RETURNING HOME FROM NEW YORK.—PAGE 34.
I made rather an uneventful trip homeward, beguiling the time by playing my only tune which I had learned while in New York—"The girl I left behind me." It proved to be a very appropriate piece, especially after I explained what tune it was, as there were some soldiers on board the cars who were returning home from the war. They were profuse in their compliments, and said I was a devilish good fiddler, and would probably some day make my mark at it.
I felt that I had been away from home for ages, and wondered if my folks looked natural, if they would know me at first sight, and if the town had changed much during my absence.
When I alighted from the train at Clyde, I met several acquaintances who simply said, "How are you Perry? How are the folks?"
Finally I met one man who said, "How did it happen you didn't go to New York?"
Another one said:
"When you going to start on your trip, Perry? Where'd you get your fiddle?"
I then started for the farm, and on my arrival found no change in the appearance of any of the family.
My mother said I looked like a corpse.
Mr. Keefer said he was glad to see me, but sorry about that cussed old fiddle.
CHAPTER II.
MY MOTHER WISHES ME TO LEARN A TRADE—MY BURNING DESIRE TO BE A LIVE-STOCK DEALER—EMPLOYED BY A DEAF DROVER TO DO HIS HEARING—HOW I AMUSED MYSELF AT HIS EXPENSE AND MISFORTUNE.
I then began attending school at Clyde, Ohio, boarding at home and walking the distance—three miles—during the early fall and late spring, and boarding in town at my uncle's expense during the cold weather.
At the age of sixteen I felt that my school education was sufficient to carry me through life and my thoughts were at once turned to business.
My mother frequently counseled with me and suggested the learning of a trade, or book-keeping, or that I take a position as clerk in some mercantile establishment, all of which I stubbornly rebelled against.
She then insisted that I should settle my mind on some one thing, which I was unable to do.
My greatest desire was to become a dealer in live stock, which necessitated large capital and years of practical experience for assured success.
This desire no doubt had grown upon me through having been frequently employed by an old friend of the family, Lucius Smith, who was in that business.
He was one of the most profane men in the country, as well as one of the most honorable, and so very deaf as to be obliged to have some one constantly with him to do the hearing for him.
He became so accustomed to conversing with me as to enable him to understand almost every thing I said by the motion of my lips. For these services he paid me one dollar per day and expenses. I used to amuse myself a great deal at his expense and misfortune. He owned and drove an old black mare with the "string-halt" and so high-spirited that the least urging would set her going like a whirlwind.
Whenever we came to a rough piece of road I would sit back in my seat and cluck and urge her on in an undertone, when she would lay her ears back and dash ahead at lightning speed.
