CHAPTER II.

I

BOYHOOD.

N this new household busy years followed for the young mother. The three brothers and two sisters that came during the next five years became Jonathan's especial care in all his early boyhood. He was always old and thoughtful for his years. His brother, Deacon Allen, writes: "He was ever our peacemaker, and the champion and protector of the little twin sisters, always called 'the babies."" As soon as they were old enough to walk, all the bright, sunny days were spent in the fields and woods around the home. The little girls placed in the center, and the twin brothers one on each side, with the older brothers each taking a hand of these, made quite a string of babies, the eldest being less than seven years old. They would walk, run, and sing, hunting baby treasures. These children of the forest knew every sunny knoll where the first buds of spring would open, and their tiny hands gathered each day their little aprons full of the lovely hepatica, the long, glossy partridge vines, with their scarlet fruit, the brown, velvety moss, and spicy wintergreen. Some of these must always be kept for mother, whose tender smile would well repay the loving little hearts. So the bare feet pressed each sod on that bright hillside, where some new flower, leaf, or bird's nest brought zest to the new day. When weary, they would choose some sunny, mossy hillock or shady nook, and lie down, a group of tired children, all falling asleep save the ever-watchful Jonathan.

Perhaps, more than he himself knew, we owe his lifelong heroic defense of woman to the tender care of these little sisters. Rich or poor, black or white, he believed with all his soul that woman, as a child of God, had a right to live her own independ

ent life, and work out her own soul's destiny. In him she always found a ready and fearless advocate. His counsel to every young woman was, "Go forward; trust in your own good sense and in God for success."

He showed very early an uncommonly sensitive nature, as his observations of all around him were keen, poetic, and lasting. Once, when a small child, he was allowed to see a little cousin buried. The horror of that baby being put into the ground never left him, and through his whole life it was a dark shadow, making him ever search eagerly for some better way. Indeed, this was the first foreshadowing of the idea which in later years developed into his earnest support of cremation.

VISITS TO GRANDPARENTS.

He was very fond of going to the homes of his grandparents. Grandma Allen and Aunt Katie would always have some choice apple or bit of sugar for their pet, and these expressions of love, so rare to him, were among his brightest memories. When staying the night, they would allow him to sit up later than his wont, in order to stand by the little work table and snuff the tallow dip. How he would watch the waning light, that his power could make shine again! They used to call him the "little candle miller." The same snuffers, iron candlestick, and threelegged table are now among the choice treasures of the Steinheim. How well he remembered the first time he was called a good boy, for to those stern characters praise was considered almost a sin, degenerating into flattery.

At Grandfather Burdick's there were two sick aunts, where his willing hands and feet always proved hasty messengers to minister to their many calls. Being at one time uncommonly patient and helpful, one of them said, "You are a good boy, Jonathan.' The sensation was so new that he almost cried for joy. At another time one of them said, "You would make a good doctor." "I am too lazy for a doctor," came the ready answer; but, thinking it over, his childish fancy built up many an air-castle of how he would ride around the country, like Doc

tor John Collins, his ideal of manhood, and make everybody well and happy. Yes, he would be a doctor, and know everything. He seems to have inherited the best traits from both his ancestries, developing from his earliest years the ready wit and quick retort, followed by the joyous laugh, showing the Norman blood of the Allens, while it was accompanied by the calm, conscientious judgment of the McCumbers.

New families were yearly added from the East to the community, and all the wild land was soon in the hands of these settlers. The deer were fast disappearing from the forest and the trout from the streams as sources of supply. With only a few acres under cultivation, it can well be imagined that it would be a hard struggle for Father Allen to make a living for a family of eight. He was well educated for the times, and ambitious, teaching in district and singing schools in the winter, working the farm in the summer, and surveying for all the country round. He made the first map of the town of Alfred, which is now in Steinheim. With all this variety of work, money was so scarce that he was compelled to take for pay, produce, or whatever the

people had to spare. From one school, the only money he received was seventy-five cents, the amount of the appropriation for that district from the State funds.

