I Remember, by Eli Hargrave

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From the files of June E. Tuck, who does not validate or dispute any historical facts in the article.

I Remember, By Eli Hargrave

When one ponders seriously over things of the past and tries to recall incidents that he might remember, he is often reminded of the fact that many of those things have been forgotten.

I remember the one-room log house in which most of us children were born, with a plank side room added on the south and small porch on the north. I remember the stick or dirt chimney at the west end of the log structure and remember seeing my father remodel this chimney and he made the "cats" of prairie grass and wet clay.

I remember the little front gate that stood between two large China trees inside the fence and the "wood pile" on the outside. I remember the road ran west in front of our house and on down the lane my dear old grandmother lived with a single and a widowed daughter. Just one room to this house and the cooking and warming was done on the fireplace and they all slept in the same room and often had company. And I remember they had a "trundle" bed, like I never see now, a small bed that was pushed back under the larger bed during the day, and I remember that chairs were scarce at that time and they would often pull the little bed out to sit on when they had company I remember they had a wood hauling one day and the neighbors came with their wagons and teams and saws and axes and left her a fine chance (sic) of wood for the winter. I remember she was a good soul and I think every one loved her. Her name was Sarah Pursley, but they called her Aunt Sally.

I remember this road led on across Goonan branch and by the Goonan graveyard, past which lived Mr. Karney and Mr. Goonan. I remember at our home in the west yard stood a long towering well sweep that you seldom see now, one end much heavier than the other, with a long rope tied to the towering end while at the other end of the rope was tied the old oaken bucket which hung in the well. I remember my mother would blow the old conk shell to tell them in the field it was dinner time, and often "Old Jude," the mule to the plow would stop and answer the horn. When the wind was wrong and they couldn't hear the horn, then she'd tie a white cloth to the towering end of the well sweep to tell the children and father to come to dinner.

I remember that east of the house we had a nice apple orchard, our peach, plum and cherry trees being west and southwest from the house. In that apple orchard was a path that led east to the pool and blacksmith shop where I have so often, to my regret, blown the old fashioned bellows. I remember that in the path I rode my first horse, "Old Julia," and when she turned south to go to the pool, I left off and went on east.

I remember that Pa had a tobacco patch in this orchard, and when time came to "worm" the tobacco, I don't know who dreaded it worst. But in later years he was relieved of this filthy habit and we had no more tobacco to "worm."

I remember that on this "Goonan branch" there is a sign of an old log school house where my father and he attended his one and only three month term of school. I remember Johnny (sic) Hargrave (cousin to my father) told me that he attended school at this place in 1855, with Enoch Chapman as teacher. Johnnie (sic) said he was quite small and really didn't know what it was all about, so he was taking things easy, too easy perhaps, when Mr. Chapman came around and gave him a "lickin." Johnnie said that didn't suit him, so he went home and never did go back.

I remember our first school building was a one-room log house with a big stick-and-dirt chimney at the north end and a door in the south. It stood northwest from the Nelta cemetery and near the front yard of Everett France's present home. No cemetery there then and no Nelta till about 1882. First burial in this cemetery was in 1883.

I remember Jim Taylor was my first teacher at this place and he had lots of fun among his pupils. We called them scholars then, and they seemed to enjoy him. I remember that besides our neighborhood bunch of Hudsons, Hargaves, Midgetts, Tucker, Davis, Shrode, Merchants, Chapmans, Barclays, Neeleys and many others, that Tobe and Jim Hart, Bud and "Sis" Hancock came from the Brashear Neighborhood. "Sis" was named Henrietta, but they called her Sis. I didn't know her name till I was 60 years old.

I remember Tom Patty and Dick Foster came from Mr. Colquits' and we all thought Tom a might good boy, but Dick was a terror. We little ones were afraid of him.

I remember our watering place was a big round hole by the northwest corner of the school building and often the water in it was as yellow as the clay under it, and I remember Mr. Taylor would punish his truant boys by administering to them a pill made of this clay. I remember Grude Shrode and John Pierce wee two of his doctors.

I remember that John Tucker and Dick Davis stood four feet apart with a piece of rope or stick laying on their shoulders and Mr. Taylor would run and pump it (sic.) I remember that I thought the only "fete"had been performed and we had just as well quit.

