett ran 
 out of the house and down to his brother John's plumb- 
 ing shop on Second avenue. They were the men who 
 had closed the alley. When wt were about half through 
 v/ith the work John ^Jaffett came running up with five 
 policemen, including Chief Robert Hugue. The Chief 
 tapped me on the shoulder. 
 
 "Jimmie, I am sorry to have to arrest you," he 
 said. 
 
 ''Well, Bob, you needn't be sorry," I replied, 
 "you've arrested many a better man. What are you 
 going to arrest me for." 
 
 "For raising a riot." 
 
 "I didn't see any riot," I replied. "These men are 
 hired by me to do this work, and they are as quiet as 
 they can be under the circumstances." 
 
 When I had explained what I was doing, he told 
 Maffett there was no chance to arrest me without a 
 warrant, and he asked me to wait till he could see the 
 Mayor, but I told him I was too busy, and I could not 
 be expected to pay men for doing nothing, and simply 
 
Battle in the Courts. 149 
 
 waiting on the convenience of someone who would 
 like to have me run in. 
 
 "Bob, go ahead and arrest him, and I will shoulder 
 the responsibility," said John Maffett. 
 
 "All right, if you fellows want to take the chances 
 of breaking the law," I told them, "go ahead and arrest 
 me), and I won't make you any trouble just now, but 
 you will get all the trouble 3^ou want in the courts." 
 
 I called the people around to witness that I had 
 not raised a riot and then told the men to go ahead with 
 the work. John Maffett's sister, who was standing in 
 the door — we were right in front of his house — shouted 
 out to the policemen, "Just to see you four big ele- 
 phants standing there and letting that little rooster 
 stand off the whole lot of you." 
 
 Everybody laughed, but the men started at their 
 chopping again. An old Southern darkey was cutting 
 dov/n the last post, and a policeman ran up to him and 
 ordered him to stop. Swinging his ax around his head, 
 the negro cried out : 
 
 "Ef you tries to stop me 'fore I gets done doin' 
 Marse Jamie's work, I'll kill you, sho'." 
 
 The fence was soon all down, and we piled it in the 
 wagons and I brought in the mules to haul it away. 
 When it v/as all out of the alley, I hurried the men to 
 their trains so they could get out of town without be- 
 ing arrested. Then I went to David Reid, who was 
 MaflFett's attorney, and hired him in a trespass case I 
 told him I was expecting, but didn't have time just then 
 to explain the details. He took the case, and when he 
 later heard that it was with Maflfett, he refused to act 
 
150 Battle in the Courts. 
 
 for either side, which was exactly what I was after, and 
 it was a big point in my favor, as he was one of the 
 best lawyers in the country. 
 
 When I got home at noon I found a note there 
 telling me I was wanted at the Mayor's office. I knew 
 there was trouble in store for me, so before going to 
 his office, I went to the bank and arranged for Mr. 
 Cramer and Mr. Patterson to be on hand to go on my 
 bond. I told them to be at the Mayor's office at i 130, 
 but not to let him know what they were there for. So 
 they were there on pretence of looking up some city tax _ ^__ 
 cases when I arrived. '; ,- 
 
 When I walked up to the desk, I saw that the 
 Mayor was mad because he had been tricked into going 
 out of town, and he certainly did give me a rough haul- 
 ing over the coals, but I only smiled. That seemed to 
 make him more angry, and he said he would hold me 
 for court under $100,000 bond for committing such a 
 dastardly act. 
 
 ''That is a little strong, your honor," I told him. 
 "Will you allow me to go out and secure bondsmen?" 
 
 ''No I won't," he replied. "I've got you here and 
 I am going to keep you. You will have to get some 
 one else to hunt bondsmen for you." 
 
 Then I turned to Mr. Cramer and asked if he would 
 go on my bond, and he said he certainly would, and 
 then Mr. Patterson said he would also sign the papers. 
 The Mayor looked surprised that I got bond so easily, 
 but as the two men were good for much more than 
 $TOO,ooo, he had to make out the paper and let me go. 
 
Battle in the Courts. 151 
 
 I was not only in for riot cases, 'but I was also sued 
 for trespass, and still they did not let me down. They 
 kept watch for my men, and the following Saturday 
 they arrested the colored driver who had hauled the 
 rubbish out of the alley. They caught him coming over 
 the bridge with a load of sand and took him to jail. 
 They drove the mules to a livery stable. I went to 
 the Mayor's office and bailed the driver out, then de- 
 manded my team. The Mayor said I owed the livery- 
 men 50 cents for feeding the team, but I told him that 
 though the mules were worth $1,000 I would let them 
 rot in the stable before I would pay it. Both he and 
 his officers knew where my stable was located, and they 
 had no authority in law to put the team in a livery 
 barn. 
 
 Later I demanded the team again, and was again 
 refused. So on Monday morning, I entered Replevin 
 against the Mayor for $2,000 damages, and replevined 
 the team. The court issued the writ, and ordered all 
 the parties to the suit and all the articles in question to 
 be brought into court a 10 o'clock. 
 
 One of the mules was very vicious, and when he 
 was being hitched up he almost killed a man, so they 
 could not get anyone to finish hooking the team to the 
 wagon, and came around for my colored man. I would 
 not allow him to go until they paid him $100, and they 
 refused. When it was almost 10 o'clock they came 
 back and paid the $100 and I allowed him to go and 
 bring up the team. I was allowed to take the team 
 without paying the livery bill, and the next case that 
 came up — some five months later — was my damage 
 
152 Battle in the Coiirts. 
 
 suit against the officers. John Scott, a friend of mine, 
 was foreman of the jury. I got a verdict for $i,ooo, and 
 this amount I finally received. Scott held out for 
 $2,000, but finally had to compromise on half the 
 amount. 
 
 The next case was the riot case. I had every one 
 of my 64 men on the witness stand, and won the case, 
 but the jury must have thought I was a little bit guilty, 
 as I had to pay half the costs. 
 
 The tresspass case hung on for five years, but 
 finally came to trial. I had scoured the country for 
 witnesses to prove that the alley had been for years a 
 public highway. On my side I had subpoenaed 168 
 witnesses. The youngest one was Isaac Shaw, who 
 was 66 years old, and the oldest was Mr. Harris, who 
 was 105 years old. I brought four Cornplanter In- 
 dians from New York State who were all more than 
 100 years and had known the alley when it was a canoe 
 path long before Pittsburg had been dreamed of. The 
 case dragg'ed on till the fourth day of the ninth week, 
 when the judges decided that a jury could not settle 
 so intricate a case, and it was taken from the jury and 
 decided by four judges. Again I won, but once more 
 was saddled Vvdth half the costs, which were consid- 
 erable. 
 
