Farm House,
Near Painesville, Ohio,
July Fourth.
This day has been indeed the greatest holiday in the history of the United States. Such grand preparations and such lavish display have probably never been witnessed before on this continent, and although I chanced to be in a comparatively obscure corner of the Republic, I found the prevailing sentiment as deep as though I were in one of the great centres. I doubt if there was sleep for anyone during the preceding night, for the wildest excitement was manifested, and the dawn of the Centennial Fourth was presaged by the booming of cannon, the blowing of engine whistles, the ringing of bells and discharge of firearms of every conceivable calibre and description.
The townspeople were stirring at an early hour, and although I had found very little rest, I was in the saddle by nine o'clock. A thunder-shower overtook me about noon, thanks to the generous use of gunpowder, and I took shelter under a tree, from whence I was invited to dinner by Daniel Flower, a neighboring farmer. With him and his family I passed a comfortable hour, and then moved forward in the direction of Painesville.
HAYING IN NORTHERN OHIO.
Toward evening I reined up in front of an inviting-looking house—a feature which the traveller soon learns to observe—and asked one of the farm hands if Mr. Lee was at home. Before the man had time to answer, a young girl came running down the path toward the gate, saying, "Are you Captain Glazier?" I acknowledged that I was that humble person, whereupon Miss Lee asked me to dismount and "come right in," while Jack would take care of the horse. Her father and mother had gone to Cleveland in the morning, to celebrate the Fourth, and were expected back the same night. The little lady insisted upon my stopping overnight, and bustled about with all the importance of a housewife in preparing supper. I naturally felt some hesitation in accepting her invitation to remain all night, but she insisted that I be her guest, and made every effort to amuse me. After tea, I was ushered into the parlor, where my hostess soon joined me, saying that I was her "very first caller" and that she was going to entertain me "the best she knew how." Suiting the action to the word, she took her place at the piano, and began to play some national airs suitable to the occasion; but as the evening slipped away I began to feel the effects of the day's ride, and begged to be allowed to retire. This, however, the young lady seemed at first disinclined to do, asking me to wait for her father and mother, but finally I insisted as gently as possible; so she showed me to my room herself, wishing me a hearty good-night. Dawn was ushered in by the rattling of milk pans and the creaking of a pump under my window, so, knowing that further rest was out of the question, I dressed and went downstairs, where I met Mr. and Mrs. Lee. I found them very kindly people, and knew that their daughter had inherited from them her share of good nature. That odd little miss was up at the first cock-crow, and was waiting to bid me good-morning. As I was about to mount Paul after breakfast, she asked the privilege of a ride on him, and, bounding into the saddle, galloped down the road with the grace of an Indian. When she bade me good-bye at the gate, where her father and mother were standing to see me off, she asked me in her unsophisticated way to remember her as my "Centennial girl," which I solemnly promised to do, and as I looked back from the road I could see her waving her handkerchief as a parting salute.
Fifty-sixth Day.
Farm House,