I remember Jim Hart would take a bunch of us little boys (he was grown) and go to the woods, mount a big stump and preach a sermon. He would sing songs, kneel down and pray - they didn't stand up to pray then - and conduct a real form of church service. But it was all in fun for Jim.

I remember that Mr. Taylor taught at the plank school house, built in the 1870's and stood at the southeast corner of the present cemetery lot. I remember that Joe Chapman and George Powell couldn't get along at school and one day it seemed they would pull a free-for-all fight, but the teacher succeeded in quieting the disturbance. I remember that Alf Chapman and Grude Shrode often had a tussel (sic) which ended in a hair pulling scrap. You couldn't tell who get the best of it, for neither of them would grunt or hollow "nuff," so it was often to do over the next day.

I remember the road from our house to school has always passed first in front of Mr. Cargile's house, where George Ward lives now but not the same house. I remember when I went to school that I would nearly always find one or two of the Cargile children ready to go with me but I never did find all of them ready at the same time. I remember that Mr. Cargile's barn used to stand north of his house and across the road. I remember that his cousin, Dock Cargile, once built a little store house, first in Pleasant Hill community, near the Cargile barn and about where Warrick France now raises his garden "sas." Here he had a general merchandise establishment for a while and at this store my father bought for me my first pair of brass toed boats. I remember they had a red top.

I remember that Larken Johnson lived with the Cargile family for quite a while. I remember we all thought Larken a might good boy. I remember that Uncle Joe Shrode was a wood-workman and carpenter and was the chief contractor when the plank schoolhouse was erected. I remember Capt. Ridly assisted him. I remember Mr. Shrode came to my father's shop and helped him to made a coffin - no caskets then - for some man's child that was unable to buy it. These things happened when I was a small boy.

I remember that a small dwelling once stood near the east end of the Nelta store building - no sone then. I remember Grandma Pierce and son, Sparks, once lived there. Mr. and Mrs. Talkington once lived in a little house which stood near the Wilbur Davis home. I remember Mrs. Talkington and Mrs. Cargile were twin sisters to Sparks Pearce, and they were very much alike, so much, so that they could fool people easily. Even could sometimes fool their sweethearts, so said.

I remember at school we all had Davies Arithmetic except Lewis Merchant; he studied Rays Arithmetic and I'll bet he has it yet. I remember when many of us had no book at school but the Blue Back Speller. After a while we got a little reader that had been left by our older sister. Finally we picked up a little Montieths Geography but I was grown before I studied grammar, and if you'd talk with me a while, I guess you'd think I never did study it. Yes, this is the same Lewis Merchant that you tried to out-spell at the spelling match. Now Listen, I've been with these Merchants from the jump go, and there has never been a time in my time when there wasn't from one to a half dozen good spellers in that bunch, and that is not all they good for either.

I remember the first preacher we had was Wylie Alexander Shook, father of Jno. W. Shook, and then a Mr. Cotton. They would come to our home and spend the night and I'd get to ride Mr. Shook's horse to water. I don't think Mr. Cotton had any horse. I remember they would always conduct a family prayer night and morning. I remember father and Mr. Harrison Neely were the stewards for the Methodist church and I have seen them ride horse-back over the community trying to get pay for the preacher.

I remember that Frank Pickle worked for my father and he chewed tobacco and I remember he could spit between his teeth just as straight as Lewis Jobe can shoot a rifle ball. I remember he would sit by the fire in the kitchen with us children. The cat would lie on the hearth and purr. Frank would call to the cat and when it would look up, he'd let fly the ambear (si) straight into (part of it missing) and was a pity, but it was funny to us. Of coarse Pa and Ma were in the other room.

I remember that Frank went with us once to Uncle Henry Barclay's after cattle. They were the worst to drive in the country. I remember that Frank lost his hat in the chase and never could find it.

I remember I went with my father often after stock and one time we were in Wolf Pen Creek and in the woods I got lost and finally rode up to Mr. Brashear's home. I remember I was scared, but I went on and found Pa and we went on to Mr. Isaiah Stevensons'. After Pa related the incident of my getting lost, Mr. Stevenson remarked, "Well, it's getting about time for boys his age to get lost and go to Joe Brashear's."