"The Ligonier Echo" issue of 6 April 1892, p. 1:

OLD-TIME RECOLLECTIONS.

The McConaughys-Grandfather and Father-Killing Snake and Bears.

No. XXXV.

Mr. Editor:-I will yet say of my grandfather and mother McConaughy that they had the good fortune, when their own family had all left to do for themselves, they came into possession of their grandson and daughter, Thomas and Isie Moor, who when small had been left orphans. These persons suited them wonderfully well the remainder of their days, and proved to be careful, honest and industrious and did everything necessary; and under grandfather's training and discrete advice, Thomas was able to save sufficient to pay the first payment on a farm he purchased in Indiana county, in the meantime marrying a good industrious wife; at this time the sister also leaving to live in Ohio. Thus the Lord provides well for all who trust in Him.

When I was living in Blairsville after the war I was on train for Indiana and met Judge Thomas Allison, once a close neighbor on the Twolick but then living a near neighbor to friend Moor, and by inquiry I was glad to hear that he was prospering well and had added two other farms to the first and had two or three sons that came safely through the war, and told me one son was on the train whom he brought to me, and surely I was glad to see a bright, lively young man, I had not seen since he was a small boy at my grandfather's.

In starting now with my father's history I will hope to be excused if I be a little lengthy, but will get over it as fast as plain, expressive language can carry me. The first thing I say of him he was cool and calm and not easily excited. Uncle James once told us boys when they were all at home in the Path valley, they were all reaping in a big field of rye that extended up on a slope of one of the mountains, four young men and the smaller brother to gather the sheaves and the father leading them all and he behind father, when one of those ring-necked racer blacksnakes, common in that country, wound itself around father's leg, and without any ado he run his sickle inside and cut it in two, and went right on, as in those times reaping was a racing business. "I saw it as I passed," he said, "and as they were binding the rye coming back all saw it and found it in many pieces and thought it must have been twice round the leg." Father said, "Maybe it was; it was getting pretty tight, but I soon loosened it."

I remember when we were living on the Twolick he went to Ebensburg to sell in the best market of those times some produce and returning it got dark before he arrived at the house where he expected to lodge and missed the road and came across a tree in the road and had to lodge there all night; turned the horses to feed out of the wagon box and laid down to sleep with his big dog at his side. The wolves and other mountain animals kept up such a disturbance and annoyed the horses and dog so that he didn't sleep much. In talking to mother of it she said she didn't see how he stood it. "Oh," he said, "I had my big knife and dog on hands and he could have managed almost anything." At this same Twolick farm a fine flock of wild turkeys came into the hill buckwheat field and before father got within range to shoot they flew. He watched where they lit to roost, and before daylight he with dog at his heels slipped down, and as soon as he could see to sight he drew a bead on three heads and necks and shot. Three fell dead and another with broken wing that the dog caught, and he came home with a great bundle of turkeys, which I remember well. Father always kept a good rifle on hands, but never wasted time in hunting or fishing, but if foxes, owls or hawks came around after chickens he was a "dead shot;" also deer or wild turkeys into the fields. It was a gun of 75 to 80 balls per pound. In those days also used to start fire from the powder pan to fine shavings or tow. I never heard of lucifer matches till long after leaving home. While writing of shooting I will relate the killing of two bears near the old homestead in the valley.

Soon after we came from Indiana county our near neighbor came across a bear in his back meadow and his dog had it treed not far off. Father took the gun and from oldest sister down including three brothers followed father and the neighbor with our dogs ahead. The barking of the dogs readily brought us to the place, but not to go too near were our instructions from mother. When we came within view we stopped and the bear kept walking back and forth on a large limb, but father finally shot and it swung under and hung there a short time before dropping to be wooled by the dogs but soon cuffed them off and sat up, watching them or ready to give a cuff if they came near, till father had reloaded the rifle and shot him in the head which killed him. The next one, near ten years after, a short distance from our cornfield and not far from the other killing. Men and dogs had been following it all day, not getting a shot at it. We were very busy husking corn, but father went out to see what the fracas was and saw the bear sitting on a limb about 25 feet from the ground. He said, "Why don't you shoot it?" They told him the reason and that they couldn't get good rest to steady their gun. He took their gun, shot off hand and the bear fell down quite dead. He came back to work and when asked what was the fuss he said they had a bear out there, but said nothing about shooting it. Old man Wisener, who had been with them in the hunt, was happy in telling us the story of the men being afraid to shoot and how nicely father brought it down. Mr. Wisener had been a bear hunter in his time, but was too old to shoot.

