24. BELL HOP AT CHESTER HOUSE
After teaching school for a year, I was determined to give myself a better education. Often I had looked off from mountain summits and felt a yearning to visit places which were beyond our narrow valley; and now the way began to open for me. My sister Antha, whose life may have been saved by the dose of iodine given by mistake, had become housekeeper for an invalid lady in Glens Falls. She generously offered to pay the tuition for me at the Glens Falls Academy. Although no one else had ever gone from our community to a higher institution of learning, I was eager to take the bold step, and in order to earn further money took a job as bellboy at the Chester House during the summer months.
My wages at Chester House amounted to only two dollars and fifty cents a week, plus my food and such tips as I might receive. The work afforded an opportunity to meet many different types of people, but some of the tasks were most monotonous. For instance, when guests were resting in the afternoon, I was sent to a tiny room behind the kitchen where I peeled potatoes. Such employment tends of make a person more stupid than our Maker intended anyone to be, but—if we will find and use them—there are always ways to counteract the monotony of a dull job. While peeling potatoes I studied the catechism of the Presbyterian Church, and won a Bible for correctly answering all the questions at one sitting.
Another of my tasks at the Chester House was to fill bottles from barrels of whiskey stored in the basement. The process was simple. One end of a long rubber tube was inserted into the bung hole of the barrel, and I held the other end between my teeth. By sucking on the tube, the liquor soon came to my lips. Then, holding the tube with thumb and fingers, I inserted the end into one of the glass containers and let the liquor flow into the bottle. By pinching the tube and again releasing the flow into other bottles, I soon had as many quarts or pints as were ordered.
As for myself, I did not care for the taste of beer and stronger drinks, so stuck to grape juice, sometimes concocting my own highballs by mixing grape juice with ginger ale, lemon and honey. We had been taught at home not to drink intoxicating liquors, and I also remembered the words of Abraham Lincoln when a friend advised him to take whiskey to prevent seasickness on a voyage which he anticipated. “No,” said Lincoln, “I have seen too many people seasick on land from taking that remedy.”
On occasion I would accompany one of the hotel guests on a day’s fishing trip. Once a gentleman named Mueller asked the proprietor of the hotel where he could go to catch trout, and was told that if anyone could find trout that late in the season, I was the person. It was no hardship for me to be given the day off to go fishing. With a horse and buggy we drove twelve miles to the head of Brant Lake, then two miles more up the rutty, stony road toward Pharaoh Lake. Hitching the mare to a tree, we walked a half-mile through a jungle of alders to a large, deep pool where, from boyhood experience. I knew that trout lived when the book got warm and shallow in August.
It was easy to stand in one spot on the bank and catch those hungry fish, enough of them so that when we put them in a dishpan back at the hotel everyone was astonished at our catch. Ordinarily, for my duties of brushing off dust, carrying bags, and taking drinks to rooms, I would receive ten or twenty-five cents as a tip—and perhaps fifty cents when a guest checked out of his room. In appreciation of my guidance in fishing matters, however, this Mr. Mueller gave me five dollars when he left Chester House, a tidy sum for a bellhop who was saving for a higher education.
While working at this summer resort, I also had the opportunity to learn something about the teachings of Christian Science. The proprietor’s wife at Chester House was the Reader for a group of people in Chestertown, and chose me to pass the plate for the offering. Thus I heard of a new way to solve the problem of evil, which had always baffled me. In brief the theory is that God is good, and that out of His infinite wisdom and goodness He has created all things perfect, and therefore the idea of evil cannot have a place in the world. Sin, evil, and the devil are nothings but illusions, or Adam-dreams of mortal mind.
Having acquired some interest in logic, I wanted to know how these illusions and Adam-dreams had ever found a place in the perfect world. I had had some bad dreams and nightmares in my boyhood days, which had seemed very real to me and were most distressing. Why did these happen to me, if there was no evil spirit causing them? If illusions cause all the disagreeable events which we know as wars, murders and other cruelties, we have the same problem in eradicating illusions that we do in fighting these things under the same realities. No one could tell me how these illusions can exist in a creation in which the All-good the infinite and perfect mind is everything.
Although the problem of evil was not solved for me by the logic of Christian Science, I could see the great value of trying to fill our minds and hearts so full of God’s love that we can “overcome evil with good,” as St. Paul taught. And it is good to know that there are people who have achieved so much happiness and health by thinking and speaking only kind thoughts.