 AVhile the suit was going on, the newspapers were 
 all for my side, and one of them at the close said Fort 
 Sumpter had been taken in the form of Maffett's alley 
 by Ov/ens, who had thoroughly cleaned it out. 
 
I Meet Stanton Again. 153 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 I Meet Stanton Again. 
 
 In the spring of 1863 my brother-in-law, Captain 
 David Parkhill, came home from the war with a broken 
 leg. He stayed until he was able to walk on crutches, 
 then took charge of the recruiting office in Pittsburg 
 until his leg got well. Then he was given command 
 of Camp Curtin at Harrisburg. One day a number 
 of his friends from Pittsburg called on him at Camp 
 Curtin. He went into the city with them, and before 
 he got to camp he had had too much of the cup that 
 cheers. While he was gone some wounded soldiers 
 were brought in from Chambersburg, and when he ar- 
 rived at Camp he found one of them on the operating 
 table. The surgeons were preparing to cut off the 
 poor fellow's leg and he was pleading with them not to 
 do it. They paid no attention to him, and were going 
 ahead with the operation when Captain Parkhill or- 
 dered them to stop. 
 
 "You have nothing to do with this matter," de- 
 clared the chief surgeon. 
 
 "I am in command of this camp," replied David, 
 "and you cannot amputate that leg." 
 
 With this he started to clear a way to the operat- 
 ing table to protect the poor fellow, and one of the sur- 
 geons pushed him back. Then the Captain drew his 
 revolver and shot the surgeon in the shoulder. 
 
 The chief surgeon promptly had David put under 
 arrest and they hurried him oflf to the New York "rip- 
 
154 I Meet Stanton Again. 
 
 raps." 
 
 Curtain wired me to come to Harrisburg. 
 
 When I learned of it, I rushed to Harrisburg to see 
 Governor Curtin, with whom I was well acquainted. 
 When I told him how the thing had happened so far as 
 I could learn, the Governor advised me to go to see 
 Secretary of War Stanton. 
 
 "I will give you a letter to Stanton," he told me. 
 
 "I know Secretary Stanton very well," I replied, 
 "having been his roommate when he was studying law 
 in Pittsburg, but I expect your letter will have an in- 
 fluence with him." 
 
 So he gave me the letter, and I hurried off to 
 Washington. At Georgetown I was stopped by the 
 provost guard, but when it was found that I had a let- 
 ter to Stanton from Governor Curtin, a guard was sent 
 with me to Washington. I went direct to the office of 
 the Secretary of War, and as soon as I was announced 
 to him he ordered that I be shown in. He received 
 me as an old friend, but I did not bother about talking 
 about old times, I was anxious that David should be 
 relieved. 
 
 As soon as the Secretary had read the letter and 
 I had told him the circumstances of the arrest of Cap- 
 tain Parkhill, Secretary Stanton wrote out an order for 
 his release and for his return to his regiment. 
 
 Soon after this the regiment was ordered to Vicks- 
 burg, where it was very conspicuous in the defeat of 
 the rebel General Briggs, for which the regiment was 
 given thirty days furlough. After the furlough was 
 over, the regiment was ordered to the front at Rich- 
 
I Meet Stanton Again. 155 
 
 mond, and was in the battle at Fredericksburg. After 
 the town was taken, the regiment went through the 
 banks and robbed them of a large amount of money, 
 but it was all in Confederate bills. David sent me 
 $3,000 of this money, some of which I still have. 
 
 After Captain Parkhill's return from the war he 
 worked for me in this city. 
 
 My brother Matthew was also in the army, having 
 raised a company at Altoona, of which he was made 
 Captain. When the company was formed the Penn- 
 sylvania Railroad Company ofiered to pay the board 
 of the men until they were ordered to the front, but 
 after the company left, the company refused to pay. 
 After Matthew's return he refused to work for the 
 company for that reason, but went to work for the Ft. 
 Wayne road. That road finally became financially 
 embarrassed, and when he quit they owed him some 
 money. 
 
 I got judgment for him against the road, and then 
 had the constable levy on an engine hitched to a train 
 just pulling out of the Allegheny yards. The crew 
 tried to take the train out by force, but we stood by our 
 guns, and they did not dare make a move. Then they 
 sent for the officials of the road, Mr. Cass, the Presi- 
 dent, and Mr. Henderson, Superintendent, came over 
 to see what could be done. They made all sorts of 
 promises, but what I wanted was money, and at last 
 they gave me a check for the full amount of the claim 
 and the costs. I was afraid they would stop payment 
 on the check before it could be cashed, and so I refused 
 to take anything but the money. Mr. Henderson 
 
156 I Meet Stanton Again. 
 
 went to the bank and got the money for me. Then 
 they said they would never have anything to do with 
 me again. 
 
 But on the following Monday they left orders to 
 have the Fifth avenue office papered and I was sent for. 
 When I was about half through with the work Mr. 
 Henderson came in. 
 
 "What are you doing here?" he demanded. 
 
 "Doing a little job of papering," I replied. 
 
 "Who sent for you?" he asked. 
 
 "Mr. Palmer," I told him, "and I am going to 
 finish the job." 
 
 He said nothing more and went out. When I got 
 the job finished, I handed in my bill and was paid with- 
 out a word. 
 
 Mr. Cass held his enmity toward me all his life, 
 but Mr. Henderson and I afterward became good 
 friends. 
 
 In the battle of the Wilderness my brother Mat- 
 thew had the ground shot out from under him and he 
 was dropped down into a hole up to his knees. He 
 stood still, afraid to move for fear he v/ould bleed to 
 death, believing his legs were both shot ofif just below 
 the knee. He remained there till the ambulance corps 
 came along gathering up the wounded. When he was 
 picked up out of the hole to be put in the ambulance 
 and carried to the rear, it was found that the only 
 wound he sustained was the heel being- shot of¥ of one 
 boot, and his heel skinned a little. That was for years 
 the chief joke l^.Iatthevs^ had to tell on himself when re- 
 counting his war experiences. 
 
Brother Robert's Trouble. 157 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 Brother Robert's Trouble. 
 
 My Brother Robert, whom I brought from Balti- 
 more in 1859, also enlisted in the army. He first en- 
 listed in 1861 for ninety days, then for three years and 
 at last for the time of the war. Before his time was 
 finally out he was sent to me from Philadelphia, by a 
 man who was with him, insane from a wound he had 
 received in battle. I tried to get the government to 
 take charge of him and care for him, and spent a great 
 deal of money in the endeavor, but failed. I also tried 
 to get a pension for him, but again was unsuccessful. 
 I had witnesses from my brother's regiment, but that 
 did no good as the special examiner sent did not report 
 favorably on the case. 
 
