Old Covington, Kentucky PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS OF AN OCTOGENARIAN Mrs. Eleanor Ghilds Meehan OLD COVINGTON, KENTUCKY Mrs- Eleanor Ghilds Meehan COPYRIGHT 1922 ELEANOR CHILDS MEEHAN M 17 1922 ©CI.AH74r)l37 ^\^ I OLD COVINGTON, KENTUCKY "'Fond luciuory brings flic lic/hf Of other days around inc." N the mad and merry rush of the present age it may be that to a few remaining kindred souls these reminiscences of mine may be of interest. Sitting among some treasured rehcs of the past, memories both sad and sweet return to me. They carry me back to the time when ]:)ut a Httle child I was held in my father's arms to witness the marriage ceremony of a young lady who had made much of me, and record my first childish grief on being told that she must go away from me. A few years later that tender father's hand would lead me to where I learned to read — the old "White Mansion" in Covington where the Reverend Doctor William Orr then conducted a school. The grounds included the space between Fifth and Sixth Streets and between Russell and Alontgomeiy Streets. The latter was named for the Reverend Father Montgomery, pastor of the little Catholic Church on Fifth Street ; he also erected the White Mansion. A little west was the old Craig Street burying ground which was later removed to make room for the railroad that now spreads its tracks over the space where the "rude forefathers of the hamlet" slept. Going south on Craig Street it joined the Bank Lick Road at the Lexington Pike near which was the Drover's Inn conducted by Mr. Ashbrook. 1'he cattle pens occupied the space now used by railroad tracks and the gatekeeper's outlook. As children on our way to school we timidly gauged our time in passing- the gates to gtiard against the rush of cattle and hogs l^eing driven to slaughter. Down the old Lexington Pike farmers brought their produce to market. The hills along the pike were co\Tred with forest trees and many grajie-vine swings were enjoyed along the creek that mean- dered along the northside now occupied by truck farmers. On the south side ran Willow Run. its pretty little cascades trickling down to the valley where, beside a great flat rock under an immense sycamore tree, there dwelt alone in his little cabin one of whom w^e whispered as "the hermit." One day a htmter came up into our little settlement, startling us by the announcement that he had found the old man dead, sitting in his chair, his faithful dog beside him. Where now are the tracks of the Kentucky Cen- tral railroad were ponds where, with bent pins, switch poles and brave spirits, we fished for the elusive mudcat fish and gathered walnuts and but- ternuts from the many surroimding trees. On our route to and from school, we passed through two orchards: one, just above what was then "High" Street, now Eleventh and I'ank Lick Road, and the other where the railroad freight depot stands at Eighth and Washington Streets. On High Street, now Eleventh, were immense grounds extending from Madison to Rtissell Streets, now also, alas, invaded by railroads, where stood the Baptist Theological Seminary — later, vSaint Elizabeth Hospital — and, at the w^estern end of the grounds the house occujMed l^y the college presi- dent, 'j'his house is still standing, but much changed. In the College grounds, as they were called, Sunday School picnics were held and the Fourth of July was duly honored by assembling for patriotic addresses and the reading of the Declara- tion of Tnde])endence. Where now is Austinburgh was the residence of Mr. Austin, near the Lickinc River. To visit there, the bars were let down at Madison and Fifteenth Streets and a charming woodland road led to the Austin property. In the Austin orchard I, as a little girl of ten years, was honored by coronation as Oueen of the May. My royal speech was written by the father of Mr. John Simpson, who is still living, an honored benefactor to chari- ties, and it is still fresh in my mind. But, alas and alack! my queenly dignity suffered on returning home from the festivities bv having to discard mv pretty new slippers, which Otway Norvell, also a ten-year-old courtier, carried home in his pocket, while I w^as escorted to my palace, the ro}'al chariot being the wagon which had carried the lunch baskets. In those days a little pleasure boat made trips up the Licking river to Cole's