The Iola register. [volume] (Iola, Allen County, Kansas) 1875-1902, 1881-10-28
ISAAC LENNON.

ISAAC LENNON
"'Sartinly you shell 90 to skule, Ike,
my boy. It's lib'ral eddicashun, too,
you're goin' to hev. That's wot got
m'self; an I've allus meaned to do
ekally well by you.''
When he was only ten years old,
Isaac had lost his mother, a woman of
delicate nature, of some early advan-
tages, and tenderly Jealous to see her
boy start in life face foremost. And
under her kind tuition, Isaac had soon
surpassed his father in familiarity with
the few books at hand, and in hunger
for more. Thus it was, when we found
him husking corn, that his speech was
already "out of the backwoods,"
though he lived in a country of that
quality.
1t was, therefore, a jack-frost on his
young hopes that his father, none too
bright by nature, and crude by contact,
set himself up an as educational model.
But somehow, by the rule of contraries,
Isaac had been born on the sunny side
of the fence. He rallied from ''ekally
WE'LL" and, with an amateur eccen-
tricity as a cross-questioner-a trait
which afterwards became famous, as
also professional-he husked an odd
red ear and said:
..Well, father, what is .lib'ral eddi-
cashun'?''
'Why, boy, thar's the spellin' book
first. l parsed baker in that. larned
to write my name so most anybody
could make it out. An thar's my old
nj: fr:< ~ h2 oL: l.,
cuburd; figgered clean outen long d.
vision. An l callate as how I'm lib
orally dedicated man. Wot more does
q fellow need? 'Tany rate, there bent
nobody as knows more'n do, 'lect,
in these ere parts of Injeanny an this
year O. grace 1922"
when do you think ought to start
in and pillow this book pasture?'
"Waal, you've got lots O. time.
You're only thirteen now; an mean
you shell 60 to skule this very winter
comm. l want you to git started
young. you see."
Isaac didn't quite "see it." But COM
plant of parents wasn't in him, and he
only merrily inquired: "How many
years will it take, do you think?'
Years! l should say right smart
fellow like YOU mout offer clean through
that 'rithmetic in three or four months,
sides readin', writin' an SIGH"
"And how long did it take you,
father?''
80, it took me bout three O. four
winters. But then, 1 didn't hev no SIGH
'arly 'vantages as you've 'ad. My faith
er'n mother want dedicated folks.
You've already larned to hum to read
the Scripter mighty well-smart an
good woman your mother wuz. An
you reads them bits o. newspapers you
picks up in town sometimes. You've
allus heered good talk an kirrect gram
mar to hum, too; but didn't when l
was boy. You know, too, that Jimmy
Monroe is President. Why, tell you,
you're purity we'll dedicated boy 'thout
goin' to skule tall. You'll be one O.
these self-eddicated chaps fore we
know it. But tip over the next stock!
See, the suns in the tree-tops! We've
got to shuck this ere row through agin
shutdown"
Isaac obeyed. While husking corn
he had also husked his fathers ideas
of education, and thought them nubbins.
But the father, in turn, had not reached
the prolific kernel of the boys larger
notion of knowledge.
But who was this lad, that the story
of his growth becomes worth nara
ton?
Isaac Lemons father was pioneer
farmer of small acres in South
ern Indiana nearly sixty years ago-a
rolling stone from Kentucky that gath
cred but a triie of moss. At thirteen
Isaac was tall bony, awkward, bright,
good boy. His face was long, his mouth
and nose were large, his eye was kind
and his manner shy; and his coarse
homespun pantaloons seemed never
able to catch up with his growing legs.
In contrast with his angular mould was
a peculiar mirthful disposition. He
had a large hand in youthful sports,
and could laugh with the best, but did
much of his laughing inside. He was q
favorite with his young friends, for he
could lead them in "having a good
time" without exciting envy; and if he
heard good story he could straight
way tell q better one. But he was
equally fond of men who had some
thing solid to say. He would stop eat
ing any time to be told something new.
But he did not meet many such men.
His was a rude, hard life which few
country boys are now forced to bear.
But he never complained of his lot.
His study was not how to shirk it, but
how to make the best OF it. He helped
his father to the best of his ability, as
one who had right to his help; and he
helped, just for the love of helping,
many who had no special claim upon
his kindness
But school-time came soon after the
husking was over. The schoolhouse at
Pigeon Creek was a very narrow en-
closure of logs, and its pupils of that
winter were taught by Andy Crawfut,
who dropped out of an academy for
three months that he might have money
to 90 back again.
Isaac sDe,st to school.
To him it seemed as if those few
words expressed the triumph of his
youth and the assurance of his man