 When I found that the government would 'uo noth- 
 ing for Robert, I tried to keep him at my house, but he 
 became so bad that I could not keep him there any 
 longer, so took him to Dixmont. I had to pay the 
 management in advance for caring for him. In 1874, 
 after he had been in Dixmont several years, money 
 got pretty hard to get, and I was in a serious financial 
 fix. As a result I was three days late in making one 
 of the payments. 
 
 When I went down to the asylum they took my 
 money, and then I asked to be allowed to see Robert. 
 I waited around for six hours for him to be brought in, 
 but at last they told me he had been out in the yard and 
 had run away. They said they would be sure to find 
 
158 Brother Robert's Trouble. 
 
 him, and though I stayed around until evening, he was 
 not found. I then went home telling the management 
 that I would be back again and for them to let me 
 know the next day if he was found. 
 
 A couple of days later John Miller came to me and 
 said a man locked up in the Allegheny police station 
 was probably Ro'bert. I went over and found him 
 there raving crazy. At first the officers would not let 
 me in to see him. but at last I got in and bathed his 
 head in cold water, and thus got him quieted down. I 
 asked him how he came to run away, and he told mc 
 the asylum management had put him out because I was 
 late in bringing the money for his keeping. I then 
 took him home with me again, and he seemed contend- 
 ed and happy for a short time, but he later became 
 worse again, and he realized the condition he was in. 
 So he went to the Homeopathic Hospital, and then 
 sent for me to arrange for his keeping. I arranged to 
 pay the hospital $6 a week. But he was not there long 
 until he became unmanageable again. 
 
 One night the hospital manager sent for me, but 
 before I arrived, they had sent Robert to the police 
 station. He had become so bad that it required six 
 policemen to take him away. I followed him to the 
 station, and by bathing his head in cold water I soon 
 had him quieted down and he went home with me 
 again. It always seemed that he would be easily 
 managed while I was around. He always knew me, 
 and felt that I was doing my best to relieve him. But 
 when I had him at home I could not be with him all the 
 
Brother Robert's Trouble. 159 
 
 time and 1 would worry when I was away for fear that 
 he would do something while I was not around. 
 
 I knew Christ Braun, who kept the poor house, and 
 I decided that perhaps he could take care of him. 
 Braun told me to bring Robert out and he would do his 
 best for him. I took him out there and he did very 
 well for a couple of years, but he seemed to be break- 
 ing down physically as well as mentally, and at last I 
 brought him to my home again, but the excitement in 
 the city was too great for him, and the noise seemed to 
 greatly worry him, so I took him to the home of my 
 sister, who lived in the Sciota Valley in Ohio. He 
 only lived a short while after that, and his mind never 
 thoroughly cleared. 
 
 Thus even though I did not go to the war, I felt 
 that I had carried as large a burden as most of those 
 who did. I had two brothers and a brother-in-law in 
 the army, and not one of them escaped unscathed, and 
 each I had to help when they were sent home, and yet 
 I could not get the government to do what all thought 
 was its plain duty by Robert, who was driven insane 
 through suffering and lack of care when he was wound- 
 ed. He had always been a bright lad, and there was 
 no taint of insanity in him before he joined the army. 
 His health had always been of the best, and his trouble 
 was entirely due to the Vv^ounds he received. 
 
160 I Try the Oil Business. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 I Try the Oil Business. 
 
 In 1863, in the fall of the year, my wife's health 
 became poor and I decided that country air would help 
 her, so I sold out my contracting business and decided 
 to try to make my fortune in oil. There was great 
 excitement in oil then, and stories floated in of great 
 fortunes to be made. I formed a partnership with my 
 cousin, James B. Scott and Lucien Livingston. I 
 moved to the oil country to look after the business and 
 Livingston went with me to assist. We bought land 
 in that section of Venango county that is now a part 
 of Forest county. I built a house on the land at a 
 place called Hickory and moved my family there. 
 
 Each of the three partners put in $50,000 and we 
 commenced drilling at once. At the end of the first 
 year we had drilled a good many wells and had found 
 no oil, so Scott got dissatisfied and left the company 
 with a loss to him of $17,000. Livingston and I went 
 on with the business for two years, still with poor suc- 
 cess. When his father died Livingston drew out, at 
 a loss of $37,300 and left me to go on with the business. 
 I didn't give it up after losing so much money and I 
 continued till that fall. Then, I figured up how I 
 stood, and found that after paying all that I owed I 
 would have just $444 left. In the few months that I 
 had been going it alone in the oil business I had drilled 
 seven wells, and my total loss for the few years that 
 

 *jwC^ ,* 
 
 hlltif 
 
 A "Friend in Need*^ Hundreds of Times to the Author 
 
I Try the Oil Business. 161 
 
 1 had tried to make my fortune in oil had cost me near- 
 ly $65,000. 
 
 I decided I had enough of that business and pre- 
 pared at once to come back to Pittsburg and return to 
 my old trade. I was in pretty bad financial shape, but 
 knew I could always make a living at contracting and 
 that was better than I seemed able to do in oil. 
 
 I was getting along fairly well and had layed 
 away a little money, but I was always doing the wrong 
 thing at the wrong time, in the way of helping friends. 
 I don't know how many times I had gone on notes, 
 only to have them to pay, and each time I would de- 
 clare that I would never do it again. But in 1874 a 
 friend asked me to go on his paper to the amount of 
 $17,000, and as I felt that he was perfectly good, I did 
 so. It proved to be the same old story, and I had the 
 amount to pay, thus putting me back almost to the 
 point where I started after leaving my little forune in 
 oil. 
 
 When I got back to Pittsburg I found work rather 
 slack, and I was unable to bid on the big contract be- 
 cause of my crippled financial condition, so I decided 
 to go to Greensburg and see what I could do. But it 
 did not take me long to find out that there v/as no 
 chance for me there and I returned to Pittsburg and 
 did the best I could, which was not a brilliant success 
 for some time. I tried various things, but could not 
 make them go, and finally went back to my old trade 
 again, and got along pretty well until in 1874 I en- 
 dorsed the note of a friend for $17,000, which I had to 
 
1G2 I Try the Oil Business. 
 
 pay, and this put me back again to where I had started 
 after my venture in oil. 
 