Garden, now occupied by various industries. The old Taylor Mill road led to Taylor's Mills, through what is now Latonia. At the Latonia Springs stood an Inn which was ((uite a fashionable resort and famous for Kentuckv hospitality. Time's "effacing fingers" have swept away all those beautiful and popular places. The Inn is gone and forgotten and the grand old woods opposite, that stood around the Springs, have long been leveled. As Covington had no ])ark, the Linden Crove Cemetery was the favorite Sunday resort. Reverent and social crowds would make a weekly parade to its quiet walks. The main avenue was bordered by stately locust trees whose blossoms in Mav bur- dened the air with their sweetness and lured the droning bees. At that time a large spring was at the foot of a hill where now a lake has been formed by the filling up of Thirteenth Street, necessitating the removal of the (iroesbeck family vault to higher gToiind. This recalls the old and beautiful, but rather g-looniy, Groesbeck mansion above where now the Newport and Covington bridge crosses at the end of Fourth Street. The quiet loveliness of old Linden Grove seemed desecrated by cutting through a street in the rear and the once bare hill- sides are now densely built up. In the early days it was customary, on the burial of a member of a fraternity, such as an Odd Fellow or Free Mason, to head the funeral cortege by a brass band inlaying dirges or sacred music on the approach to the cemetery, while the members in full regalia marched in procession. On the return from the cemetery, the music would be changed to lighter sound. Sunday was a favorite day. Now all is changed, as in many other affairs, and for the better morale of the street urchins, black and white, to whom these public funerals were a diversion. Dignity and solemnity now are more becoming. I remember once driving out with my mother and her cousin. Judge Samuel Moore, to the Kenton County seat at Independence in the settlement of my Revolutionary grandfather Gowdy's estate. Although the road led through a beautiful country, it was rough and rocky and we little dreamed then of the pleasant highway that has succeeded it. As time went on our lieloved and venerated Doc- tor W'illiam Orr built the new home for a school on the Licking River banks. The grounds took in all the space between Sixth and Seventh Streets and San ford Alley and the Licking River. At Seventh and San ford stood Doyle's Soap Factory, a modest aft'air, now the site of La Salette Academy. Back of it was a very deep hollow, now filled by Greenup Street. One evening in Winter an older companion and myself concluded to emulate Bonaparte cross- ing the Alps and plunged down into the deep snow, but to ascend the other side was a difficult question and had my companion been unal)le to assist me I should not l)c here now to tell the tale. We were disappointed in our aml)ition as was our hero. Another circumstance was particularly im- pressed on my memory. Our good preceptor always endeavored to have his i)upils give their minds through the week to the construction of their essays, regularly a Friday morning occasion. It seemed that a lioat, or they called it a ship, had been built and was to be launched at the foot of the school grounds, on the Licking River, for a trip to Cali- fornia. I suddenly remembered, here was Thursday afternoon and my essay due next morning. Tn consternation I seized upon the launching for a subject and recall my rather flowery description of gales and stormy seas with poor Jack aloft, but at last sailing in triumph into the summer land where gold awaited the Argonauts. My classmates thought it wonderful, and when I rose to read expected commendation, but our wise Doctor, after a sht^rt silence, gravely looked at me over his spectacles and his sarcastic criticism touched the others as well as myself when he reminded me that the injunction to make an essay a week's careful studv had been disregarded, as the launching had occurred only the day previous. To return to the topography of the city : On one corner of Pike and Scott Streets stood the Gies- bauer Brewery. It was a common aifair for us to stop at the door on our way from school for the brewer's yeast which made such delicious bread, the flour for which was ground at the McMurtry Mills on the Lexington Pike where now is the junction with Main