“An elder brother of Hannah Cummings was Dr. Asa Cummings, D.D., of Portland, Maine, eminent for classical learning and piety, and editor of the ‘Christian Mirror’ for many years.”
CHAPTER II
BIRTH.—BOYHOOD
Isaac Ingalls Stevens first saw the light at the old Marble Ridge farmhouse, on the 25th of March, 1818. He was a delicate infant, and it was impossible for his mother, with her other little ones and the engrossing labors of the farmhouse, to bestow upon him the care his condition required. His grandmother, one day visiting the farm, was shocked to see him still in his cradle, though three years old, and, remarking that unless he was taught soon he never would walk, insisted upon taking him home with her, where, under her gentle and experienced hands, he quickly learned to run about. After returning home his father used to plunge him, fresh from bed, into a hogshead of cold water every morning.
Such heroic treatment would be sure to kill or cure, and perhaps no better proof could be given of the native vigor of his constitution than the fact that he lived, and became strong, active, and hardy.
Even as a child he was active, daring, and adventurous. He used to climb the lofty elms in front of his grandfather’s house, and cling like a squirrel to the topmost branches, laughing and chattering defiance to his grandmother’s commands and entreaties to come down.
One afternoon Abiel Holt, the hired man on the farm, went a-fishing for pickerel, and took Isaac, who was then a very little urchin just able to run about cleverly. After catching a fine string of fish, they came to the old causeway which crossed the water where now stands the dam under the Essex Railroad, but which was then submerged several feet deep in the water for some distance.
A rude footway had been contrived here by driving down forked stakes at suitable intervals along the causeway, and placing loose poles in the crotches from stake to stake, forming one row for the feet and another a little higher for the hands.
The contrivance was rickety and unsafe to the last degree; the poles swayed and bent at every step, and it required great care and the use of both feet and hands to avoid a ducking. It was now time to drive up the cows, which were pasturing beyond the water; so Holt, bidding the child remain there, crossed over after them, taking with him the string of fish, which he hung up on one of the stakes on the farther side, for he wanted the pleasure of taking his spoils home in triumph, and feared, if he left them with Isaac, the latter would take them and run home while he was away. On returning he was struck with consternation to find no trace of either the child or the fish. He carefully scrutinized the water without result, and at length slowly returned to the farmhouse, filled with misgivings, and was not a little relieved to find both his charge and his fish safe at home. The child had worked his way across the water by the poles, although, standing on the lower row, he could hardly reach the upper one with extended arms, and had returned, holding the string of fish in his teeth, in the same way. His father ever after was particularly fond of relating this anecdote in proof of the daring and adventurous spirit so early manifested.