 One thing I did while looking for an opening after 
 I came back from Greensburg was putting up fancy 
 fly paper in bar*ber shops and bars, and I managed to 
 scrape together quite a little money at that. I trav- 
 eled around to the small cities doing this work, and had 
 some peculiar experiences. I had been knocking 
 around the country with indifferent success for a num- 
 ber of days, and was at Parker's Landing one night 
 when I met a man who was selling prize candy. That, 
 is, he would place a $5 gold piece in one box, mix up 
 the boxes and sell them all for fifty cents each. He 
 would tell the people that whoever got the box con- 
 taining the gold piece was $5 ahead, as the candy was 
 worth fifty cents. 
 
 While I was talking to him that evening he asked 
 me to help him with his business and he would help me 
 with mine. I agreed, and we went out on the street 
 and he soon had a crowd around. He was to swing 
 the package containing the money around his head 
 three times, and I would know by this that that was 
 the package for me to buy. When the crowd was 
 thick around him, I walked up and made a purchase. 
 I tried to get aAvay through the crowd, but everybody 
 demanded that I open the candy. I finally consented, 
 and there lay the $5. After that the crowd could not 
 buy the stuff fast enough, and my friend was soon sold 
 out and had to send to Pittsburg for a new stock. 
 
 The next day, while waiting for a new stock, he 
 turned in to help me dispose of the fly paper. He went 
 
I Try the Oil Business. 163 
 
 into a bariber shop to get shaved, and while he was in 
 the chair I dropped in with my grip in my hand. He 
 glanced over me and asked me what I was doing. 
 
 'Tutting up fly paper," I replied. 
 
 ''This shop ought to have some, for I have been 
 almost eaten up by the flies while being shaved. 
 
 The barber promptly said he would take $5 worth, 
 and I put it up before I got shaved. Before I was 
 through with the job Ben. Hogan came in and said he 
 had been looking for some one to do a similar job for 
 him for two years. I quickly closed the deal and put 
 $184 worth in his bar. 
 
 After supplying everybody in Parker's Landing, 
 (I got about $360 out of the place), we went to Frank- 
 lin, but neither of us did very well there. Then we 
 went to Tidioutte, and we both did a good business. 
 
 On the morning I left Tidiouette for Pittsburg, 
 after my friend the candy man had started for New- 
 York, I was standing in the door of the hotel, when a 
 farmer came along with a wagon load of of friut. He 
 He had a big raccoon tied under the wagon and a sign 
 on the wagon that said : "Try your dog." Just as 
 the wagon was passing the hotel a big Newfoundland 
 dog ran out of a cobbler shop on the other side of the 
 street and killed Mr. 'Coon at one shake. The farmer 
 grew very angry, and said that was not the kind of a 
 dog he wanted put against the coon. 
 
 I walked into the cobbler shop to see if I could 
 not buy the dog, for I wanted just such an animal to 
 leave at home with mv wife and children. When I 
 
164 I Try the Odl Business. 
 
 asked the cobbler, who was a German, if he owned the 
 dog that killed the coon, he thought I was an officer. 
 
 ''Yah, I owns dot dog, but I sells him," he replied. 
 
 So I bought the dog for $io, and when I was about 
 to leave a pup that was so fat it could hardly wobble 
 came into the room, and I asked the Dutchman what 
 he would take for the pup. 
 
 "Fifteen tollers." he replied. 
 
 "All right," I said, and I handed him the money. 
 
 When I got out into the street, he followed me and 
 wanted to give me the money and keep both dogs, but 
 I wouldn't go back on the bargain and brought both 
 dogs home with me. The pup grew up to be most in- 
 telligent, and we trained him to go to market with a 
 basket and he never failed to come back with the stuflf 
 w^anted. 
 
 One day I was out hunting rabbits and when I 
 got almost home the dog ran ahead as though he 
 were mad, and I followed him as fast as I could run, 
 fearing that he would bite someone. When I got to 
 the back yard I found him standing with his front paws 
 on the shoulders of as villianous looking tramp as I 
 ever saw. I had to go up carefully, for fear he would 
 kill the fellow, and finally got him away. Then my 
 wife came to the door and told me the tramp had or- 
 dered her to get some coi¥ee and a sandwich for him, 
 and she was afraid of the fellow, and was doing what 
 he ordered. 
 
 I took the tram.p to the woodpile and told him to 
 cut some wood as that would give him an appetite. I 
 told him the harder he worked the more he could eat. 
 
A Queer Neighbor. 165 
 
 He tried all sorts of excuses to get away without 
 working, but I would not let up on him. I told him he 
 would have to earn whatever he got to eat in that 
 house. Finally I told him he might go, and if he 
 didn't make tracks in a hurry I would let the dog get 
 at him. And he did make tracks. I followed to see 
 that he did not go to the house of one of my neighbors, 
 but he never stopped running till he was out of sight. 
 
 We were not bothered with tramps for two years 
 after that. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XLH. 
 A Queer Neighbor. 
 
 The little while that I had lived in Greensburg 
 after my return from the oil country convinced me that 
 that was a better place for my family than in Pittsburg, 
 and as I could attend to business in Pittsburg and go 
 back and forth on the train, I decided as soon as I had 
 gotten a little money ahead to buy me a home there. 
 I bought just the place I wanted on the edge of town 
 in 1869, and moved my family there. We found it 
 very much more pleasant than living in the city, and it 
 was a great relief to me at the close of the day's work 
 to go away from the city and find a little home in the 
 country awaiting me. 
 
 The new home was practically in the country and 
 we could keep a horse and cow and some chickens, so 
 that we had all the luxuries of farm life, together with 
 the comforts of a ci^"v. 
 
166 A Queer Neighbor. 
 
 Pretty soon after moving into the new home, we 
 got a new neighbor, and he was about the queerest 
 specimen of humanity I ever ran across. He was a 
 man from the West, and had married the daughter of 
 a man whose farm was next to my place. The West- 
 erner, whose name was Ruth, had brought a team of 
 plain's ponies East with him, and he would drive them 
 like mad up and down the road. He paid little atten- 
 tion to bars and fences, but would break down what- 
 ever was in his way and drive on. One of my dogs 
 took a great dislike to the fellow and would run after 
 him whenever he passed, and Ruth would take out his 
 revolver and fire into the air to frighten the dog. My 
 children were afraid he was trying to kill the dog and 
 would run out and bring him in. One Saturday, when 
 I got home, my wife said we would have to move away, 
 for she feared Ruth would kill the dogs or one of the 
 children. 
 