Street. Opposite the brewerv on Scott and Pike Streets was a large hollow, then occu]Med b}- the open vats of the Le Alaire Tannery. Now, this is all filled and built over and the corner contains an oil lillini>" station. Following- Pike Street ii]) to Madison, on the southeast corner stood the general store, a frame building with shed in front, where Uncle Billy Wasson, as many called him, held forth, conspicu- ous for his portly form and kindly ways. Here was dispensed the usual "dry goods and groceries" and the questions of the day were discussed. On the opposite corner Mr. John White had a grocery; then followed the business houses of Mr. Mackoy, James Spilman, Robert Howe, Mr. Timberlake, the "saddle and harness establishment of Mr. Perkins, and other names known to old residents. On the west side of Madison Street stood a frame building, with old-fashioned porches — the X'irginia House. At the foot of Garrard Street was a tavern conducted by the genial and rotund Berry Connollev. The city jail, a s(|uare, unassuming building, stood at the junction of two alleys between Fifth and Sixth Streets, while close by was the wagon works of Mr. John Gray, w^iose daughter Ma'ry was one of Dr. Orr's pupils. On a short street between Bank Lick Road and the Pike stood a rope-walk. On Bank Lick and Ninth Street stood a pottery and we children were often attracted by the wonderful fashioning of pottery, as it grew under the turner's and molder's handset his bench, just inside the window. Adjoin- ing this was the residence of the owner, Mr. Thomas, I think an Englishman, the famous Log house, then a comfortable and well cared for dwell- ing. This recalls that other famous building, the old Kennedy Stone House of Revolutionary days, now demolished. Opposite Covington, across the Licking River, was the Garrison, from which every night at nine o'clock the reveille music and drum could be heard to the western hills. Now. I'ort Thomas has taken awav the romance, and the glory has dej-jarted from the banks of the Licking at the Point where the Indian war whoop once resounded and the "dark and bloody ground" received its baptism. But now our Chapter, the EHzabeth Kenton, Daughters of the American Revokition, is planning a memorial to the famous pioneer, Simon Kenton, and keep in mind the wonderful sacrifices of Kenton, Boone, and other kindred heroes. Old Covington also had wonderful fireworks displays from the ])yro gardens on ^ Fount Adams, near the point. On a hillside at the west end of Covington stands yet a house once occupied l)y the great tragedian Forrest, and on the Independence Pike a former residence of the great violinist Tosso. The old river road leading to Ludlow has been deflected and its curves remodeled to accommodate a trolley line. Old Willow Run is utilized as a sewer and soon all traces of the romantic old stream will have vanished. Wallace Place brings back Colonel Wal- lace, whose home seemed a plantation and \\hose military bearing was marked as he strode into church. Aly childish interest was always attracted by the old and venerated ^Ir. John Preston as he walked into church, one hand leaning on his cane, the other seemingly helpless. I remember when the late Trimble residence w^as erected by Mr. Phillip Bush, there was at the southeastern corner of Madison and Tenth Streets a pond, on the edge of which grew a tulip ])oplar tree ; the beauty and odor of its flowers remain with me. On the op])osite corner stood the residence of Mr. Sage, later of Dr. Henderson. It is still stand- ing-. The Alexander Greer homestead, on Lexing- ton Pike, in its large grounds was handsome and stately. The Robbins mansion stood where now is the Auditorium. The Groesbeck home has already been mentioned; the LeVassor home still is in the possession of Mr. Louis LeVassor. Where now stands the Richmond home at the west end of Eleventh Street was the Fowler farm, with ram- bling house and Indian mound, surrounded by great pine and forest trees. The Watkins home on Twelfth and Madison, with corner offices, has the main 1)uilding still standing, though remodeled and occupied by the Cathedral clergy. The solid, com- fortable home of Governor Stevenson still stands. Covington was rich in legal talent. I vividly rememl)er Mr. Septimus Wall, whose wife was the lovely, dainty Mary Finnell ; and Mr. Aston Ma- deira, who left the