The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1898-12-18


and looked no more than ten. There were
four of US. l was the eldest. Then there
was "a girl of ten, one of eight and half
and boy of seven. In October we had
moved TO the house on the shore of Lone
some lake which was very lonesome indeed.
1t was a solitary little sheet of water on the
top of a hill. almost mountain. There
were no neighbors nearer than a mile.
Father had moved to this farm on Lone
some lake because his father had died that
fall and the property had to be divided be-
tween him and his brother. Uncle William.
Uncle William was not married though he
was older than father and ne and father
and grandfather had always lived together
and worked the home farm, sharing the
profits.
After grandfather's death father and
Uncle William had some difference. never
knew what it was about. One night after /
had gone to bed I heard them talking loud,
and the next morning father and Uncle VIII
liam looked very sober at breakfast, and
mother had been crying. That afternoon she
told US that we were going to move because
the property was to be divided, and we were
to have the farm on Lonesome lake, near
Lebanon. Lebanon is a little village about
ten miles from Wareville, where we were
living then. Mother said she was sorry to
long, and she was afraid she would be pretty
lonesome in the new home, but she said we
must make the best of 1t. Uncle William
was the eldest son and had right to the
first choice of the property, and. of course.
since he was bachelor, it would be very
hard for him to go to live at Lonesome lake
We children rather liked the idea of NOV
ing and began packing at once. Flora and
Janey had their dolls and their wardrobes
all packed within an hour. Flora was the
sister next to me and / thought her rather
old to play with dolls. had given up dolls
long before 1 was as old as she.
Two weeks after grandfather died we were
all moved and neatly settled in our new
home. There had been no one living in the
house for several years, except when father
and Uncle William went up there every
year in haying time to cut and make hay.
Everything seemed pretty damp and dismal
at first. but when we got our furniture set
up and the fires started it looked more cheer
full. The house was large, with two
front rooms looking the lake, which was
only about twenty feet distant. One of these
rooms was our sitting room; the other was
our parlor. Back of these rooms was a very
large one, which was our kitchen and dining
room. There was a dark bedroom in the
middle of the house, q bedroom out of the
kitchen, one where father and mother slept
out of the sitting room, and four chambers.
Thanksgiving came about week after we
had moved, and we had rather Il forlorn day.
We all missed grandfather and Uncle Will
lam. L am sure mother cried little before
we sat down to the table, and father looked
sober
When Thanksgiving was over we began
to think about Christmas. Mother had
fore had all had the measles and been
disappointed about going to the tree at the
Sunday school, and mother had said. Next
year you shall have a. tree of your if
nothing happens" OF course, something
had happened. Poor grandfather had died,
and we had moved, and we wondered if that
would put q. stop to the tree. Mother looked
a. little troubled at first when we spoke of
1t. Then she said if we would not be dis
appointed if we did not have many pres
ents and the tree did not have much on it
except popcorn and apples she would see
what she could do.
Then we children began to be full of little
secrecies. Mysterious bits of wool and silk
and colored paper and cardboard were scat
tered about the house, and we were always
shutting doors and jumping and hiding
things when a door was opened. Each Of
mother, even Charles Henry. He was work
ing a worsted motto, God Bless Our
Home" Then, of course, we were all max
ing presents for one another.
1t w2s week and one day before Christ
mas We had our presents almost done, and
mother had promised to take two of us
the very next day and go down to the viii
Iage to do some shopping-we had been saw
ing money all the year for some boughten
presents-when the news. about Uncle VIII
liam came. A man rode over from Ware
Vile quite late at night and brought word
that Uncle William was dangerously sick
and father and mother must come at once
If they wanted to see him alive Mother
said there was nothing for it but they must
go. She said if they had not come away
just as they had with hard words between
father and Uncle William, she would have
let father go alone and stayed at home with
us children but as it was, she felt that
she must go too She and father. though l
can understand now that they felt anxious
while trying to conceal it from us, did not
think there was any real danger in our stay
ing alone. They reasoned that nobody ex-
cept the people in the village would Know
we were alone. and there was not probably
one ill-dsposed person there, certainly no
one would do us harm. Then, too, 1t was
winter. and we were off the main travelled
road. and tramps seemed very improbable
I'VE had provisions enough in the house to
last US for weeks, and there was a great
stock of firewood in the shed. Luckily the
barn was connected with the house, so | did
not have TO so out of doors to milk-it was
fortunate that knew how-and we had only
one COW.
Mother staid up all that night and baked
and father split up kindling wood and got
everything ready to leave, They started
early next morning, repeating all their in
structions over and over We felt pretty
lonesome when they had gone, especially,
not only because 1 was the eldest and felt
a responsibility for the rest, but because
father had given me a particular charge.
1 was the only one who knew that there
was 1855, some money which father had
from the sale of a wood lot in Wareville
month after we had moved and had kept
in the house ever since, locked up in the
secret drawer in the chest in the dark bed
room
Father had been intending to drive over
to Wilton, where there was bank, and de-
Dosf+ tho money bI1f had Diit IL off from one