Connecticut western news., 1877-08-10
Friday Morning, Aug. 10. 1877.
Pleasant Memories nnd Sod SIght.--
 No. D.

always tidy "cottage," by the old highway Hong since closed to the publicl we come to the "Nst. Pease Place"--that prolific vine from whence were shelled some thir- teen young Pease, and nearly all of whom grew to bearing age, and who. with thelr offshoots spread over the land far and near but who are now scattered so that old Norfolk does not contain one stalk of the original stock. at least of the name. "Grandther Pease" was 8 noted man in his day, and though ostensibly a farmer, filled up the rainy days Tn curry ing hides. or tanning sole leather, and the remains of the tan vats were to be seen near the spring brook that ran past the house in our young days. But the brook has gone dry and the house went to ruin through the agency of neglect. tlme and fire. and the farm is now the property of Gfsave Lawrence. Esquire of Nor folk believe. It was 8 queer old dwel
 ling in it's day, with it's "up stairs and down stars" lit was built into side hilD land cen my lady's chamber" the old east room. with its Fireplace in one coruer. as they should be t. diffuse heat equally; and we'll we remember the round table at which we sat as visitors, and dipped our spoons into the one central dish of 'pot luck,s without even @ wooden trencher to serve as halfway station between the big bowl and little mouth. It was one of the primitive customs that went out of fashion when tn Q "Biddy" came in, and much dish washing was needed to keep her in work. And well we recall the mysterious well that cooled the pantry and cheese room. and where we could hear the splash of the "big trout" as we dropped bits of Grandma's gingerbread down into it's unfathomable depths! A few rods west of thls was the Captain Ives place. where the other half of our ancestry was brought up to .woman's estate and romped and raced and climbed cherry trees, ,and caught trout [so they sayl in Roaring Brook that tumbled down the mountain near by, and thus stored up the stamina that could endure ninety four years [her agel of the rough usage of hard working world. And there grew the famous Spout Apples showing the penstock, and many other trees that gave us pears and plums and peaches. such as never trees can produce again. at least for us. And there ooopsred and shaved shingles good old Gran'ther Melgs, who shaved us 8 ''buEz" whose music was as sweet as that of the wheels that spun woolen and flax. and was woven by hand by the truest women of that old time. The place came into the hands of George and his sons Charles and Myron, who migrated west, and is now owned by Squire Grove, as aforesaid. and is in a good state ot preservation. Next west of this is the Capt. Burt place where was once an anchor shop. and 8 very big hammer that used to say to our boVish ears "come penny,. come pound, come penny. come pound,' as it pounded out anchors and pounds, shillinRs and pence that was the currency of those early days. But. some how, the pounds turned to pennies in the Col.'s pocket and the forge went to ruin, as dld all of the Iron works on the Black berry. and rot one dam remains to tell where one of them stood. Next in ruins we come to the Calvin Pease tavern stand. which was one of the fllp-iron sort, and the old waIIs miRns whlsper or JoI1y JIues, when such wits as Nat Stevens. Ovid Plumb. Prute Pease, Doctor Huntington and others of that stamp came together over the roaring open-wood fires of that festive day. Oh, that the white wash of those old walls had held iodine or bromine and photographed anew what they saw live. Oh, that 'sensitixed" human brain could paWetuate the bygones as the bichromate does the picture. The "tavernn fell into the hands of Salmon, who, with his many sons, moved to Vermont, and now only bare walls and battered roofs remain to tell of the golden day when this was the great stage route from Hartford to Albany, and when many coaches day were needed to convey the Saratoea and Lebanon Spa freQuenters in the hot season. Next west of the tavern was the homo of Pruden Pease lcalled "Prute" for shortl who was any thing but prudent man and the place sunk to rain along with it's owner and it's battered walls are 8 fitting monument to the still demon of wicked street" that worked their mutual downfall And so we come to the last of the ruinl ibut onel of old Blackberry, and that ii the Isham place. which was famous clotl flushing and dying works ID it's day, bu is all gone but the dwelling; and, oh ye there was the cotton factory some distance
 below. and which was place of resort fo the sight seers of that day ,as the Machiner, Hall of the centennial has been to ours, an, perhaps as wonderful. That too was pou
 and some sort of mlll has risen on it ruins, and instead of cotton, tobacco seem to be the poison that is to work furthe mischief to the benighted reSlon. An, now.last Sf all Sfi of tsis sad. eyentful histor
 Works.or the ghostof the place where the
 stood and forged the fortune of tn eccentric milllonsir. And who does md remember the queer old "gip" that he use
 to drive about in, and out of which he di
 not hesitate to climb to pick up hors
 shoe or Q scrap of Iron, or even a mai
 saying that he could not make a nail ha] s0Quick as he could pick one upi But nal
 machines had not been invented then. an
 thousands of men linside and outside (
 Newgatel made living by hammering on
 malls. The Square" was 8 close calculate
 too, and it is said always bought hls te,
 sugar. &c,. by the small quantity, sayin
 T get DOWN weight, down weight" An
 what we should call very careless wa
 And It IS told that on driving home froi
 Hartford where the bank was enc evening
 he stopped ss "si Pestibones tavern in th
 he was starting of he handed out hal
 bushel from under the seat of the old gil
 stirring up its contents with his hands, an
 saying, '1ook here MT. PettIbone. all silve
 solid silver MT. Pettibone." And thot
 were the days of solid silver. and soli
 fortunes. as the Forbes and Battells, (
 their descendants can bear witness, an
 before the sharp competition between me
 and machinery made life lottery. an
 business Q toss up of the dies; and hesvil
 loaded dlce at that Hol for the days (
 solid silver once morei JrPSEY.
 NOTE: There is one other "sad slteO ths
 might be mentioned, and that IS th
 Charter Oak hotel site, burned not lon
 ago. and where one of Norfolk's notabl,
 McKean. of which quite romantic stor
 was current, and which got into poetry (
 the very versed kind. It seems that theI
 was certain Mss Fairchild who dwelt O
 the Green, and to whom the amorous Iris
 hsnA