 The following Saturday I went home earlier than 
 usual and was working near the road, when Ruth came 
 tearing down the road behind his wild horses. 
 
 "Good evening," I said as he passed, but he never 
 stopped, only grunted at me. The following Saturday 
 I was working in the same place, when he came along, 
 and stopped when I spoke to him. 
 
 "This is a fine place, you have here." he said. 
 
 "Yes, I think I will have a fine place when I get 
 it fixed to suit me," I replied, and he passed on. 
 
 The next Thursday was Thanksgiving, and before 
 my hired man went away that morning I had him put 
 six barrels of apples into the wagon. 
 
A Queer Neighbor. 167 
 
 "What are you going to do with those apples?" 
 asked my wife, who was in the barn getting some eggs. 
 
 ''Going to take them over to Mrs. Ruth," I told 
 her. 
 
 "Don't you do any such thing," she said. "That 
 man Ruth will shoot you." 
 
 I started off with the apples, nevertheless, and 
 when I got in front of Ruth's blacksmith shop he was 
 at work. When he saw me driving past, he came to 
 the door. 
 
 "The roads are pretty bad," he said, "and you will 
 find them worse when you reach the county road." 
 
 "I am not worried about the county road," I told 
 him, "for I am not going any further. I brought these 
 apples over to Mrs. Ruth." 
 
 "We don't need any apples," he said. 
 
 "I brought them to Mrs. Ruth and not to you, and 
 I'll let her decide the matter," I said. "I know if she 
 had more apples than she needed she would send some 
 to my wife." 
 
 So he went to the house and he helped me put the 
 apples away. We went into the house and had a 
 little talk. He said he thought I needed a new barn, 
 and I told him I intended to build one after awhile. 
 He told me there was a stone quarry back of his house 
 and I could have all the stone I wanted for nothing. 
 I told him I was then too busy and was away from 
 home all week, but when I got ready I would be glad 
 to get the stone from him. 
 
 The following Monday I went to Washington to do 
 some work on the county jail, and when I got back at 
 
168 A Queer Neigtibor. 
 
 the end of the week, I found that Ruth had the stone 
 hauled to the place for the foundation for the barn. 
 
 **I thought I told you I was not ready to build that 
 barn," I told him. 
 
 ''Well, the stone is there for you when ever you 
 get ready to build," he replied, "and the stone and labor 
 won't cost you a cent." 
 
 Having the stone there, I had my masons come 
 over and lay the foundation. Then I covered it over 
 to leave it till I had time to finish the job. Then I 
 went away and was gone two weeks. When I re- 
 turned Ruth had the timbers for the barn hewn and 
 ready to be put up. He had bought the timber from 
 a neighbor for a cent a foot. I left the timbers lying 
 where he pad put them and covered them up. Then I 
 went to Altoona to do some work for Bell & Davis, and 
 was gone about five weeks. When I got back to 
 Greensburg I hardly recognized my place, for there 
 was a new barn and Ruth was just finishing the roof. 
 I remonstrated with him, but it did no good. He said 
 that was the way they did things in the West. When 
 a man needed a new building all his neighbors joined 
 in to help on it, and he would pay them back in the 
 sam.e way : He would not take anything for the stone 
 or the work he had done, and all the new barn cost me 
 was the price of the lumber put into it. 
 
 Ruth and I became the best of friends after this, 
 and every few days he would drive up and take the chil- 
 dren or me out for a good time. But after awhile he 
 
Turning Point in Health. 169 
 
 became tired of Greensburg, said there were too many 
 people around to suit him, and he west West again. 
 Thus I lost one of the best friends I ever had. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 Turning Point in Health. 
 
 In 1867 I got the rheumatism and neuralgia so bad 
 that I could not work, and my doctor advised me to go 
 to the seashore for a few months. I went to Atlantic 
 City, and the first morning I went into the surf. When 
 I got out I was chilled through, and could hardly talk. 
 I thought I was going to die right there, but after I 
 got into my clothes and walked about in the warm sun 
 awhile, I felt better. The next day I was going into 
 the water again, but met two women who happened to 
 see me the day before, and one of them spoke to me 
 about it. 
 
 "You should not go into the water in the condi- 
 tion you are in," she told me. 
 
 "My doctor advised it," I told her. 
 
 "I don't care what the doctor said," she replied, 
 "It is certainly very bad for you. 
 
 "What is a fellow going to do?" I asked her. "I 
 can't live long in this condition anyhow. 
 
 "If I were in your condition," she said, "I would 
 go to Drs. Hall and Thrall in New York. They have 
 at herapeutic hospital with hot baths, and if any one 
 can do you any good they can." 
 
170 Turning Point in Health. 
 
 ''I'll take your advice," I said. She gave me the 
 address of the doctors, and I started for New York that 
 afternoon. I went straight to the institute, and Dr. 
 Hall met me at the door. I told him what I wanted, 
 and he ordered a colored attendant to take me to a 
 room where I was to lie down and rest. 
 
 After awhile the doctor came in. He felt my 
 pulse and asked me numberless questions, then told 
 me I had a stong constitution, and thought I was in a 
 pretty bad shae he couud cure me. 
 
 ''Are you sure you can cure me?" I asked him. 
 
 ''How much will you give me if we fix you up?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "I have $1 GOG with me, and if you cure me the 
 money is yours," I told him. "What security will you 
 give that you don't kill me?" 
 
 "How much security do you want," he asked. 
 
 "Ten thousand dollars," I replied. 
 
 "All right, ril give bond. Do you know anyone 
 in town?" he asked. 
 
 I did not remember knowing any one in the city, 
 till the names of Mr. Patterson and Mr. Atmore, whom 
 I had met at Cresson a few years before, occurred to 
 me, and I told him I would like them on the bond. Dr. 
 Hall knew both of them, and he got them to go on the 
 bond. 
 
 That evening they gave me a lemon to suck, as my 
 only supper, and as I hadn't eaten anything all day, it 
 was a mighty slim supper, but as Dr. Hall had given 
 bond to fix me up I was willing to do what they wanted 
 me to. The following morning my breakfast consist- 
 
Turning Point in Health. 171 
 
 ed of one orange, which I was told to suck, but not to 
 swallow the pulp. Two colored attendants then came 
 and gave me a thorough cleaning out inside, and then 
 put me in a warm bath and gave me an exterior clean- 
 ing. Then I was put to bed, and I slept till about 4 
 p. m. When I awoke I was given another orange, and 
 that was all I got to eat until the next morning, when I 
 was given a little gruel without milk, but with the juice 
 of a lemon squeezed over it. 
 