WORK AT HOME.

The children were obliged to help about the work as soon as they were old enough to do anything. A child of five or six years could pull weeds, drop potatoes or corn, and do many other things, so that each member of the family was often employed from early morning till late in the evening. In the busy season they were tending the stock, chopping the wood, clearing new bits of forest, sowing, planting, hoeing, and reaping, besides doing the many other farm duties that country boys know so well. This intense toil for bread made it necessary to be astir at an early hour. Five o'clock during the short days and four o'clock during the long ones seldom found a healthy member of the family asleep. Father Allen's "Hello, boys!"

was not a very unwelcome sound during the warm season, but in winter, when in those open log houses the springing out of bed was often from under a snow bank into one, it was not a pleasant exercise.

Needed at home to help his mother, and being very diffident, Jonathan did not like school, yet he early learned to read and understand books, committing many things to memory, among which were Logan's "Lines to the Cuckoo." He often said its song and flight first gave him the idea of a world beyond the hills that surrounded his father's house. Being left-handed, and sensitive to ridicule, he did not learn to write until he was thirteen years of age. Only a few newspapers came to this section, but the circulating library in town was a never-failing source of happiness. His brother, Judge Ormanzo Allen, writes: “He never cared to read histories of war, nor the lives of warriors, but preferred books of travel, the biographies of famous men, such as Franklin, or Alfred the Great-benefactors of mankind; of these he was never tired. King Alfred's life he would read and reread, till many of its pages were memorized." Years afterward the "introduction" of this book composed his first speech, and was the first elocutionary exercise in Alfred School, the description of which will appear later as he tells it.

RICH INHERITANCE OF POVERTY.

Poverty, when accompanied by noble parentage, is often the richest inheritance of the young. Habits of industry, developed by useful work, with frugal fare, make strong, healthy bodies and clear brains. Not one of this large, struggling family but that in after years made a success in life. The little sisters became educated women and mothers, a saving influence in society wherever they went. Of the twin brothers one is a prominent lawyer, Judge Ormanzo Allen, of Austin, Minnesota, whom all delight to honor. The other, Doctor Orlenzo Allen, was a noted physician in the West. He was loved as few men are, and finally gave his life to save one of his patients. The eldest son, Deacon Loander Allen, is a noble Christian man, a trusted counselor in church and town.

SENSE OF JUSTICE TRIED.

Jonathan, though so timid, was an independent, daring thinker, and bold to speak when the right was in question. Going one winter to school to his father, his sense of justice was sorely tried by being severely punished for offenses that were simply reproved in the other children. At home one night he took the matter in hand and asked his father the reason of this injustice. His father said that he did not wish to appear partial to his own son. Although this was not fully satisfactory to the boy, it made him better understand his father's motives.

Another instance occurred about this time which illustrates his moral courage, but which shook his confidence in the judgment of others. He had thought of his Grandfather Burdick as the most perfect of men. He had also noticed that the whisky which people drank made them act foolishly, but every family in that day, whether rich or poor, must have a jug of liquor, which was thought to be as necessary for health as the daily food. Elder Eli S. Bailey, of blessed memory, deprecating its effects, not only upon church members but upon the ministers of the gospel, made a circuit of the churches on horse' back, and, with all the fervor of his soulful convictions, his logic and eloquent tongue, portrayed the danger of this practice. He held a series of meetings in the schoolhouses and churches wherever he went, pledging both old and young to total abstinence. Jonathan's whole nature was aroused by the truths set forth, and he was among the first to give his name to the pledge. On his way home he ran in, as usual, to Grandfather Burdick's, where, telling of the meeting and of his pledge, his grandfather sneeringly said, "You boys must think yourselves much wiser than your elders." This, however, did not cause him to regret his pledge, but the grandfather from that time lost much of his power over the boy.

SABBATH IN THE HOME.

The Puritan idea of the sacredness of the Sabbath prevailed in this town. In this family, early on Friday afternoon the farm