practice of law for the pulpit, as did Mr. John Spilman. Deeply was T impressed with the solemnity of the occasion when, on taking charge of his pulj^it the usual pledges were asked of him, and his grave response, "God helping me, I will!" Judge Samuel Moore, doubly related to me 1)y blood and niarriage, was of the old regime. Tall, erect, he seemed the embodiment of the law ; Judge Pryor, grave and dignified; Judge William Arthur ; Mr. Cambron, whose granddaughter is the wife of our prominent attorney. Judge Frank Tracy. There was Major Robert Richardson, pro- found student and able lawyer, whose literary abili- ties led one to think he should not have to be con- cerned with the sordid things of life, but browse among his books. His brilliant daughter, Miss Mary Cabell Richardson, resides in Covington, her facile pen still turning out eloquent periods and poetic thoughts. There was the witty Theodore Hallam, "Mister" he would be called, to distinguish him among the many Kentucky "Colonels." His name will ever be linked with that of "Marse Henrv" Watterson ; two wonderful typical Ken- tuckians. His cultured daughter inherits his won- derful talents and literarv abilitv : her delightful "talks" on travel and other subjects are always eag'erly anticipated by cultured audiences. Among- physicians, prominent was Doctor Theo- dore Wise, whose first wife was Virginia, the daughter of Squire "Jimmy" Arnold, whose palatial residence occupied much space in the west end of the city: Doctor Richard Pretlow, whose entrance into a sick room inspired confidence and courage in the patient; Doctor Evans, the distinguished surgeon, whose death was much lamented; Doctor niackburn, whose residence on Fourth Street was that of a Southern gentleman, with servants' quar- ters in the rear. His daughter, Bettie, married the handsome young Doctor Dulaney, now among the departed. There was Doctor Major, whose pretty sister, Kate, was my childish ideal of beauty. His son Thomas was a Sunday School companion, and I used to look at his pale, spiritual face and men- tally prophesy, "Tom Major will, sometime, enter the ministry." Time went on — came w^ar between the North and South ; he espoused the Southern cause; was sick, wounded, brought to Cincinnati, where he shared the ministrations of two noble women who literally obeyed the Divine injunction to 'Visit the sick and prisoners," Mrs. Esther Cleve- land and Mrs. Peter of Cincinnati. With the zeal of converts, they interested him in spiritual afifairs. He became a Catholic and a priest, by dispensation, having been a soldier, and "Father Tom," as he was affectionately called, was the idol of his fellow Confederates. Among prominent merchants were Mr. John B. Casey, in dry goods; Mr. W. D. McKean, in foot- wear; Mr. Charles Withers, in tobacco; Mr. Robert Ball, in foundry work ; Mr. Isaac Martin, in lumber ; the Walker Brothers, in dry goods; Mr. George McDonald, in jewelry; Bodeker and Aliller, in drugs and medicines. Among- real estate people were Mr. Levi Daugh- erty; Mr. John Clayton, whose uncle, Mr. Young, was once postmaster ; Mr. Isaac Cooper, whose call- ing descended to his son and grandson. Prominent among- Covington citizens was Mr. John Goodson, Sr., whose daughter Jane married the rising young lawyer, JohnCarlisle, whose talents carried him into the office of Secretary of the United States Treasury under President Cleveland. Among mv pleasant memories is that of the pastor of our Presbyterian Church, the Reverend James P)ayless. 1 happily recall the occasions when, sometimes at the close of his sermon, he would announce, "There will be i)reaching- this afternoon at Casev's schoolhouse." This meant to us children a long ride out the Lexington Pike to the place, a long, white building near the Turkey Foot Road, still standing, luit converted into a dwelling. ^Ir. Bayless' chaiming wife had a number of us chil- dren interested in missionary work and would assemble us at her home on Saturday- afternoons to learn to sew and hear her instructions. At her request, we began for her an "allium (|uilt.'" In the center of a nine ])atch the worker would write her name in indelil;)le ink. Should that little quilt be in existence now, how I should love to see it! This little circle, as the members grew up, met with ^Irs. William Ernst at her home, connected with the Northern Bank, and