 At 9 o'clock that morning I was given the same 
 cleansing treatment as the morning before and a 2 
 o'clock in the afternoon two colored men brought in a 
 box-like affair, in which they put me, leaving only my 
 head sticking out. My feet were placed in a steaming 
 hot basin of water and a saucer of alcohol was placed 
 under my chair and set on fire. The box was shut 
 up tight, and I was given an electric battery treatment 
 as v/ell. The doctor stood beside me all the time and 
 held my pulse, until he thought I was properly stewed 
 and electrocuted. Then I was taken out of the box 
 and placed in a tub of hot water and was given the best 
 scrubbing I ever had in my life. When they took me 
 out of the tub they layed me on a table and rubbed me 
 with Turkish towels until their arms were tired. Next 
 on the program of their morning's amusement was to 
 smoothe down what little skin the towels had left on 
 my body. Then they went at me again with the tow- 
 els for awhile, and next they put clean clothes on me 
 and put me to bed. If ever I felt like a baby it was 
 after that morning's performance. 
 
172 Turning Point in Health. 
 
 But it did me a world of good. I was completely 
 tired out and I went to sleep and slept soundly for 
 hours. When I awoke I was given some fruit and a 
 little later some very palatable soup, though it had no 
 grease or salt in it. Still I was hungry enough to have 
 eaten almost anything, hungrier than I had been in 
 months. 
 
 Every day for five days I was put through the 
 stewing process, and I was feeling the good effects 
 from my treatment all the time. At the end of three 
 weeks I was so much better that the doctor said he be- 
 lieved he could trust me to go home if I would follow 
 out his instructions to the letter. He said if I would 
 continue to stew myself daily, and take only such food 
 as he advised I would soon be all right again. 
 
 When I was ready to go, Dr. Hall called me into 
 his office and asked me if I thought I had gotten my 
 thousand dollars worth of health. (I had given him 
 the money as soon as he had fixed up the bond to cure 
 me.) 
 
 ''I certainly am satisfied for you to keep the 
 money," I told him. 
 
 After we had talked a little while and he had given 
 me minute directions to care for myself at home, he ex- 
 cused himself and went out of the room. Pretty soon 
 he came back and handed me $750. 
 
 "The balance will pay us very well for what we 
 have done for you," he said, "I only accepted the $1,000 
 to see if you had any confidence in us." 
 
 I insisted that I had made a bargain with him and 
 he should keep the money, but he wouldn't do it. I then 
 
Turning Point in Health. 173 
 
 gave him back the bond he had given to cure me, say- 
 ing that I would have made him pay the $10,000 if he 
 had failed to cure me. 
 
 He gave me a drawing of the sweat box I was to 
 make and use after I came home, and I left New York, 
 fully satisfied with the result of my three weeks stay. 
 
 My home was on Wiley avenue at that time, and 
 an old preacher Avho lived close by had the same trouble 
 that I had had. I told him how I had been fixed up 
 and he wanted to try it. I put him in the box, and he 
 was nearly dead when I began the treatment on him. 
 He fainted during the first treatment, and I thought 
 he had died on my hands and Avas pretty badly scared; 
 but he came around all right after awhile, and he in- 
 sisted on continuing with the treatment. I consented 
 to keep it up, and it soon began to do him a world of 
 good. He had a strong constitution and he came 
 through the sweating and rubbing process in fine shape, 
 and was soon almost as good as a new man. My suc- 
 cess with the preacher made me think I was a pretty 
 good doctor, but I never tried to get any other patients. 
 All I would give any one after that was advice, but 
 there are so m.any people in the world with a surplus of 
 advice on their minds that I never got rich disposing 
 of what I had. 
 
 Dr. Hall had made me give up smoking, drinking 
 and cofifee when I was in his institute, and I found that 
 all those things were injurious to me, as they undoubt- 
 edly are to most men. My illness had resulted from a 
 combination of those things together with the work I 
 had been doing in the open air in all kinds of weather, 
 
174 1 Have a Strike on My Hands. 
 
 and I decided as I could not entirely give up the work, 
 1 would have to give up the dissipations, and I did. 1 
 have been happier and better in health ever since 1 
 gave up those foolish things which I had been taught 
 were pleasures. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 I Have a Strike on i\Iy Hands. 
 
 In the second year of the first administration of 
 President Cleveland, the bricklayers in Pittsburg 
 struck for $5 a da}^ and the carpenters for an eight-hour 
 day at the wages they had been getting. I did not al- 
 low my men to quit work, because I had some contracts 
 that had to be finished, and the difference in the pay 
 cost me less than to lose the contracts. I agreed with 
 my men to put the difference of pay in the Dollar Sav- 
 ings Bank, and if the other men won, I was to pay 
 them when the strike was ended. 
 
 I had thus kept my men working for about two 
 weeks, when I was called up before the Master Build- 
 ers' Association, of which I was a member, to account 
 for v/hat I was paying my men. I promptly told them 
 the arrangement I had made, and they appointed a 
 committee to meet at tlie Builders' Exchange to inves- 
 tigate the matter. 
 
 I went to the exchange rooms at the appointed 
 hour and saw two fellows sitting there, and wondered 
 what business thev had there. One of them, when I 
 

 THEO, A. MOTHERAL. 
 Union Insurance Co. 
 
I Have a Strike on My Hands. 175 
 
 asked, told me they were the committee to investigate 
 me. When I heard their names, I knew they were not 
 builders at all, but got to be members through the fact 
 that their fathers had been. When I asked them 
 what trade they had worked at they just said they were 
 the committee. 
 
 "When you want to inquire into my business you 
 will have to appoint a committee of mechanics," I told 
 them and started down stairs. 
 
 They called me back to see the other members of 
 the committee, and I went back to see what they had to 
 say. They talked for a little while without seeming 
 to know what they were after. 
 
 'T thought a man had to be a master mechanic to 
 be a member of this exchange," I finally said, becom- 
 ing exasperated at the ignorance of the committee, 
 "Since anyone can be a member who chooses, I won't 
 have anything more to do with the organization." 
 
 I then went to the secretary's desk and asked how 
 much I owed. He told me I had paid a quarter in ad- 
 vance. I told him to mark my name off the books, as 
 I would never belong to the organization again. 
 
 "You can't get out as easy as that," he said. "The 
 organization will shut down on you, and you won't be 
 able to purchase any supplies." 
 
 "I'll go to California for supplies before I belong 
 to such an organization as this," I told him, and I 
 walked indignantly out of the room, and never entered 
 the place again. 
 