ERRORS.

In No. 34 the name McCurdy should have been McConaughy; also, "had been acquainted with" is connection with Mr. Kephart. In No. 33 should read "he was stoutly built for a man of five feet eight or nine inches" instead of "six feet eight or nine inches."

A NEIGHBOR.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

"The Ligonier Echo" issue of 13 April 1892, p. 2:

OLD-TIME RECOLLECTIONS.

Home and Acquaintances at Twolick-Moving Experiences-Earliest Recollections of Family Customs and Incidents.

No. XXXVI.

Mr. Editor:-Father lived with his grandfather on the Twolick some years before marriage and while the younger brother Robert and the grandson, Thomas Moore, were at home to do grandfather's work and during this time he was sent to Chambersburg to life money on property sold there and to improve the trip profitably took some horses along to pack goods as was common at that day and got along all right on his return trip until crossing the broad fording near where Blairsville now stands. The river being "mid rib deep," the hind horse was washed down some distance into the "quicksand" and in his plunging lost part of the load-a big round ten-gallon pot and two bushels of salt. The sale was a total loss, but he and his brother James passing that way the next summer, stripped off and dived down into a hole twenty feet deep of water and got the pot and it is still on hands and being kept for me by Mrs. Wm. Menoher. The boys all learned to be fine swimmers in the Canocohauge creek of Path Valley and were never afraid of high or deep water. Uncle James told me of this while living in Blairsville many years after, and father taking a ride with me, in my medical visits above this fording, I asked him about it and he said it was true and pointed out the place still rather deep but somewhat filled up with sand and driftwood.

I do not know how long he lived with his grandfather but long enough to become well acquainted in that region, especially with Simpsons, Hamiltons, Col. M. Campbell who built the first mill of that country, old Mr. Robert Smith who owned a large tract of land where Blacklick station now is and he was the blacksmith for all that region; also the McCreas and was at the raising of their large double barn of hewed logs (as large as the noted one of R. Knox near the Hermitage;) also the Allisons, Cummins and old Mr. Ross, father of several doctors, the Philips and others; so that when he bought that farm after his grandfather's death it was not like settling in a strange country. The farm was also in reach of the Bethel church where the highly esteemed Rev. James Henderson preached, who also baptized the twin sisters that no person could "tell apart" and an old lady, Mrs. Lintner, yet being in Blairsville. Rev. Henderson youngest daughter missed one during part of the ceremony and could tell which one only by the color of the ribbon forming the bows in the small caps and she yet takes delight in speaking of it.

When my father moved there in 1815, two horses in cart took the goods except some he had taken over winter before on a sled when a good snow was on the ground. But when he exchanged it with grandfather and moved back to the homestead, I remember uncle Bill McCurdy brought grandfather's flitting with a big five-horse team with a large covered English wagon bed and they had quite a full load returning and had to put six horses in while coming up straight over the Ridge by the "Henrics Gap." I did not remember moving there but remember the coming back and the ferrying over Blacklick and the Conemaugh river of mother and children and also some sheep and hogs, but I rode in front part of wagon coming through the river.

After some things of my experience on the Blacklick, I will write of the old place in the valley and as I am living over my young life again, I hope to be excused if I run into some particulars that may not be of extensive general interest, yet will I hope to be able to apply many things to their young days with pleasure.

