Morris tribune., 1885-09-16
THE OLD LOG CABIN.

The old log cabins! where are theyp
/ with their rough bark sides and steep
gables, their long shingle roofs held in
place, not by nails, but by poles spaced
off at half-yard distances; their "stick''
chimneys and broad fre-places, over
which once hung the singing tea-kettle,
around which can almost see tonight
group of half-dozen school-children
reading their lessons by the clear fire
light children all grown to manhood
and Womanhood, and maybe themselves
pioneers on faraway mountain of
Montana, or in the New Mexico ranches,
and lacking many of the solid comforts
of the old log cabin of thirty years gone
by.
How pleasant it is to recall the friend
ly neighbors as they gathered in an
evening visit. The chairs are placed
back in half-circle; the broad room is
not too large for the cheerful gathering.
There are none in full dress, but they
are all full-hearted. With humor un-
stinted and generous natures uncheck-
ed, they tell of the weather, the snow,
the clearing, the markets, the schools,
and the meetings; of the far-away
New England that someone has just
heard from; of the news from weekly
papers; of the runaway slaves escaping
into Canada; of the new Administration
and the little that is known in the world
so distant from lack of few wires and
engines.
They are not dull or tedious, nor do
they count the hours till ten, when, be-
fore leaving, they kneel reverently, each
by his chair, and two short, earnest
prayers are offered. They seem to pray
for everyone; for the wanderer in the
bleak forest, if any there be, without
shelter; for food and raimelt; patience
and charity; for the loved they have
left, and prospects of the future; for
health, for hope eternal, and for the
double blessing of peaceful life.
They have gone! wrapped up in their
sleighs, three, five, eight miles, out into
the wilderness! gone to their homes
with renewed courage and bravery, to
battle with the trees and the forest, and
carve out a home for their offspring.
They have lived to see the changes,
maybe, but they have not lived to see q
more hearty and enduring friendship,
more devoted and earnest Christians,
more substantial and determined pros
perity. They have built the solid struc-
ture on which our national character
leans for support in the hour of peril
and danger-the love of right and eter-
nal friendship for good government.
The first Sunday night in the new log
cabin of a then far-western State was q
strange sensation to q little boy that he
has never forgotten in the rapidly pass
ing thirty years since such cabins were
in the height of fashion all over the
western Union.
1t seems like dream, and when
close my eyes and think as l do some
Sunday nights, when the shutters of the
heart are opened and the light comes in
as through a vision, the scene is re-
viewed again and / recall the huge fire.
place, the evening visits and late, warm
suppers, the long sleigh loads and OK
team turnouts, the few and meagre pas
times, yet the heartily enjoyed hours at
the humble farmhouse.
| can see the tall trees felled in wind
rows, the fallow fires, the black, burnt
fields and blazing log-heaps on the new
made clearing that has long since been
turned to farm fit for mowers aud
reapers. BY the blazing light stood the
father and his plain-clad boys, watch
ing the red flames consume the huge |
logs to make room for the seeding and |
the harvest. 1t was work, 1t was cour-
age. 1t was bravery. Someone must
bear it. Many man bore it like q |
hero. Many woman bore it like a
martyr. They are gone; worn out like
The roots of the forest they felled with |
heir axes. Time has reaped them as
with sickle, and scarcely a man is left ]