Annals of our ancestors; one hundred and fifty years of history in the ...

THE OLD FARM 75
first lesson in the desolation of the tomb. On arriving at the
open grave, and while standing by mother, I looked down to
see how deep it was and found the grave was filling with
muddy, yellow water from the clay sides. This was dipped
out, and with straps the coffin began its journey from our
sight into the grave, and soon our grandmother's last bed was
hidden forever away. After our grandparents both rested in
that cemetery, their graves were marked by simple marble
slabs giving the dates of their birth and death.
The Farmers' Lyceum named our home "Wahiut Tree
Farm" because of the large walnut tree in front of our house.
Before Mr. Finney bought it from government an opening
had been made in tlie forest by the Indians, and there, more
than a hundred years ago, some careless squirrel dropped a
walnut; and in due time a sprout sprang up from it and grew,
and by the second year it made a shade sufficient for grandfather's
water jug. Our father remembered its grateful shade
in his own and its youth, and he told us its history. Such trees
grow rapidly for the first four or five years, and our walnut
tree was of fine proportions, growing tall and straight and
spreading its plumy branches so it cast a shade over our entire
yard. In its shadow we children played all summer long.
Our brothers went to the woods in search of long grapevines
of just the proper thickness for a swing; then with their combined
energy they climbed and boosted until the best and
strongest limb was found, and when the swing was completed
we all got hold and tested its strength. Next, notches were
sawed in a board which made a wide and comfortable seat;
and the triumphant finish was celebrated with joyful shouts.
Very far over the green grass reached the grapevine swing; it
was amusement and refreshment; out from the hot kitchen we
sisters would escape to cool off beneath the shade of the dear
old walnut tree, while we took turns in the swing.
I seem to see Aunt Rachel Stevens (father's cousin) and
mother as they sewed in the shade in the hot days of summer.
They often sat on grandfather's old settee which stood at the
foot of the great tree, and those whom the swing could not
accommodate the settee could. Ned, our pet squirrel, used