***
A less sublime incident occurred one day when I was sweeping the hotel veranda. Suddenly I heard excited voices, and as I paused in my sweeping I saw a crowd of children following a strange-looking man. Long, dark whiskers sloped forward from his chin, and a worn fireman’s hat was pulled low on his forehead. His coast was a potato sack, with slits for his head and arms. His trousers had been patched with so many dirty, frayed rags that they looked like a badly worn carpet. In place of shoes, the hermit had tied various colored pieces of cloth around his feet to form huge, unshapely moccasins. Over his shoulder he carried a parcel, tied to a stick. As we learned later, this was old Holden Brace, coming to the store to buy supplies.
Such an unusual sight naturally was the cause of much curiosity. A group of guests from the hotel gathered by the side of the road, and some of the more forward men engaged the strangely attired man in conversation. They asked permission to take his picture, and clicked their cameras while old Mr. Brace explained that he happened to be wearing his old clothes. One man offered him a drink from the bar, but this the hermit refused as dangerous and sinful. And at this point he proceeded to exhort us on how to live in peace and happiness. He said that the devil is constantly trying to get the best of people, and that the majority of folks become careless and let the arch enemy get them down. He asserted that if he were to put on boots, devils and witches would torment him. His main point was that if we want to keep out of Satan’s power, we must be honest—honest with God, and honest with one another.
When one of the listeners ventured to say, “You seem to know a lot about the devil, Mr. Brace. You must meet him often,” he replied, “Yes, I met the devil once when I lived on Hague Mountain. It was just at the close of the day, when I was crossing a narrow bridge, and the devil was attempting to cross from the opposite direction at the same time.”
“How did you know it was the devil?”
“Because,” answered the ragged preacher, “One of his feet was twice as big as the other, and the hissed like a cat. When I stepped to one side to let the fellow pass, he jumped on my back. I pulled him off but he sprang at me again. Then I became impatient and threw him onto the bridge so hard that he bounced right up into the air and disappeared. Yes,” he concluded, “we must get the best of the devil, or he will he the best of us.”
It may have been that Holden Brace’s appearance alone was enough to scare the devil, but in any event he had found his own way of illustrating the words of the apostle James: “Resist the devil and he will flee from you.”
25. OLD MUTTON GLUTTON
During this same summer we made the acquaintance of Mr. Mutton Glutton, a large bear who was attempting to add to this enormous weight by feasting on sheep. Father had been aware of the presence of this veteran marauder among the mountains, and had carefully set his traps, but seldom in his experience had he known of a bear who was so trap-shy. All through the spring and early summer, as long as bear pelts remained prime and shiny, strong traps had been set in vain in various locations just over the Essex County line, where a bounty was paid on every dead bear. It was Father’s practice, in order to receive the fullest remuneration for his efforts, to set his traps at a time when skins were at their best, and also in a county that paid a bounty. During the early days of July he would take up this traps and wait for the next trapping season. So generally the bears had a summer holiday.
The particular bear whom I have called Mutton Glutton was quick to make the most of his holiday. He waxed very bold, and made increasingly frequent visits to pastures near our Brant Lake farm until it became clear that, unless he was apprehended, he would completely destroy at least two flocks of sheep. At first he had been content to select tender lamb for his supper once or twice a month and then go back to his Indian turnips, ants, grubs, and wild berries, but he gradually developed a ravenous appetite for mutton. Aware that men were watching for him, he outwitted them by alternating between two pastures, and by making occasional raids on more remote flocks of sheep.
Albert Griffin and Arthur Smith were the men whose flocks suffered the greatest depletion. Their combined losses totaled eighteen sheep. Arthur carried on a good business in the summer peddling veal, lamb, and blueberries, and because of Mutton Glutton he decided to add bear meat to his list. Seeking both revenge and remuneration, he began to do some trapping on his own account. However, he was not a skillful trapper, and it was a very wise old bear he was trying to capture, so his chances were slim. When Smith inspected his trap, he would find it sprung and thrown into a brush pile; and when, with rifle in hand, he waited at night for the thief to show up, the darkness always prevented accurate shooting. Finally , in desperation, he came to my father and Ruel for help, and offered them permission to trap on his land.