This is the place of which I first remember anything of this world and first of all was the family worship morning and evening-singing, reading the scripture and prayer. No ordinary business affairs ever interrupted this practice during a life-time at the old homestead. Father knew about a half a dozen tunes that he sand to different metres, but gave his boys a chance to lead in newer ones as they became capable to do so. He was an excellent reader scarcely ever miscalling a word. This place is where I first remember riding a nice quiet old horse to the creek for water and which was the beginning of riding thousands and thousands of miles on horseback in my lifetime. Also the first place of wearing "trousers," then called. A pair made of buckskin by uncle Mathew Steel, with welt in the seam down the legs. He was a good tailor and combined the business with farming. The trousers felt well on me and I was much pleased with them as what boy is not pleased with his first trousers. I and John were playing in the run near by building dams and I got them wet and they were laid on the big hearth stone to dry before the fire and in the morning were dried hard so I could not get my feet into them, which seemed awful troublesome, but mother soon removed the difficulty by rubbing them soft and all was right. John was wearing his frock dress yet and had hard coaxing to get wearing pants for a long time until Jane hid the frock where he could not find it. She was anxious to see the pants on him. I remember of going with Jane to a neighbor Yankee family and they had nice carpet on the floor and "winder chairs" called in those times. I had never before seen any but split-bottomed chairs. These other chairs looked so smooth and bright that I thought they were glass and I was afraid to sit on them. And the carpet was so nice but it didn't cover quite all the floor and I tried to walk around and not step on it. This was the man father traded young steers with to make a yoke of oxen, for the bay English mare, the best piece of horse-flesh I ever saw and her breed all good and some of them still at home when I left. We had a field in the forks between Twolick and Yellow creek and after a storm of heavy rain I went with Jane for the cows and wandered about eating berries and she came home without me, but soon I followed and the creek had raised and looked muddy and deep, but I went into it by slipping on round stones and falling a couple of times and was coming out well "ducked," but safely enough, when I met the whole family coming after me in great alarm, but greatly rejoicing when they saw me through safe.

This will close my experience on the Twolick farm, now facing Homer City, and will close this number by transcribing part of a friendly letter of my friend, 'Squire Hargnett, that he adds when answering some dates of death I asked him for. Then I will write of us all more or less, as we were brought up on the old homestead. After expressing his enjoyment in my reminiscences of the valley and his trip in and through the old cemetery to learn the date of Dr. Josan Miller's death, says: "In passing around I saw the tombstone of your dear father and it called up his face and person very plainly to my remembrance-dear old man of whom it was said he was never seen in a bad humor, which can be said of very few men. I know it cannot be said of me. When we lost Dr. Miller and John T. McGowan we lost two men whose places are hard to fill. Both were honest and men of more than ordinary minds, and christian men. I was in a position to know them both well and never knew of a dishonest act." What a happy time these friends and acquaintances will have in meeting one another as they pass around "in the happy, happy land."

A NEIGHBOR.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

"The Ligonier Echo" issue of 20 April 1892, p. 1:

OLD-TIME RECOLLECTIONS.

Moving to Ligonier Valley-Improving the Homestead Farm-"Niggering" Process-Snake Charm, etc.

No. XXXVII.

Mr. Editor:-When my father exchanged the Twolick farm for the old homestead in the valley, he gave $300 difference as he was getting more land but not quite so good in quality. He moved to it in the spring of 1819, I being then six years of age and I can remember everything of its appearance. The lower story of the house was pretty well fixed but the upper story rather open. The lower part was divided by board partitions smoothly planed into four rooms with a hall running from front door to back. The door knobs were of brass and the doors having iron latches, the first I had ever seen. There were also doors at the north end of the house into the one story kitchen from one fire room and from the other onto the porch in front of the kitchen. The orchard was the most prosperous looking part of the farm, especially the new one above the old state road, as this road ran between them and a row of thirty-three cherry trees was on the side of this lane. These trees were full of cherries every season, and people carried away while they lasted. The same is true with regard to the peaches. Father soon changed this road to run above the orchard and constructed our garden in front of the house on the old road-bed, and I think it is there yet. The new orchard was of the best selection of fruit in all the country and scarcely ever failed being loaded with fruit including the best pears of the country.