w'as, I suppose, the nucleus of the present "Sarah Ernst Sewing Circle." Mr. Bayless, the pastor of our Presbyterian Church, was an earnest and practical demonstrator of the doctrines he professed. Our then small congrega- tion felt the need of better housing and the Council Chamber of the Court House w^as placed at their disposal while a more sul)stantial edifice was being erected. Surmounting this court house w^as a wooden statue of George Washington. When a better court house took the place of the old one, this statue was taken down and placed in a corner of the court yard, where it stood a long time. My SMupathies were often roused at the sight of Wash- ington's effigy so neglected. Our congregation was comprised of many of the oldest families. I recall my admiration as a child, of the melodious voice of Mr. \\ illiam Ernst leading the singing in both Sunday School and church service. His sons remain Covington citizens, in commerce, banking and the law, Mr. Richard Ernst representing Kentucky at the National Capi- tol. The Kennedy family, pioneers on both land and river, is largely represented still, and known to all. Doctor Louise Southgate, a worthy exponent of womanly ability, and her brother Bernard are nephew and niece of one of m}^ loved schoolmates, Jennie Fleming, whose sisters married Dr. South- gate and Mr. Bedinger, respectively. Jennie's (juaint drollery was the life of our chosen group in my last schooldays. There were Rose and Mollie Pace, whose mother was a Kennedy, and little Lucy Southgate, of another branch, full of quiet mischief, who would meet a well-earned reprimand by an innocent, enquiring gaze and a drawling "Sir?" To return to our church. As our congregation increased a mission liranch was sent out to the southern end of the city, at first occupying an humble little brick opposite the Mackoy residence on Ninth and Madison Streets, while a modest little building was being erected for our occupation, and standing yet, I suppose, in the rear of a more pre- tentious one erected later, which now I believe is occupied by colored j^eople, while our congregation moved to ^ladison near Eleventh Street. In the first venture the Reverend Mr. Shotwell held the pulpit for awhile. Our choir was led by Mr. James Allen, the father of the late Doctor John Allen, and here Kate Menzies, lately deceased, sat beside me and we joined our voices in the hymns from the little old "Mason's Sacred Har]^," still held by me. Mr. Charles Mooar's fine tenor aided and the little mel(^deon was our accompaniment. I can yet see the various members in our little congregation. Judge Pryor's family sat near the pulpit; his daugh- ters, then unmarried, have become the heads of interesting families here. Mr. Robert Athey, then a handsome young gentleman, was an interested attendant and later married sweet little Lizzie Wallace. Our Wednesday evening prayer meetings were well attended, and dear, saintly old Mr. Men- zies, when asked to lead in prayer, would stand with upraised eyes and folded hands, imploring Divine blessings and protection, until one fairly imagined he saw the personal Presence he invoked. I had the pleasure lately of looking at his picture at the residence of his granddaughter, Mrs. Leslie Apple- gate, and my mind was carried back many years. But War's grim visage reared its head and all our quiet, simple lives were changed. The long delaved "irrepressible conflict" predicted by Secre- tary Seward was at hand. Kentucky's attempted neutrality was overcome. Our geographical i^osition denied us the right of choice. Then, as now, our ground was the "gateway to Dixie." Kentucky's "sacred soil" was invaded, property rights trampled on, families disrupted, neighbors looked askance at each other, where perfect harmony once existed. The dauntless John Morgan and Kirby vSmith kept the Northern occupants guessing, but at the turn of the Independence Pike a camp was placed and non-combatants were obliged to work on the fortifi- cations erected near the river. One day an alarm was sounded. One of our citizens, a gentleman of heavv weight, came flying into to\\n on horseback. "To arms! To arms! the rebels are advancing!" "Every man to his post!" Early citizens will recall the portly form of ]\lr. Alexander Greer as not con- ducive to expediting- the breathless horse he was urging frantically. In all our fright we