Since it was now early August, Father felt he could not be interested in the pursuit of elusive Mr. Mutton Glutton. Not only would it be a waste of time, he thought, to try to trick the bear into a trap, but it would also spoil his chances of catching Mutton Glutton the next spring over the line in Essex County. Furthermore, Father never put out bear traps near pastures and houses where cattle, dogs, or people might be caught. In fact, it used to be said jokingly that, before catching bears, Ed Roberts drove them from Warren County over into Essex where a bounty was offered. In any case, Father refused Arthur Smith’s offer.
However, brother Ruel, who had attended many bear traps with Father and who was becoming quite a successful trapper himself, decided that he should respond to the farmer’s appeal for help. He conceived a plan by which he believed that he could outwit the wily bear. Taking the remains of the last sheep which had been killed, he fastened them among the lower limbs of a yellow birch tree, and set his trap directly beneath. Imitating Father’s methods, he had first carefully removed enough sod and earth to let the trap set level. Some wisps of swamp hay were lying on the ground and he carefully lifted one of them with a pitchfork and put it down over the trap and coiled log-chain which was fastened to the tree. It seemed to him that the odor of musty hay might prevent the bear from smelling the trap. Then, too, he hoped that the bear’s interest in the uneaten portion of the sheep would persuade him to take the last few steps on his hind legs, and so divert his keen nose from the trap. A half-grown lamb was also tied to a stake nearby, so that the bleating would throw the thief off guard. Soon after sundown, six men with loaded rifles hid in Arthur Smith’s barn and waited for the approach of their hoped-for culprit.
Mutton Glutton always seemed to plan his visits at a time of night when men could not easily see the sights on their guns, and his behavior on that night was no exception. Dusk deepened into darkness, and the watchers began to fear that there would be no entertainment for their party. Suddenly one of the men moved and pointed toward a deeper blotch of darkness which was slowly moving toward the trap. By this time the frightened lamb was pulling at its rope and bleating. The black form paused for a moment, then stood up like a man and headed for the birch tree. There was a thud as the jaws of the trap closed together, and then the night air was filled with frightful howls.
Even in the daytime, a trapper runs the risk of being mauled when he comes upon a bear that has just been caught in a trap, but it is even more dangerous to approach such an animal after dark. Realizing that the bear might make a rush at them, the men emerged cautiously from the barn. However, as they neared the birch tree, they saw no sign of the bear. The thirty-foot chain had made it possible for him to plunge into the thick foliage of the swamp. Approaching the dense bushes, some of the men began to fire their guns at random, hoping that a few of their bullets might hit their mark. In their approach, they had forgotten that the great length of the chain would give the bear enough freedom to make a long charge. Suddenly he did this very thing, causing the men to bump against each other in the darkness as they hastily retreated. One man jumped into a watering trough; and another, younger man, unnerved by the bear’s fearful snort, ran into the barn and climbed up into the haymow. Meantime, my brother turned at just the right moment, placed the muzzle of his rifle on the big dark head, and fired.
Because of all the sheep on which Mr. Mutton Glutton had feasted, he weighed nearly five hundred pounds. His pelt was shiny, but so far from prime that it sold for only five dollars. An inspection of his feet revealed the reason for his hatred of traps, for three toes were missing from a front paw. Perhaps it was the maimed paw which had led the greedy eater to turn to the farmers for revenge and an easy living. Anyway, there is much retaliation in the world, and Arthur Smith realized a considerable amount of money by selling bear meat to his customers. Most important of all, the remaining sheep could graze in safety on their mountain pastures.
26. GLENS FALL ACADEMY
In September of 1900 I tied my few belongings to my bicycle and headed for Glens Falls Academy, some twenty-seven miles away. Aware that the small amount of money that I had been able to save would not last for many weeks, I was determined to finance my education by finding odd jobs after school. For one who had never been more than twelve miles from home, the arrival at Glens Falls seemed to leave the old farm a long way behind.
Nevertheless a kind Providence was with me, and I was fortunate in still having members of my family around me. There was Antha, and presently Cordie came to join us. She had gained valuable experience as a cook in Chestertown, and now started a home bakery in Glens Falls. Then, unexpectedly, a few weeks after school had started, my other sisters and brothers moved with Mother from Chestertown to Glens Falls, and again we could make a home together.