I think we were all pleased with the exchange especially mother, as she was in dread at the other place, lest some of us boys should be drowned in the Twolick and she was near her father's people here, many of whom were with their parents at home yet. But when we looked over the place-old barn tumbling down, many of the fields covered with fallen timber and grown over with briers and sprouts and fence rows with large brush and grubs some of them twenty feet high with any number of wild grape vines and not more than 30 or 40 acres of tillable land and that badly worked out and greatly in need of liming and manuring and owing to the need of getting the worst fields cleared off and ready for the plow, there was a good showing of plenty of hard work before us boys to give us healthy exercise to develop stout robust men and prepare us for the conflicts of the world, whatever they might be. Our methods of industry at home were regular employment, no trifling with time, but we were never urged in work beyond our ability. We also had our days or parts of days for division, such as reviews or muster days of militia, elections, big vandues, etc. also to go fishing and swimming run errands to town on some business and enjoying the sociability around with the neighbors. The untillable fields were soon rid off but not so the fence rows as they were extensively grown up with wild grape and cherries of an excellent quality and that could not be done without moving the fence and obtaining a large supply of new rails gotten from the new fields afterwards. All suitable timber from these fields were made into rails. The shade trees that were left standing were nice to rest under in warm weather, but we had to be on a sharp lookout for snakes. Once when John and I were working corn, we noticed a bird sounding notes of alarm or distress and looking through the brush we saw one flitting back and forth on low limbs of bush as if it could not get away and we saw a very large rattlesnake crawling toward it and we got around with our hands full of stones and if the first one thrown didn't kill it, there were plenty more showered and the bird was set free of the charm. I will allude to snake charms again, a prevailing idea of those times.

In clearing all this dead dry timber on the fields the "niggering system" was adopted, as we boys were too small to chop such logs, but we could "watch the niggers," and keep them at work. This system was to chop into the top of the log a little, with chips and bramble, kindle a fire, and then lay on a large club or broken off top, and keep them all in place, they would soon run through into proper lengths for making large log heaps or piles, to burn up. Thus saving much heavy work in chopping logs. By regular industry, we soon had the fields rid of briers also, even the living briers were the hardest, but our large flock of sheep was great help at this. The fields did not produce very well, and liming with all the manure we had was the resort, as well as clearing out two fields, from the extensive woods on the place, that we might have a more full supply for man and beast. This was commenced in the winter of 1827 when the oldest brother was seventeen, the next 12 years and four younger, father being along to pile the brush and chop the saplings and grub out the big dogwood and such other large grubs too big for us, so that this winter of mild weather and no snow, we cleared 12 acres, and put it in wheat the coming fall. We cleared 10 to 12 acres every year for a time and some of it after James and John had left home by hiring a hand by times, also burning limestone that was in one of our fields, but hard to quarry. Burning on large piles of falling timber in the new fields, and hauling much from John Pollock's. We could get [unclear] there at 4cts. per bushel. So before I left home in the fall of 1840 the farm was in good producing order and we were able to sell from it much produce. I never saw any place where grew better crops of all kinds [unclear] fields, even in what was the poorest fields when we came there in 1819. They attaining to this in 21 years. I should also mention that in about four or five years after we came there a new double barn was erected with eastern overshoot and had attached in it a large shed with cover of clapboards and weight poles, in which all the cattle large and small were completely protected from the storms of which there were many very fierce ones on that farm so well elevated that we had full view of both mountains as well as much of the valley far up and down. To the barn, sheds were erected all around with roofs extending clear up over logs to the eves, thus preventing the snowstorms coming through and covering the mows with snow. The last winter, we were all yet at home. Being a fine winter of snow, father and James cut saw-logs and I hauled them to Eber's mill, thus securing sufficient lumber to furnish boards and scantling to weatherboard the house and build a new kitchen, all of which was finished up the summer of the next year, 1829-which was progress for ten years. The house was nicely painted, being the only one in all the country round at that time, unless old Gent. John Ogden's was, which was painted near the same time. I will first finish this family as a whole, and then write individually.

A NEIGHBOR.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)

"The Ligonier Echo" issue of 27 April 1892, p. 4:

OLD-TIME RECOLLECTIONS.

Farm Improvements-Industry of the Women-James Travels as a Carpenter but Afterwards Becomes a Doctor and Retires Wealthy to the West.

No. XXXVIII.