176 I Have a Strike on My Hands. 
 
 I soon found that there would be no trouble for 
 me to get anything I wanted, the dealers seeming most 
 anxious to sell their stuff and get the money. 
 
 About three weeks after the affair at the Builders' 
 Exchange, I was sitting in my office when a well- 
 dressed gentlemanly appearing fellow came in and ask- 
 ed if I were Mr. Owens. I admitted the fact, and he 
 asked me if I could do all the bricklaying I could get. 
 I told him I could get all the bricklayers I wanted. He 
 continued to talk about the matter till the time came 
 for me to keep an engagement at the Ferguson build- 
 ing. I told him I had to go, and for him to come to 
 see me whenever he had any work to do. I would 
 guarantee to attend to it in good time. 
 
 Then he threw off the mask, and told me he was 
 sent here from Chicago by the bricklayer's union to 
 settle the trouble. 
 
 "Get right out of my office," I told him when I 
 found out who he was. 
 
 "I'll get out when I get ready," he replied. 
 
 "You are most mightly likely to get out before 
 you are ready," I said, as I stepped out of the door and 
 picked up a shovel that one of the men had left when 
 he went to dinner. 
 
 Jumping back into the office I hit the fellow on 
 the head and knocked him sprawling out of the door. 
 I followed, intending to hit him again, but he was too 
 supple for me and got away. But I was never bother- 
 ed with walking delegates in my office after that affair 
 became known. 
 
I Have a Strike on My Hands. 177 
 
 About a week or ten days later I had some plaster- 
 ing to- do on Fourth avenue and I was going down to 
 look at the work, when I saw two men who were 
 walking delegates going into the building. One of 
 them was James McVicker, who had worked for me, 
 but whom I had discharged because he was absolutely 
 incompetent to do anything like good work. 
 
 When I went into the building Jim wias on the 
 scaffold and the other fellow was on the floor. I or- 
 dered the man on the floor to get out of the building 
 and he went. Then I told Jim to get down off that 
 scaffold, and to lose lio time about it. He said he was 
 only talking to one of the men, but I told him what he 
 was doing was not the point, that I wanted him to get 
 out. He had worked for me long enough to know that 
 I meant what I said, and he started down the ladder. 
 
 As he was climbing down, I picked up a shovel 
 that was standing in a barrel of white skim and struck 
 him and knocked him off the ladder. With a yell, he 
 ran out, covered with skim. 
 
 I was always perfectly willing to pay men the best 
 wages, for thereby I got the 'best workmen, but I also 
 meant to run m.y business without the assistance of the 
 walking delegates. After those two affairs, I had 
 little trouble from them. 
 
 Shortly after this, I got the contract for cleaning 
 and blueing St. Peter's Church at the corner of Dia- 
 mond and Grant streets. I wanted to get the work 
 done before a certain Sunday and went up to help the 
 men, because it was slow work and some of the men 
 were afraid, as the}^ had to work on very high ladders. 
 
178 I Have a Strike on My Hands. 
 
 I was working on one of the ladders when some 
 Irishmen who worked on the railroad came in. They 
 had just been paid and were pretty full of whisky. They 
 knelt down near the foot of my ladder in a bunch and 
 began to pray. 
 
 It was too good an opportunity for me to lose, and 
 I "accidentally" dropped my bucket of blueing down 
 among them. The ladder was about thirty feet high, 
 and when the bucket struck the floor the stuff splashed 
 all over the crowd. The Irishmen jumped and yelled, 
 and ran out of the church as though the devil were pur- 
 suing them. 
 
 ''Jimmie, they might have pulled the ladder out 
 from under you and killed you," said one of the men at 
 work. 
 
 "li they had I would have jumped on top of one 
 of them and that would have broken my fall and brok- 
 en the fellow's head," I replied. "Anyhow, they are 
 too cowardly to ever hurt anybody." 
 
 ril bet those fellows didn't say their prayers for a 
 year without thinking of the bucket of blueing, and 
 looked around to see if another one was coming. 
 
 The preacher and one of the committee came in 
 before we quit work that evening, and I told them 
 about the ''accident." I thought the preacher would 
 hurt himself laughing as I described how the bucket 
 landed and what the fellows looked like as the ran 
 through the door of the church. 
 
'Only Book in the World." 179 
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 ''Only Book in the World." 
 
 In 1856 I came ino possession of a book which any 
 man might be proud to own. It is a history of England 
 by William Augustus Russel, of which all copies but 
 the one I own was destroyed by order of the British 
 government. The book was published in 1777, and al- 
 most more curious than the book itself is its history. 
 
 Russel was not a particular lover of the English 
 government of the time, and the way he exposed the 
 falacies and crimes of the rulers did not suit King 
 George III and his ministers, and the book was ordered 
 destroyed. But 100 copies of the book had been deliv- 
 ered to the subscribers when the edict for its destruc- 
 tion went forth, and as the name of the subscribers 
 were printed in the back of the book it was easy for 
 the government's agents to trace and destroy them. 
 The books that had not been delivered were confiscated 
 in the publishing house and burned. Russel was ar- 
 rested, and the Encyclopedia Britanica says he was 
 released after a terrn of years in London Tower, and 
 died in obscurity in Scotland. But tradition says hr 
 was beheaded for his attacks on the government, and 
 without trial. 
 
 But there was one book which escaped the gov- 
 ernment, and that book I have owned since 1856. Dr. 
 James Addison was one of the subscribers for the book, 
 and he had arranged to sail for America. It so hap- 
 pened that the day his copy of the history was delivered 
 
180 "Only Book in the World." 
 
 to him, he took ship, and thus one, and only one, copy 
 of this great book escaped. 
 
 Dr. Addison at last located in Pittsburg, and here 
 he became one of the noted early day physicians of the 
 city. He lived until 1856, and after his death his effects 
 were sold at auction in the settlement of the estate. 
 Dr. xA-ddison and I had been friends, and I had often 
 been shown the book which he prized so highly. When 
 the day of the sale arrived I attended, bent on securing 
 the book. One of his son-in-laws was also anxious to 
 get the book, and I knew I would have trouble in se- 
 curing it. So I went to the auctioneer, who was a 
 friend of mine, and told him what I w^as looking for. 
 He promised to help me out, and he did. 
 