There is not much to report about that first year at the Academy, though I must have absorbed some of the knowledge to which I was exposed. I do recall that in the study of physiology I learned that “sneezing” is the spasmodic contraction of the diaphragm caused by the irritation of the olfactory nerve. Until that time I had been able to do the trick as well as anybody,, but it was enlightening to know the why and how of it. One other fragment of information which remains with me is that the average person needs from seven to seven and one-half hours sleep at night; some require eight hours, children ought to have nine, and fools ten. So, except for rare occasions, I have aimed to limit the length of my slumber.
Education did not come easily to me. I found Latin and Algebra quite difficult, although I learned to tackle the more difficult mathematical problems by myself and eventually became a star pupil in the latter branch of learning. Greek which I studied during my second year, helped to round out a heavy schedule. When our class came to the period of Ancient History which dealt with the Hebrews, the teacher was quite amazed at my ready and accurate information. Other students who had had the advantage of Sunday School and regular church attendance did not begin to have the knowledge of the Bible that I had gained from our home reading. I certainly never made the mistake of the youth who, on returning home from church, informed his parents that the minister’s text was “Hold a grater to Solomon’s ear,” a very mutilated form of “Behold, a greater than Solomon is here,” or of the student who defined “Republican” as a “notorious sinner mentioned in the New Testament.”
My knowledge of the Bible also stood me in good stead during my sophomore year, when I participated in a school debate. The question for debate was: “Resolved, that the blessings of peace are greater than the blessings of war.” The Master of the Academy, who was debating on the affirmative side, maintained that heaven is the place of perfect peace. In rebuttal I picked up the school Bible, turned to the Book of Revelation, and read the passage: “And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, and prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world.” I made the point that according to the Bible, war was necessary to establish the heavenly peace. Later at a banquet at which I was asked to speak, the master of the school mentioned the debate and the way in which he had gone into heaven itself to fortify his arguments, and how I had followed him into the sacred stronghold and had thrown him out.
In addition to the opportunity for getting a better education at the Academy, there were other advantages which had not been available to me up among the mountains. I joined a company of boys who where taught military drills, became a member of the local Y.M.C.A., and played right guard on the school football team. As for my social life, some of the girls looked amazingly alluring, but my bashfulness kept me from mingling with them. I did get up courage to walk home with one charming blonde just once in four years.
After teaching school for a year, I was determined to give myself a better education. Often I had looked off from mountain summits and felt a yearning to visit places which were beyond our narrow valley; and now the way began to open for me. My sister Antha, whose life may have been saved by the dose of iodine given by mistake, had become housekeeper for an invalid lady in Glens Falls. She generously offered to pay the tuition for me at the Glens Falls Academy. Although no one else had ever gone from our community to a higher institution of learning, I was eager to take the bold step, and in order to earn further money took a job as bellboy at the Chester House during the summer months.
My wages at Chester House amounted to only two dollars and fifty cents a week, plus my food and such tips as I might receive. The work afforded an opportunity to meet many different types of people, but some of the tasks were most monotonous. For instance, when guests were resting in the afternoon, I was sent to a tiny room behind the kitchen where I peeled potatoes. Such employment tends of make a person more stupid than our Maker intended anyone to be, but—if we will find and use them—there are always ways to counteract the monotony of a dull job. While peeling potatoes I studied the catechism of the Presbyterian Church, and won a Bible for correctly answering all the questions at one sitting.
Another of my tasks at the Chester House was to fill bottles from barrels of whiskey stored in the basement. The process was simple. One end of a long rubber tube was inserted into the bung hole of the barrel, and I held the other end between my teeth. By sucking on the tube, the liquor soon came to my lips. Then, holding the tube with thumb and fingers, I inserted the end into one of the glass containers and let the liquor flow into the bottle. By pinching the tube and again releasing the flow into other bottles, I soon had as many quarts or pints as were ordered.
As for myself, I did not care for the taste of beer and stronger drinks, so stuck to grape juice, sometimes concocting my own highballs by mixing grape juice with ginger ale, lemon and honey. We had been taught at home not to drink intoxicating liquors, and I also remembered the words of Abraham Lincoln when a friend advised him to take whiskey to prevent seasickness on a voyage which he anticipated. “No,” said Lincoln, “I have seen too many people seasick on land from taking that remedy.”
