other forms of wickedness, and became an exemplary member of the
community. He was a man of unimpeachable veracity; bigoted and
intolerant in his religious and political views, but a good
neighbor, a kind father, a worthy citizen, a fond husband, and
a consistent member of his church. He improved his farm, paid
his debts, and kept his faith. He had no sentiment about things
and was quite unconscious of the beauties of nature over which we
make such an ado. "The primrose by the river's brim" would not
have been seen by him at all. This is true of most farmers; the
plough and the hoe and the scythe do not develop their aesthetic
sensibilities; then, too, in the old religious view the beauties
of this world were vain and foolish.

I have said that my father had strong religious feeling. He took
"The Signs of the Times" for over forty years, reading all those
experiences with the deepest emotion. I remember when a mere lad
hearing him pray in the hog-pen. It was a time of unusual religious
excitement with him, no doubt; I heard, and ran away, knowing it was
not for me to hear.

Father had red hair, and a ruddy, freckled face. He was
tender-hearted and tearful, but with blustering ways and a harsh,
strident voice. Easily moved to emotion, he was as transparent as a
child, with a child's lack of self-consciousness. Unsophisticated,
he had no art to conceal anything, no guile, and, as Mother used to
say, no manners. "All I ever had," Father would rejoin, "for I've
never used any of them." I doubt if he ever said "Thank you" in his
life; I certainly never heard him. He had nothing to conceal, and
could not understand that others might have. I have heard him ask
people what certain things cost, men their politics, women their ages,