could dis- tinguish a comical side, and the cjuery arose, "Is this a Paul Revere or a John Gilpin ride?" This was but a scare : but the alarm spread. To protect Cincinnati, Governor Todd of Ohio summoned his "squirrel hunters" to the rescue. A wire came to me from a sister in Ohio: "All of you come to me! The alarm bells are ringing and all is confusion!" But I held my post. God was with us here as well as there. Our streets were filled with passing troops, although we did not suffer from actual conflict as did some other parts of the state. The slightest approach to seeming disloyalty was to risk impris- onment. Sad to say, some, "clothed with a httle brief authority," presumed and persecuted unneces- sarily. The ferry boats were closely guarded. Sol- diers stationed at the wharves inspected bundles for contraband goods and sometimes with rather em- barrassing results. Once as some ladies were stand- ing with me to \\atch the troops pass our place to entrain, there was a whispered wish that the Southern troops were as well equipped. But a few days later a message was received that John Mor- gan's men had fallen on this regiment at Cum1)er- land Gap and caj^tured wagons, men, stores, guns and much that contributed to the comfort of the hungry Southern soldiers cut ofl:' by blockades. The pretty burgh of b^)rt ]\Iitchell occupies the spot where earthw^orks were thrown up and the lovely old Kentucky hills echoed, the rattle of musketry and drum. A ])ontoon bridge across the river was a novel sight. Many of our people now living can remember these sad occurrences. Although the "conquered Banner" fell, indeed, and the glorious Stars and Stripes float again over a united people, that "Banner" is enshrined in the lavender of faith- ful hearts. The music of "Dixie" hrings out the old "rebel yell," while all unite in singing- "The Star Spangled Banner." The unstained "S\\'ord of Roliert Lee" and the name of prayerful "Stonewall" Jackson stand in the honor light with Grant and Sherman. In trav- eling over the scenes of heart-breaking memories, the sight of a monument to "Stonewall" Jackson recalled an anecdote of war time. A sudden yell from the Southern lines at a time of cessation of hostilities brought a question from a visitor. The rej^tly was, "It is either Stonewall Jackson or a rabbit," as the sight of their beloved leader always evoked cheers and the little "cotton tails" some- times captured proved a welcome change in their poor diet. Again, while traveling in Virginia soon after the erection of General Lee's e(|uestrian statue, an ex-soldier with l)ut one arm was selling- souvenirs in the shape of bits of the rope on which even women and children had helped to draw the statue to its place. My husband made comment on the poor gentleman's loss of an arm. "Yessuh, yessuh, I was hit pretty hard, luit I thank God I lived to see the 'unveiling.' " However, many of our people rememlier these Civil War experiences, and so, before T close these reminiscences, T turn back once more to the days of childhood and girlhood. The old schoolroom! The beloved teacher in his usual chair ; each face in its familiar place — all are photographed on my memory. Particularly do I note the darling girl who was so long my deskmate, Amelia Ernst, who became Mrs. Robert Semple. There \\ as dear little Laurena Greer — later Mrs. William Simrall — can- tering in to school on her ])ony, accom|)anicd by her \wt dog; i^rettv little Bina b^innell. who always Icn'cd to converse on religious matters and the eternity to which she was early called; Amelia Fahnestock, the niece of our beloved Mrs. Ellen Ernst Orr, with her gentle influence over others less regardful of dis- cipline; Susan Roberts, whose children, Mr. Harry and Mrs. Olive Percival reside in Covington. There was Miss Mary Abell, an Ohio girl, whom we re- garded with a certain awe on account of a remark- ably able essay on political subjects which Doctor Orr gave to a newsi.)aper for publication. Quite a flutter was created one day by the announcement that little Aseneth Rose had eloped with the rosy- cheeked bachelor, Mr. John Todd, w-ho became an influential and wealthy citizen. There were Addie and Julia Hamilton, whose lovely mother was a frequent visitor to the school and to whom w-e were all attracted. There was pretty Hattie Fish, with her curly hair and red cheeks, later the