On occasion I would accompany one of the hotel guests on a day’s fishing trip. Once a gentleman named Mueller asked the proprietor of the hotel where he could go to catch trout, and was told that if anyone could find trout that late in the season, I was the person. It was no hardship for me to be given the day off to go fishing. With a horse and buggy we drove twelve miles to the head of Brant Lake, then two miles more up the rutty, stony road toward Pharaoh Lake. Hitching the mare to a tree, we walked a half-mile through a jungle of alders to a large, deep pool where, from boyhood experience. I knew that trout lived when the book got warm and shallow in August.
It was easy to stand in one spot on the bank and catch those hungry fish, enough of them so that when we put them in a dishpan back at the hotel everyone was astonished at our catch. Ordinarily, for my duties of brushing off dust, carrying bags, and taking drinks to rooms, I would receive ten or twenty-five cents as a tip—and perhaps fifty cents when a guest checked out of his room. In appreciation of my guidance in fishing matters, however, this Mr. Mueller gave me five dollars when he left Chester House, a tidy sum for a bellhop who was saving for a higher education.
While working at this summer resort, I also had the opportunity to learn something about the teachings of Christian Science. The proprietor’s wife at Chester House was the Reader for a group of people in Chestertown, and chose me to pass the plate for the offering. Thus I heard of a new way to solve the problem of evil, which had always baffled me. In brief the theory is that God is good, and that out of His infinite wisdom and goodness He has created all things perfect, and therefore the idea of evil cannot have a place in the world. Sin, evil, and the devil are nothings but illusions, or Adam-dreams of mortal mind.
Having acquired some interest in logic, I wanted to know how these illusions and Adam-dreams had ever found a place in the perfect world. I had had some bad dreams and nightmares in my boyhood days, which had seemed very real to me and were most distressing. Why did these happen to me, if there was no evil spirit causing them? If illusions cause all the disagreeable events which we know as wars, murders and other cruelties, we have the same problem in eradicating illusions that we do in fighting these things under the same realities. No one could tell me how these illusions can exist in a creation in which the All-good the infinite and perfect mind is everything.
Although the problem of evil was not solved for me by the logic of Christian Science, I could see the great value of trying to fill our minds and hearts so full of God’s love that we can “overcome evil with good,” as St. Paul taught. And it is good to know that there are people who have achieved so much happiness and health by thinking and speaking only kind thoughts.
***
A less sublime incident occurred one day when I was sweeping the hotel veranda. Suddenly I heard excited voices, and as I paused in my sweeping I saw a crowd of children following a strange-looking man. Long, dark whiskers sloped forward from his chin, and a worn fireman’s hat was pulled low on his forehead. His coast was a potato sack, with slits for his head and arms. His trousers had been patched with so many dirty, frayed rags that they looked like a badly worn carpet. In place of shoes, the hermit had tied various colored pieces of cloth around his feet to form huge, unshapely moccasins. Over his shoulder he carried a parcel, tied to a stick. As we learned later, this was old Holden Brace, coming to the store to buy supplies.
Such an unusual sight naturally was the cause of much curiosity. A group of guests from the hotel gathered by the side of the road, and some of the more forward men engaged the strangely attired man in conversation. They asked permission to take his picture, and clicked their cameras while old Mr. Brace explained that he happened to be wearing his old clothes. One man offered him a drink from the bar, but this the hermit refused as dangerous and sinful. And at this point he proceeded to exhort us on how to live in peace and happiness. He said that the devil is constantly trying to get the best of people, and that the majority of folks become careless and let the arch enemy get them down. He asserted that if he were to put on boots, devils and witches would torment him. His main point was that if we want to keep out of Satan’s power, we must be honest—honest with God, and honest with one another.
When one of the listeners ventured to say, “You seem to know a lot about the devil, Mr. Brace. You must meet him often,” he replied, “Yes, I met the devil once when I lived on Hague Mountain. It was just at the close of the day, when I was crossing a narrow bridge, and the devil was attempting to cross from the opposite direction at the same time.”
“How did you know it was the devil?”
“Because,” answered the ragged preacher, “One of his feet was twice as big as the other, and the hissed like a cat. When I stepped to one side to let the fellow pass, he jumped on my back. I pulled him off but he sprang at me again. Then I became impatient and threw him onto the bridge so hard that he bounced right up into the air and disappeared. Yes,” he concluded, “we must get the best of the devil, or he will he the best of us.”
