Camas Prairie chronicle. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1901-1917, 1905-02-17
CHAPTHR 4

year, l must glance back at the earlier
years Of my childhood, and at those who
influenced it.
My earliest recollections are Of Tab
ernacle House; previous to those, all is
dim and shadowy. Tabernacle House
was an establishment kept by the Rev.
Obadiah Porter, for the reception Of
some half dozen boys.
The reverend pedagogue was man
whose satyr-like face greatly belied his
professions Of profound piety. could
not understand, child as l was, how 1t
ever came into his head to set up as a
tutor, or how parents or friends could be
induced to confde the education Of chill
dren to the care of a man deficient in
the eOmmonest rudiments Of learning.
His original occupation was that Of a
shoemaker, and his hands still retained q
coarse, grimed look. His bullet-shaped
head was covered with a thick mass
Of hair. which had a shaggy, ragged APP
pearance, from being cut in irregular
lengths, or rather chopped away in
pieces. His forehead was very low. He
had thick, shaggy eyebrows, and small,
anake-like eyes. In stature he was short,
thickset, bull-necked; his arms were re-
markably long, his feet splay and III
shaped.
Obadiah Porter was a widower, with
one daughter So powerfully have terri
BILE events engraven her after-image upon
my mind, that can scarcely recall its
hrst impressions l think she must have
been about fifteen or sixteen, l being
some FIVE or six, when first saw her
She did not bear the slightest resem-
blance to her father; she was tall, thin;
her hair was bright red, her complexion
pale, her eyes large, her features deli
cate, and sharply cut. To this young
lady was handed over the tuition of her
fathers pupils.
There were FIVE besides myself. There
was a strange bond Of sympathy be-
tween us all-not one Of us knew any
thing Of our parents. One knew an
aunt, another an uncle, a third a grand
mother, or a grandfather, or a guard
ian, but no father or mother
1t was a peculiarly OF Mr.. POrter's
establishment that he did not take boys
who had parents. His advertisement in
the newspapers ran thus: 1.-THE Rever-
end Obadiah Porter undertakes the Gre,
education and religious training OF or
phan boys from the earliest age. I'm
exceptional references as to piety and
discretion win be given. n. B.-No hol-
days"
1t Is not my intention to linger upon
this period, or enter into any minute de-
scriptions Of our uninteresting, monoton-
GUS life. The years crept on, and were
almost wholly passed within the pre-
eincta Of Tabernacle House. 1t was a
hne, old-fashioned dwelling. 1t had large
gardens back and front-the latter be-
ing screened from the road BY a high
wall-besides an extensive orchard and
paddock Altogether, it was quite a
gentleman's house. But rents are won
derfully low in these parts. Mr. POr-
ter was very well-to-do. His boarders
alone brought him in a respectable in
come; his chapel was well attended; and
he numbered many Of the most prosper
GUS MawwOrms OF the town among his
congregation, to one of whom--a Mrs.
HumphTies- house belonged.
By and by there were changes. One
boy left, and then another; but others
took their places. Grim-looklng persons
came to take them away; but, except in
one case, we knew nothing Of their flu
ture destiny or destination, and they
dropped out Of oun lives completely. 1t
seemed as though we were interlopers
upon the world, and ought never to have
been born.
The exceptional case / mention was
that Of a boy named Josiah Cook, whom
Mr.. Porter had transferred from his
care to that Of a printer in the town, as
an apprentice. / little thought that
Cooks transference to Bury would so
materially influence my own future life
that out of that event would spring an
Incident destined to shape its whole fu-
ture course.
There was one large room at the top
Of the house. in which we six boys slept,
two in each Of the three beds. Cook
was my bed fellow, and we were fast
friends and companions. He was bold,
Yenturesome boy, and on the last night
Of his sojourn amongst us he proposed
the daring plan Of some night paying us
a secret visit and relating all the lad
ventures" he should experience in his
new home.
II can easily climb over the garden
wall from the next field" he said; $50
look out, boys; if you hear stone
thrown up at your window, Nit win be
me-"
Six months passed away and we
heard nothing more Of Cook. He was
rapidly fading out OF our thoughts, when,
one autumnal night we heard a sharp
crack at our bedroom window. The bold
est OF our number gently lifted the sash,
and peered out. 1t was a bright moon
light night. and he saw, standing in the
gaSden beneath, the wel[known figure
Of our old companion.
The back of the house was covered
with a fine old pear tree 1t had not
been pruned for several years, aid had
thrown out its wood somewhat wildly. A
few whispered words, and Cook was
the tree with hand and foot,