Daily capital journal. (Salem, Oregon) 1903-1919, 1919-01-11
CHAPTER v.
The Great STRANGER

Some strangers came along the
road those days-hunters, peddlers
and the like-and their coming filled
me with a joy which mostly went
away with them, l regret TO say. Nono
Of these, however, appealed to my
imagination as did old Kate. But
there was one stranger greater than
she-greater indeed, than any other
WHO came into Rattler0ad. He came
rarely and would not be long detained.
How curiously we looked at him,
knowing his fame and power! This
great stranger was Money.
| shall never forget the day that
my uncle showed me a dollar bill and
little shiny, gold coin and three
pieces Of silt>r, nor can l forget how
carefully he watched them while
they lay in my hands and presently
put them back into his wallet. That
was long before the time Of which I
am writing. ] remember hearing him
say, one day Of that year, when I
asked him, to take us to the Caravan
of Wild Beasts which was coming to
the village:
I'm sorry, but it's been a hundred
Sundays since I had a dollar In my
wallet for more than ten minutes"
I have his old account book for
the years of 1887 and 1898. Here are
some of the entries:
Balanced ac' ,unts with J. Doro-
thy and gave him my note for $215
to be paid in salts January 1, 1888.
Sold ten bushels of wheat to f. Miner
at 90 cents, to be paid in goods.
"SolA two sheep to Flavius Curtis
and took his note for Sc, payable in
boots on or before March the first"
Only one entry in more than a
hundred mention money, and this was
the sum of eleven cents received in
balance from neighbor.
So it will be seen that spirit of
mutual accommodation served to
help us over the rough going. Mr..
Grimshaw, however, demanded his
pay in cash and that l find was main
~ the habit Of the money-lenders.
We were poor but our poverty was
not like that Of these days in which
| am writing. 1t was proud and
cleanly and well-fed. Our fathers
had seen heroic service in the wars
and we knew it.
| was twelve years old when l be-
gan to be the reader for our little
family. Aunt Deel had long com
planned that she couldn't keep up with
her knitting and read so much. We
had not seen Mr.. Wright for nearly
two years but he had sent us the
novels of Sir Walter Scott and l had
led them heart deep into the creed
battles of Old Mortality.
Then came the evil days of 1887,
when the story of our lives began to
quicken its pace and excite our inter
est In its coming chapters. 1t gave
us enough to think of, God knows.
Wild speculations In land and the
American paper-money system had
brought us into rough going. The
banks Of the city of New York had
suspended payment of their notes.
They could no longer meet their en-
gagements. As usual, the burden fell
heaviest on the poor. 1t was hard to
get money even for black salts.
Uncle Peabody had been silent and
depressed for a month or more He
had signed a note for Rodney Barnes,
d cousin, long before and was afraid
that he would have to pay 1t. didn't
know what a note was and I remem-
Der that one night, when lay think
ing about 1t, l decided that 1t must
be something In the nature of horse
collie. My uncle told me that note
was trouble which attacked the
brain instead Of the stomach.
One autumn day in Canton Uncle
Peabody traded three sheep end twen-
ty bushels Of wheat fer a cook stove
and brought II home In the big wagon.
Rodney Barnes came with him to help
set up the stove. He was big giant
Of man with the longest nose In the
township. I have often wondered how
apy-one would solve the problem of