It may have been that Holden Brace’s appearance alone was enough to scare the devil, but in any event he had found his own way of illustrating the words of the apostle James: “Resist the devil and he will flee from you.”
25. OLD MUTTON GLUTTON
During this same summer we made the acquaintance of Mr. Mutton Glutton, a large bear who was attempting to add to this enormous weight by feasting on sheep. Father had been aware of the presence of this veteran marauder among the mountains, and had carefully set his traps, but seldom in his experience had he known of a bear who was so trap-shy. All through the spring and early summer, as long as bear pelts remained prime and shiny, strong traps had been set in vain in various locations just over the Essex County line, where a bounty was paid on every dead bear. It was Father’s practice, in order to receive the fullest remuneration for his efforts, to set his traps at a time when skins were at their best, and also in a county that paid a bounty. During the early days of July he would take up this traps and wait for the next trapping season. So generally the bears had a summer holiday.
The particular bear whom I have called Mutton Glutton was quick to make the most of his holiday. He waxed very bold, and made increasingly frequent visits to pastures near our Brant Lake farm until it became clear that, unless he was apprehended, he would completely destroy at least two flocks of sheep. At first he had been content to select tender lamb for his supper once or twice a month and then go back to his Indian turnips, ants, grubs, and wild berries, but he gradually developed a ravenous appetite for mutton. Aware that men were watching for him, he outwitted them by alternating between two pastures, and by making occasional raids on more remote flocks of sheep.
Albert Griffin and Arthur Smith were the men whose flocks suffered the greatest depletion. Their combined losses totaled eighteen sheep. Arthur carried on a good business in the summer peddling veal, lamb, and blueberries, and because of Mutton Glutton he decided to add bear meat to his list. Seeking both revenge and remuneration, he began to do some trapping on his own account. However, he was not a skillful trapper, and it was a very wise old bear he was trying to capture, so his chances were slim. When Smith inspected his trap, he would find it sprung and thrown into a brush pile; and when, with rifle in hand, he waited at night for the thief to show up, the darkness always prevented accurate shooting. Finally , in desperation, he came to my father and Ruel for help, and offered them permission to trap on his land.
Since it was now early August, Father felt he could not be interested in the pursuit of elusive Mr. Mutton Glutton. Not only would it be a waste of time, he thought, to try to trick the bear into a trap, but it would also spoil his chances of catching Mutton Glutton the next spring over the line in Essex County. Furthermore, Father never put out bear traps near pastures and houses where cattle, dogs, or people might be caught. In fact, it used to be said jokingly that, before catching bears, Ed Roberts drove them from Warren County over into Essex where a bounty was offered. In any case, Father refused Arthur Smith’s offer.
However, brother Ruel, who had attended many bear traps with Father and who was becoming quite a successful trapper himself, decided that he should respond to the farmer’s appeal for help. He conceived a plan by which he believed that he could outwit the wily bear. Taking the remains of the last sheep which had been killed, he fastened them among the lower limbs of a yellow birch tree, and set his trap directly beneath. Imitating Father’s methods, he had first carefully removed enough sod and earth to let the trap set level. Some wisps of swamp hay were lying on the ground and he carefully lifted one of them with a pitchfork and put it down over the trap and coiled log-chain which was fastened to the tree. It seemed to him that the odor of musty hay might prevent the bear from smelling the trap. Then, too, he hoped that the bear’s interest in the uneaten portion of the sheep would persuade him to take the last few steps on his hind legs, and so divert his keen nose from the trap. A half-grown lamb was also tied to a stake nearby, so that the bleating would throw the thief off guard. Soon after sundown, six men with loaded rifles hid in Arthur Smith’s barn and waited for the approach of their hoped-for culprit.
Mutton Glutton always seemed to plan his visits at a time of night when men could not easily see the sights on their guns, and his behavior on that night was no exception. Dusk deepened into darkness, and the watchers began to fear that there would be no entertainment for their party. Suddenly one of the men moved and pointed toward a deeper blotch of darkness which was slowly moving toward the trap. By this time the frightened lamb was pulling at its rope and bleating. The black form paused for a moment, then stood up like a man and headed for the birch tree. There was a thud as the jaws of the trap closed together, and then the night air was filled with frightful howls.
