and was
very fond of giving us long sums to puzzle out. I have often, heard
him say to brother Barnes,

"'You must store your mind with useful knowledge, that when you go out
into the world you will have something to talk about as well as other
people.'

"A poor farmer in those days did not have much opportunity to acquire
accomplishments, as you may well imagine; but father possessed one
talent that, if properly directed, might have made his fortune and
ours. I have never yet heard a natural voice that excelled your
grandfather's; a high, clear, powerful tenor, with unsurpassed strength
of lungs, which, added to his handsome presence, would have made him
one of the finest singers that has yet trodden the boards. Of course
his voice was uncultivated, with the exception of the slight training
of country singing-classes, and the songs that he knew were simple
ballads; but his memory was very retentive, and his singing was in
great demand when company was present. At husking-parties and
apple-bees, when supper was over and the young people wished to dance,
if no fiddler was present, father would be petitioned to sing. I have
often known him to sing country dances for hours, and he sung so
heartily, and marked the time so well, that the young people enjoyed
the dancing as much as if the music had been furnished by the most
skilful violinist.

"I told you that father was a handsome man. He had large blue eyes,
soft, silky, brown curls clustering around a magnificent brow, a set
color in his cheeks, and a hand that the hardest field labor could not
deprive of its beauty--long, tapering fingers, and pointed nails, such
as novelists love to describe, but in real life are rarely seen outside
of the most aristocratic families. His teeth were small, white and
even, and at the time of his death, when eighty-seven years old, he had
only lost one. His figure, though less than six feet, gave the
impression of a much taller man; for he was slenderly built without
being thin, and his carriage was almost military. To this fine
presence was added an air of dignity and almost _hauteur_, that was
very unusual in a poor farmer. But father was proud to an unparalleled
degree. Indeed, it was his pride that caused him to plunge into the
wild forests of Pennsylvania. His haughty nature could not bear the
life of subordination that he led in Vermont, where he did not own an
acre of land, and was obliged to work under the orders o