s
we did, and Dr McDonald, a skillful and learned physician, came to
see father twice that week. The last time was on the day before
Christmas. When he left to go home, he requested us to let him know
father's condition the next day after noon. The next day was
Christmas. Father seemed much better all afternoon. Many friends
and neighbors came in to see him. He talked more than usual. The
day was a cold, dark, drizzly one. We had no telephones then, so on
horse back in the afternoon, through cold and sleet, I made my way to
tell the doctor how father was. The errand was not hard for me,
because I loved my father and he was better, I thought, and I wanted
to tell the doctor. As soon as I entered the doctor's office, I
said, "Father is better." The doctor asked me several questions
about him which I answered. He then turned to get some medicine and
as he turned I saw him shake his head negatively. He gave me a
little phial filled with medicine and told me to give father two or
three drops every two or three hours and added, "If your father is
better in the morning, let me know." I went home with a sadder heart
than I had when I came to the doctor's, for I do not think the doctor
thought that father was better. And so it proved for when I returned
Mother said father had seemed better all afternoon, so much so that
his friends, and even my oldest brother and sister, (who were now
married, and lived, the one three miles distant, the other one mile),
had returned home to take rest.

But now, (it was about dark when I returned) said mother, "he seems
to be much worse, you would better go for your brother and sister."
So I went at once the one mile and the three miles, and sister and
her husband, Mr. Chas. R. Reyton, went at once and not long
afterwards brother and his wife and their two little children and I
returned, and we all stood around the bed of death. Father said but
little, but finally said to all. "Come near." We did so, and he
said, "Good bye, it is but a little distance between me and my
eternal home, and I can soon step that off." He closed his eyes and
was dead.

It was almost midnight, Christmas day, 1854. He went at the early
age of 49 years, 7 months 23 days. I was a little more than sixteen
years old. My youngest brother, and the youngest child of the
family, Rufus Wiley, was a little over five years old. Youngest
sister, Charlotte Ann a little over thirteen.

Father was a quiet, p