Even in the daytime, a trapper runs the risk of being mauled when he comes upon a bear that has just been caught in a trap, but it is even more dangerous to approach such an animal after dark. Realizing that the bear might make a rush at them, the men emerged cautiously from the barn. However, as they neared the birch tree, they saw no sign of the bear. The thirty-foot chain had made it possible for him to plunge into the thick foliage of the swamp. Approaching the dense bushes, some of the men began to fire their guns at random, hoping that a few of their bullets might hit their mark. In their approach, they had forgotten that the great length of the chain would give the bear enough freedom to make a long charge. Suddenly he did this very thing, causing the men to bump against each other in the darkness as they hastily retreated. One man jumped into a watering trough; and another, younger man, unnerved by the bear’s fearful snort, ran into the barn and climbed up into the haymow. Meantime, my brother turned at just the right moment, placed the muzzle of his rifle on the big dark head, and fired.
Because of all the sheep on which Mr. Mutton Glutton had feasted, he weighed nearly five hundred pounds. His pelt was shiny, but so far from prime that it sold for only five dollars. An inspection of his feet revealed the reason for his hatred of traps, for three toes were missing from a front paw. Perhaps it was the maimed paw which had led the greedy eater to turn to the farmers for revenge and an easy living. Anyway, there is much retaliation in the world, and Arthur Smith realized a considerable amount of money by selling bear meat to his customers. Most important of all, the remaining sheep could graze in safety on their mountain pastures.
26. GLENS FALL ACADEMY
In September of 1900 I tied my few belongings to my bicycle and headed for Glens Falls Academy, some twenty-seven miles away. Aware that the small amount of money that I had been able to save would not last for many weeks, I was determined to finance my education by finding odd jobs after school. For one who had never been more than twelve miles from home, the arrival at Glens Falls seemed to leave the old farm a long way behind.
Nevertheless a kind Providence was with me, and I was fortunate in still having members of my family around me. There was Antha, and presently Cordie came to join us. She had gained valuable experience as a cook in Chestertown, and now started a home bakery in Glens Falls. Then, unexpectedly, a few weeks after school had started, my other sisters and brothers moved with Mother from Chestertown to Glens Falls, and again we could make a home together.
There is not much to report about that first year at the Academy, though I must have absorbed some of the knowledge to which I was exposed. I do recall that in the study of physiology I learned that “sneezing” is the spasmodic contraction of the diaphragm caused by the irritation of the olfactory nerve. Until that time I had been able to do the trick as well as anybody,, but it was enlightening to know the why and how of it. One other fragment of information which remains with me is that the average person needs from seven to seven and one-half hours sleep at night; some require eight hours, children ought to have nine, and fools ten. So, except for rare occasions, I have aimed to limit the length of my slumber.
Education did not come easily to me. I found Latin and Algebra quite difficult, although I learned to tackle the more difficult mathematical problems by myself and eventually became a star pupil in the latter branch of learning. Greek which I studied during my second year, helped to round out a heavy schedule. When our class came to the period of Ancient History which dealt with the Hebrews, the teacher was quite amazed at my ready and accurate information. Other students who had had the advantage of Sunday School and regular church attendance did not begin to have the knowledge of the Bible that I had gained from our home reading. I certainly never made the mistake of the youth who, on returning home from church, informed his parents that the minister’s text was “Hold a grater to Solomon’s ear,” a very mutilated form of “Behold, a greater than Solomon is here,” or of the student who defined “Republican” as a “notorious sinner mentioned in the New Testament.”
My knowledge of the Bible also stood me in good stead during my sophomore year, when I participated in a school debate. The question for debate was: “Resolved, that the blessings of peace are greater than the blessings of war.” The Master of the Academy, who was debating on the affirmative side, maintained that heaven is the place of perfect peace. In rebuttal I picked up the school Bible, turned to the Book of Revelation, and read the passage: “And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, and prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven. And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world.” I made the point that according to the Bible, war was necessary to establish the heavenly peace. Later at a banquet at which I was asked to speak, the master of the school mentioned the debate and the way in which he had gone into heaven itself to fortify his arguments, and how I had followed him into the sacred stronghold and had thrown him out.
In addition to the opportunity for getting a better education at the Academy, there were other advantages which had not been available to me up among the mountains. I joined a company of boys who where taught military drills, became a member of the local Y.M.C.A., and played right guard on the school football team. As for my social life, some of the girls looked amazingly alluring, but my bashfulness kept me from mingling with them. I did get up courage to walk home with one charming blonde just once in four years.