e also gave largely to the
support of the gospel, as well as to benevolent institutions. One very
noticeable and oftentimes laughable peculiarity was his proneness to
charge every thing that went wrong to the state of the weather. I think
it was more from a habit of speech than from any wish to be
unreasonable. I remember one day passing a field when he was trying to
catch a horse that, to all appearance had no idea of being captured. He
tried various methods of coaxing him into the halter, and several times
nearly succeeded, but just when he thought himself sure of him, the
animal would gallop off in another direction. Out of all patience, he at
length exclaimed. "What does possess that critter to act so to-day?"
then glancing at the sky, which at the time happened to be overcast by
dull murky clouds, he said; "It must be the weather." I chanced one day
to be present when Uncle Ephraim was busily occupied in making some
arithmetical calculations regarding his farm-products. The result not
proving satisfactory he handed his slate to a friend for inspection, and
it was soon discovered that he had made a very considerable error in his
calculation. When the error was pointed out to him, he looked up with a
perplexed countenance, saying; "It is the weather: nothing else would
have caused me to make such a blunder." His son happened to marry
against his wishes, so much so, that he had the ceremony performed
without his father's knowledge, who afterwards, making a virtue of
necessity, wisely made the best of the matter. On learning that his son
was actually married without his knowledge the only remark he made was
this: "What could have induced Ben to cut up such a caper as to go and
get married without my leave; it must have been the weather, nothing
else," and as if he had settled the question to his own satisfaction he
was never heard to allude to the matter again. Years passed away, till
one day the tidings reached us that Uncle Ephraim was dangerously ill.
He grew rapidly worse, and it was soon evident that his days on earth
would soon be numbered. I have a very distinct recollection of stealing
quietly in, to look upon him as he lay on his dying bed; of the tears I
shed when I gazed upon his fearfully changed features. He was even then
past speaking or recognizing one from another; and before another sun
rose he had passed from among the living. I obtained permission to go in
once more and look upon him as he lay shrouded