 The book was put up after the sale had been going 
 on for an hour or so, and the bidding started at $5 and 
 soon ran up to $16, the son-in-law of Dr. Addison and 
 myself being the only bidders. At last it was knocked 
 dovx'n and marked sold, then the auctioneer transferred 
 his operations to another room. He called to me, and 
 told me to go in and pay his clerk $17 and take the 
 book, as the son-in-law had bid $16. I did and took the 
 book home with me at once. 
 
 lliat evening v/hen I reached home, I saw the 
 other bidder for the book there waiting for me. He de- 
 manded the book, but I declined to give it to him, tell- 
 ing him that he would have to see the auctioneer as 
 he had accepted my bid. He went to see the auction- 
 eer, but got no satisfaction, and the book was mine. 
 I went to Dr. Addison's daughter the next day and told 
 
''Only Book in the World." 181 
 
 her she could have the book if she desired, but she told 
 me to keep it, so I did. 
 
 The history of the book was printed in the Pitts- 
 burg Dispatch in 1858, when Aaron Foster and Daniel 
 O'Neill were the proprietors of that paper, and thus it 
 became known. Later the story was again printed in 
 the Dispatch and it became known in England that the 
 book was in existence, although the Encyclopedia 
 Britanica still insists that all copies of it were destroy- 
 ed. The circulation of that story in England brought 
 me a visitor from across the sea. 
 
 In 1877 ^^ Englishman, who called himself Prof. 
 Stephens, and said he was from Tynne, England, came 
 to Pittsburg and told me he wanted to see me in regard 
 to some property left me in County Entrim, Ireland, 
 I told him there were older heirs for that property than 
 myself, and as it was entailed I had no claim on it, but 
 Stephens was persistent and remained in Pittsburg for 
 some time. I took him to my home, and he asked for 
 something to read. I showed him the book case and 
 told him to help himself. After looking over the rows 
 of books he picked out the Russel history and began to 
 read it. He remained at my place for several days, and 
 spent most of his time with the history. 
 
 After he first looked over the book, he oflfered me a 
 good price for it, but I told him it was not for sale. He 
 raised the amount of his offer, but I still refused. From 
 one offer he went to another, until at last he asked : 
 
 "Will you take $17,000 for the book?" 
 
 I laughed at him. 
 
182 "Only Book in the World." 
 
 ''There's no use discussing the question," I told 
 him. 'T won't sell the book tO' you, and you might as 
 well drop the subject." 
 
 The following morning when I was ready to come 
 to town, Stephens said he would remain at the house, 
 as he wanted to finish reading the history. I thought 
 his manner strange, and while I was on the way to the 
 depot, I got anxious about it and returned. I was 
 afraid he would leave while I was in the city and would 
 take the book with him. 
 
 When I reached the house my wife told me Ste- 
 phens was up in his room and had the history with him. 
 I went up stairs, and there he was with the book, and 
 he had the lamp burning, though it was broad day 
 light. I took the book from his hands, and told him I 
 wanted him to get out of my house as fast as he could. 
 It looked to me as though he intended to destroy the 
 book, or at least burn part of it, so that it would be 
 valueless. 
 
 I ordered my man to take Stephens in the buggy 
 and take him to the depot, and I never wanted to see 
 him again. I went to town and took the took with me, 
 and for a time I kept it in a safe-deposit vault, until 
 all danger of its being stolen passed. 
 
 A number of my friends whom I have allowed to 
 read the book have suggested to me that it ought to be 
 reprinted. I took it to New York publishers, and they 
 were willing to publish it, but wanted me to have it 
 copyrighted in America to protect them, as its publi- 
 cation would require an outlay of about $30,000. The 
 Hon. John Dalzell was alwavs a friend of mine and I 
 
Conclusion. 183 
 
 asked him to see what he could do about the matter. 
 He introduced a bill in Congress to copyright the book, 
 but the committee decided that the publication of a 
 dead man's work could not be copyrighted, even by a 
 special act, and I had to give it up. 
 
 The authenticity of the history is unquestionable, 
 and it has been proven by investigation by bookmen 
 that the copy I have is the only one in existence. Let- 
 ters have been written to book sellers and others in all 
 parts of the world in an effort to trace the possibility 
 of other copies, but none have been found. 
 
 So I think I have a right to be proud of the book. 
 It will never be sold, and when I die will be handed 
 down to my sons, who, I hope, will take as good care 
 of it as I have. 
 
 O 
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 Conclusion. 
 
 Living in my little suburban home in Greensburg, 
 I expect to round out my days. For y6 years I have 
 been buf¥etted about the Avorld, and I am willing that 
 my life should now run on in the most peaceful chan- 
 nels. There are some things I would have different, 
 but no man can not mould his life entirely as he would. 
 I sigh for the friends of my youth, who have long since 
 passed to their Ions: sleep, but sighing cannot bring 
 them back. Most of all, I sigh for the wife who was 
 taken from me in 1882 and rests In Allegheny cemetery, 
 
184 Conclusion. 
 
 while beside her lay three of our children. To be sure, 
 time dulls the pain of separation, yet it cannot fill the 
 void that death has left in my life. 
 
 Though I still have one daughter and two sons 
 left with me, two of them have been separated from me 
 by marriage, and I am all but alone in the world. My 
 niece is my housekeeper, and she has been like a 
 daughter to me for many years, but a father must al- 
 ways long for the absent ones of his little flock. 
 
 As to myself, my physical self, time has dealt 
 kindly with me, and it would seem that I should have 
 many years more of life. And I am content that it is 
 so. I am not one of those who would hurry nature in 
 her work of dissolution, and I am in no hurry for the 
 summons of death. I had an ancestor who lived to 
 pass the century mark, and with my robust constitution 
 and my perfect hygenic manner of living, it would 
 seem that I might also live to so great an age. 
 
 Cares and worries I have put behind me. I no 
 longer struggle for wealth, but I am content with the 
 modest fortune that has come to me, and care for no 
 more than will help me to end my days in comfort. Sur- 
 rounded though I am by the sons of men I watched 
 grow rich in the early days of Pittsburg's great pros- 
 perity, I have no thought of envy in my heart. I have 
 tried to make the best of my life, looking more to 
 health and happiness than to the riches "that are more 
 a burden than a help. If I have failed in aught that 
 should have been expected from my opportunities, T 
 have no regrets, as I have done what few runaway 
 bovs have done, and withal have alwavs cared for the 
 
Conclusion. 185 
 
 'less fortunate members of my family to the best of my 
 ability. The love for my family has been the chief 
 guiding motive of my whole life. Perhaps I should 
 have little credit for that, because that is one of the 
 things nature gave me at my birth. 
 
 And when my time comes to be laid to rest beside 
 my wife, I hope it can be said that though hordes of 
 friends proceed me to the Great Beyond, not an enemy 
 is left behind and none will be on the other side to greet 
 me. 
 
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