Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1889-04-26
"AUNT EuILY"

lheie Is sun llVlng IN Detroit greatly
beloved old lady of eighty, Miss Emily
Ward, who is known far and wide as
Aunt Emily, because she has brought up
50 many children who have known her by
that name When she first moved TO that
part Of the country from Vermont, it was
a wilderness but she proved a noble pio-
neer. Even in childhood she knew no fear
and was not only self-reliant, but had the
power of winning the confidence of others.
Her younger brothers and sisters especially
clung 10 her. This is shown in the follow
ing incident:
aunt Emily and her sister Sallie went
up into the mountains one dav to gather
berries and got lost. Coming unexpected
ly to a steep declivity, both fell over. Aunt
| Emily rolled to the bottom, eighty feet or
more, with the berry baskets and lay there
stunned The formation Of the declivity
and the vegetation had, however, broken
the force Of her fall and, although pain
fully bruised, she got up after time, aud
found that Sallie, after falling short dis
tance, had saved herself by catching hold
of twig, to which she still rlung. Their
cries brought help from a distance: and
men going to the top of the steep incline
prepared to rescue Sallie by letting down
poles joined together, on which she was to
little girl, however, fearful of falling. re-
fused to transfer her hope of salvation from
the twig to the poles, and coaxings and re-
assuring cries failed to prevail upon her
The situation was critical. The twig might
break any minute. She was six years old
but her confidence in Aunt Emily's iudg-
ment and ability to protect was unlimited
Aunt Emily was seven. 1t was only after
! Aunt Emily had stationed herself at the
bottom OF the cliff with her little apron out
stretched to catch her sister in case the lat
ter fell that Sally consented TO abandon the
twig for the poles. No wonder the men
laughed at the motherly little figure at the
bottom Of the hill with her apron about as
big as a pocket handkerchief stretched out
protectingly, and at the implicit faith pin
ned by the child in her danger to the sister
who was only year the elder
When Aunt Emily was a young woman,
her father was appointed keeper of the
light house on Bois Blanc Island and after
a few months she joined him there, remain
ing for period Of eight or ten years in
that out-of-t the-wav locality. S Bolivar
Brooks, boy to whom, being left alone in
the world, she became foster mother was
her companion during these years of prac-
teal exile. She educated him and brought
/ him up.
AUNT Emily assumed the active respons-
/ ibility involved in the care of the light sta
ton, man being employed by her father
to carry out her instructions. An incident
which shows the stuff pioneer women were
made of is of thrilling interest when mar
rated in detail. During the progress of a
mighty storm, while her father was at
Mackinac, Aunt Emily discovered that the
strong masonry of the tall light tower was
being undermined. Watching anxiousy,
she discovered seams appearing in the tow
er, running its whole length from top to
bottom. In spite of the fierce wind that
was blowing, she climbed with Bolivar the
outside ladder leading to the top of the tow
er, which was even then swaying back and
| forth. Removing the lamp and other things
of value they descended, but had scarcely
reached the ground before the tower top
pied over. Luckily, it fell in such man
ner as not to crush the light-keeper's resi-
dence.'
The second generation of children who
were brought up by this noble woman call
ed her "grandma" instead of aunt, and they
never wearied of hearing her tell stories of
the early pioneer days. Some of these sto-
ries have been collected in a manuscript
volume as they fell from the old lady's lips.
The following two are taken from this vol
/ ume
Going nfIer SIra berries.
lone day in June" said grandma, las
soon as dinner was over, Sallie and young
woman named Margaret, who worked for
| Uncle Sam, and Uncle Sans little boy and
myself went across the river to the Canada
side to gather wild Strawberries that grew
/ there in great abundance We crossed in
a row boat, and when we got ON shore, we
pulled the boat up high enough on the
beach to prevent the waves from carrying
it off.
1--WE had gay time filling our pals and
baskets with the ripe fruit, and, when we
got through we were rather tired, and very
| leisurely took our way to the boat. We
did not notice that the small boy had gone
ahead of us When we were nearly to the
beach, he came running toward us, shout
ing 'Boaty Boaty =
II knew in an instant that he had done
some mischief, and | set my Strawberries
down and ran as hard as | could TO the riv
er. Sure enough, he had pushed the boat
into the water, and it was floating off with
the current. | waded into the water clear
up to my neck and as | could not swim, |
had to wade back.
by this time, the girls and the small
!
they set up dismal wall for the boat was
gone, and there We four were miles away
from any habitation, and with a fine pros
pect of spending the night in the woods,
where wolves still roamed, and an occa-
sional Indian.
1--WE sat in very melancholy plight, the
girls crying, the boys looking doleful, and
thinking what to do, There was an island
about a mile below, near the Canadian
shore, audl thought the current would car
ry the boat to that island and strand her on
its eastern point. How to get to that point
was the question. There were no inhab.
itants for miles, and the sun was about go
ing down, The only thing TO do was to
make a raft strong enough to pole down to
the island and find the boat How to make
the raft was another question.
81 looked around the beach and found
there was driftwood of logs and long
poles, such as pioneers use in building mud
chimneys, and thought we could make a
raft with these if we only had something
tie them together. But there wasn't a
string yard long in the whole party, ex-
cept those we used TO hold up our stock
ings, as was the fashion in those days,
But, strings, or no strings, that raft had
got to be made and what were sun bon
nets and aprons and dresses and shirts for,
if in an emergency they wouldn't tie a raft
together
81 told the girls my plan, and they said
they didn't believe | ever would get that
boat back in any such way. Still, they
went to work with a will, because | want
ed them to, and because it seemed TO be
the only way to get home. We took of
our clothes and tied the logs together with
the different garments. After good dea
of hard work, a raft was completed with
the aforesaid materials
Luckily, the fashion of those days pro
vided every woman with a long chemist
that hung down TO her ankles and covered
us more as TO our necks and arms thar
many fashionable belle of these times il
covered bv what she calls full dress You
may be sure such raft was frail affair
to sail the waters of the great St Clair riv
er, and Sallie said she knew we would be
drowned Ii was only large enough for two
and Margaret and l went, leaving Sallie tc
the care of the boy. 1t required a brave
heart to go or stay for in the distance we
could hear the occasional howl of wolf
and there was peril also by water.
"The plan was that Margaret and
should stand up in our long white garments
and pole the raft but, as soon as we go
away from the shore, she was afraid Il
stand up, so she sat down and cried, and
did the work. The current helped us
good deal, and after time we could SEE
the head Of the island There was AN en-
campment of friendly Indians there at th'
time, we knew, fishing and hunting bu
we were not afraid of them,
"By this time the moon was up, and, a
soon as we could see the island, we saw al
the Indians on the shore gazing eagerly il
our direction. They didn't seem 10 under
stand what il was that was going towar'
them. But as We got nearer aud nearer
) aud the bright moonlight shone directly Oh
us, they discovered that il was only TIVE