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From: "Kevin Borland" <>
Subject: [OHCARROL] Carroll County in the mid 1800s: Essay by Margaret E. (Morrison) Price: Part 4
Date: Thu, 28 Oct 1999 17:46:44 -0400


The youngest son [Alexander Johnston Morrison] of the parent family is a
good Christian man. For years he has been an elder in the Presbyterian
Church, and his one aim is to serve God and advance His Kingdom. His wife
[Flora Lawthers] is dead, and he has left a fine family of four.
As said before, The Other Little Girl early learned to read. In those days
children started to school at the age of five, and before then she had read
McGuffey's First Reader, and could repeat "See the fox," "I like to see a
little dog," "Twinkle, twinkle, little star," and others of like nature.
One of the first books was "Mother Goose's Rhymes," gotten up in rebus
style; and she was early intruduced to "The New England Primer," with the
picture on the front of John Rogers being burnt at the stake, and inside,
the alphabet illustrated with pictures and rhymes conveying to youthful
minds such lessons as "In Adam's fall, we sinned all," and "Zaccheus he did
climb a tree, his Lord to see," and others between. The same book furnished
the knowledge of "Who was the first man?" "The oldest man?" "The wisest
man?" "The meekest man?" and so forth, which knowledge was never forgotten,
and proved of much profit. She was early taught "Now I lay me" and "The
Lord's Prayer" and to read the Bible and study the catechism; and before she
was nine, had conquered both "The Child's" and "The Shorter Catechisms"
which the good mother insisted on her learning. IT was done with much
opposition and sometimes with tears, but how many times since she has had
occasion to thank the dear mother, for it has proved a mine of Scriptural
inrformation, doctrine and comfort. She early read "The Pilgram's
Progress," but could not always understand John Bunyan's figures of speech.
She was enraptured with "The Scottish Chiefs," which the Scotch-Irish mother
early allowed her to read, and was on of the mnother's favorite books.; and
she could explain and make clear many things found in it. But candor
compels me to say that not all of her readings were of this strictly
orthodox kind. She never cared much for fairy tales, but did like "The
Arabian Nights," "Robinson Crusoe" and "Swiss Family Robinson," and I must
confess that some writings, known in those days as "Yellow back," she liked.
Also wildIndian tales and tales of adventur, but I am free to say that none
of those tales ever left as bad impressions as some of the so-called popular
fiction of today. The school she attended, for she grew up in the same
village where she was born, was typical of the buplic schools of the day,
undraded, and made up of children of every age and type, from the
abecedarian to the few who aspired to History and the higher branches. One
room, one school-teacher--sometimes male, sometimes female, some good, some
not so good, some liked, some disliked, very little equipment for work,
nothing done to make it attractive; yet, in defiance of all, much good was
done.
McGuffey's Spellers and Readers were used, and I want to pay a tribute to
them in passing. I have never seen better, and the lessons learned from the
Readers abide with us forever. Ray's Arithmatic, Pinneo's Grammer, and I do
not recall whose Geography, but all were expected to be able to find the
States, name and locate capitals, rivers, lakes and bays, no matter how
small nor in what division of the world; and the little girl can still
remember the thrill when Lake Tehad was correctly placed in Africa and the
desert of Gobi in Asia, and not vice versa. Every day was full. The little
ones had to be taught their letters, and when it came to spelling and
reading there were almost as many classes as pupils; and when it came to
other branches, it was not much better. There was not much time for the
higher branches, but those who wanted them made good headway in spite of
difficulties. Of course, there were the dull scholars, the "I don't care"
scholars; but, all things considered, progress was made. The old
school-house stood at the upper end of the old pastor's apple orchard, and
in the summer time it was often granted as a reward of merit to the best
scholars, one or two at a time could be given permission to withdraw from
the school-room, betake themselves unto the orchard and oh! what a pleasure
it was to climb a tree, ensconce oneself amid the leafy branches of a tree,
book in hand presumably for the purpose of studying, but at any rate--rest,
look about and hear the birds sing.
Perhaps I should say something about the early home of "The Other Little
Girl." Not quite like Rome, seated on her seven hills, yet the village was
surrounded by seven hills, all of some height, but one especially was called
"The Big Hill," and was a gathering place for the young people on summer
evenings The village was a small one. In its palmiest days it might have
boasted a population of two or three hundred. It was founded a good many
years ago by a sturdy set of Presbyterians who preserved their traditional
love for church and school, and early in its existence it had both. It was
founded long before the advent of the iron horse in its neighborhood, but
was on the highway travelled by the farmers of Pennsylvania, to a port on
the canal a few miles farther on, where their grain was shipped on the canal
and carried to its destination. Even in the little girl's time, some of
those large, old Conestoga wagons loaded with grain and drawn by from six to
eight strong, beautiful horses, decorated with gaudy harness and ringing
bells, would drive through the village to the shipping port, causing much
excitement.
There was one long street leading north and south, which was intersected by
three short ones. At the southern extremity there was an old Baptist church
building where services had been held by a resident of the village, but in
the little girl's time no service was held in it. At the other extremity
was a cooper shop. On the right and on the left a few yards away was God's
acre, where "the rude forefathers of the hamlet slept."
"Perhaps some mute, inglorious Milton there may rest,
Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood,"
"Let not Ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys and destiny obscure;
Nor grandeur hear, with a disdainful smile,
The short and simple annals of the poor."
The streets were not paved; neither were there any sidewalks--only earth
trodden smooth and solid by the tramp of feet. Perhaps there were one or
two exceptions where formerly flagstones had been laid. The houses on
either side were mostly small frame ones, with an occasional one of brick
between. Where the first street crossed the long one, on one corner stood
the brick Academy, founded in 1837. The founders built better than they
knew. It was the joy and pride of the village, and was an uplifting
blessing, giving an education to many who otherwise would not have had it.
Its Professors wree godly, Christian men, many of them ministers, and one
left there to become a missionary in what was then known as the Sandwich
Islands. Though the teaching was solid, practical and Christian, not only
was instruction given in English, but in Latin, Greek, and other languages;
and thus students were fitted to occupy positions of trust and honor.
Students came from all directions, near and far, in great numbers, and not
only was the home community benefited, but other communities as well.

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