mother of Mr. Leonard Smith. There were Sue and Fannie Murnan, mother and aunt of the Misses Sarah and Laura Creag'- head, and aunts of our distinguished surgeon, Doctor John Alurnan; Sallie Dell Perry, later Airs. Pope Sanford and lately taken by death from the side of her beloved life companion, who, from the grand, typical Kentuckian of years ago, now lingers in patient sufl^ering for the time when he shall meet her in eternity. A number of years ago I gathered together as many of the old schoolmates as I could locate for a late reunion. T drove around the school grounds in the hope of obtaining some water from the remem- bered w^ll which we once regarded as a panacea for anv ailment, in which to toast the past, but progress had cut a street through. I had a number of photo- grai)hs struck of the school and grounds from an old catalogue and at the plate of each "girl" placed a copy, with a touch of forget-me-nots. Tears and laughter greeted the remembered scene. We toasted the absent and loved widow of Doctor Orr, then living in Denver with her daughter, Mrs. Peters. We discussed from A to Z the names in an old catal(^gue brought by Laurena Greer Simrall. We sang old songs and had long-ago music, learned from the school instructors, FVofessor Kunkel and Madame Sofge. Dell Perry Sanford found she could remember the steps of the fancy dances in which she once excelled. "Marse Plenry" Watterson uttered a truism when he said, "Once a Kentuckian, aha'ciys a Kentuckian." He related the following anecdote in illustration: "General Grant once said to me, 'You Kentuckians are a clannish set. A\ hile I was in the White Plouse, if a Kentuckian ha])pened to get in harm's way, or wanted an office, the Kentucky con- tingent began j^ouring in. In case he was a Repub- lican, the Democrats said he was a 'perfect gentle- man;' in case he was a Democrat, the Republicans said the same thing. Can it be that you are all perfect gentlemen?' \Vith unblushing candor, I told him we were ; that we fought our battles as we washed our linen — ^ at home; but when trouble came, it was Kentucky against the Universe." After several years' absence I am returning to my old Kentucky hills, and so these memories come back to me. On the sunset slope of life 1 turn in retrospect. I see my father, grand and erect, the "noblest work of God, an honest man !" Undaunted by early financial reverses when irresponsil)le banks and other schemes undermined the home supports of unsuspecting men, he turned to face the world again, possessing the indomitable spirit of his \^ir- ginian forefathers. With his own hands he helped to fashion a home for his family and with large grounds renew the life, after hours, of his early home. Straii^^ht in the eye was his glance; ])lain his speech; he would owe no man a dollar. T see my gentle mother, hajjpy among her ilow- ers, fostering the Maryland traditions of herhs and roots, besides. I have yet a faded and l)roken remnant of a fragi ant lily she placed in my hand one day on leaving for school with her usual kiss at the gate and her ])recious lienediction. P.orn in the year of Washington's death, her accomiplishments were rare for the home training in those days. I have some bits of her excpiisite brush work, the coloring bright. Her manuscript poetry is treasured 1w me as the 1)reathings of a pure and holy soul. I see the happy, carefree life of pioneer davs when children were children and not the grown-uj) wise- acres of the present. "Oh Time and Change!" I have had ex]ieriences of joy and sorro\\', as falls to every human lot, but I can turn to mv happv, innocent, fostered childhood, and to each succeed- ing memory, in gratitude for Divine aid and pro- tection and the comforting assurance that the loved ones who have preceded me into the "Silent Land" w'ill greet me when T too am called. Now^ I am returning to ni}- old Kentuck}' home, Kentucky, where "the sun shines ever brightest, life's burdens are the lightest, the blue grass is the bluest." I believe there are some among our ])eo])le who will recall the "Covington Female Seminary" as it appeared years ago before it was sold to Mr. Bruce, the brother of Mr. Henry Bruce, and among the students there, remember their old classmate, Nrij.i1': Cini.Ds. Mav 3, 1922. STEWART & KIDD PRESS CINCINNATI, 0. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 571 236 1