Mr. Editor:-I will hasten to close the combined industry of this family as a whole and then I will write of their individual industries and movements in the world. I have said we came there in the spring of 1819, I then being six years of age and sister Jane four years older and James between us. You can readily see we were not idle the first nine or ten years on this place with the improvements already mentioned of clearing thirty to forty acres from the woods, building barn and repairing house, rebuilding old kitchen into a weaver shop, building stone smokehouse, also one of the best cider mills and presses in all the country to use up our surplus apples, at $1.50 to $2 per barrel for cider and apples at 12 to 20 cents a bushel to make into butter. We had the house completely plastered up-stairs and down; also added to our farming conveniences a strong four-horse wagon, metal bull plow, the Shear and Coulter wooden mold board, cast away as worthless. This wagon was made by Robert Luther, Esq., of excellent timber and ironed by Samuel Adams, an excellent workman as well as a good Methodist in early times in Ligonier. We could plow far more in a day and deeper and better than with the old plow and had no trouble with its choking when plowing down clover and stubbles. After we had cleared sufficient land we could raise three crops and then sow on it clover and timothy for pasture and hay and let it rest in this way for three years. Under that system the land kept good and didn't wear out. I never saw poor corn grow on this good limestone land, and oats would grow four to five feet and not lay down as it did on many farms of low ground. Our women folks of the family were not idlers, but equally industrious. Besides making much butter and cheese, they made about all the garments needed from wool and flax, produced on the farm-fine flax cloth for summer wear and well striped and checkered tow linen for pants. It was not only all spun at home, but if a weaver was hard to find they could and did weave it themselves on our own loom in the weavershop. So you see the words of the wise man of olden times were strictly practical-"She seeketh wool and flax and worketh willingly with her hands. She layeth her hands to the spindle and distaff. She is not afraid of the snow, for her household is clothed with wool. She looketh to her household and eateth not the bread of idleness."

So you see these blessed teachings of practical industry are very ancient and it seems a pity a man of such wisdom and power did not practice more of his preaching, and for want of not "doing the commandments of the Lord" was at last ready to exclaim, "Vanity of vanity, all is vanity and vexation of spirit," and by having so many wives and not much family or offspring must have been his trouble. We only hear of one son and he didn't amount to much, and no daughters. He surely might have had better things to any of life had things been different in his household. He should have remembered his own words, "Give not thy strength to women nor thy ways to that which destroyeth [unclear]." Supposing you call out some of your clergymen to write of Solomon's household.

I am now up to the Fall of 1829. That all might be in business, James went to learn a trade and I to Grandfather McCurdy's to go to Pollock's schoolhouse to a noted Yankee teacher, grandfather to take care of the stock, for my last winter of schooling, my uncles all being away at some industry and only one aunt at home who was married the following spring. James commenced the saddling and harness making business but soon quit, as too trifling a kind of work and turned in with Nathaniel McKelvey to learn the carpenter trade and worked some months, but work being scarce he went to Pittsburg and Blairsville and worked journey work till the fall of 1831. He built our brother-in-law, Maj. Samuel Nesbitt, a new house and in the spring of 1832 walked across Northwestern Penn'a to Buffalo, N.Y., and took the N.Y. canal for the city and worked there till the first invasion of cholera in this country drove him to Philadelphia. It soon followed him there and he left for Harrisburg and got ague there and he then came home in the fall when we were all glad to see him. But we thought he was ruined, as he looked dreadful in his ague shakes, but Dr. Cummins soon cured him. He then hired a man and weather-boarded Rev. Swan's house and otherwise repaired and painted it; also the old Fairfield church; also built a couple barns, the last one for Uncle Robert McConaughy. His work as carpenter was well and rapidly done, and I remember the barn framing was so complete and correct that not a misfit occurred at the raising. He finally concluded the business was hard work and not much money in it, and in the fall of 1834 or '35 went to college to start in a course of education, continuing this for two or three years, being at times at college and D. Reed's classical school at Pollock's, and the last summer recited Greek and Latin to Rev. A. Donaldson, while the latter was studying Divinity with Rev. Swan. In that fall he went to study medicine with Dr. Steward, of Indiana, a doctor of high standing. He attended lectures at Philadelphia in 1838-9 and commenced practice as a one-course student in the spring at Pleasant Unity and remained there one or two years; then came to Mt. Pleasant, where he remained forty-six years. He practiced at the latter place as a one-course student until the winter of 1844-5, and then graduated at Philadelphia. This was while I was his partner as first course student, to attend to a very large practice in a country where there are now from twelve to fifteen doctors. He retired from this place six years ago with more money and wealth than any other doctor ever did perhaps of many counties around. He was sorry to leave his old residence and friends, but his daughters and son had married and settled in the west. The son's wife died in one year and was sorely lamented. He was lost, as it were, in the west, for a time, but is now satisfied and comfortable.

A NEIGHBOR.

(TO BE CONTINUED.)